This is the long awaited final chapter of Just Don't Think I'm not. And you know, not one time was I ever able to tied "Just Don't Think I'm Not" into this novel. Oh well. Read "Afterwords" and you may realise why it's called Just Don't Think I'm Not.
DISCLAIMER: Under 18: No (But don't worry about me. I won't tell anyone.) Over 18: Yes.
Just Don't Think I'm Not Chapter 14: And The Exciting Conclusion
Jack passed out. He hadn't had enough oxygen; his body was too taxed; he had lost too much blood; he was too injured to survive; the help didn't arrive fast enough.
"Fuck!" I screamed at Jack. "You can't fucking leave me. It was just starting to get good! Fuck . . . Jack . . ."
And I fell to my knees and cried. I cried and cried. I cried until my eyes burned and there were no more tears. The ambulance came 8 minutes later. It had taken them 23 minutes to get to where we were. I rode in the ambulance as the paramedics tried to bring Jack back. One of them asked me questions that they were supposed to ask. He had health insurance, but he wasn't over 18. His parents could be reached at this number. He was drunk. The person in the white Acura had run a red light . . .
Jack was never revived. An officer drove me home in case I tried to do anything stupid. My parents were glad to see that I was okay. My mom cried with me when I told her what had happened. My dad hugged me and told me that if I wanted a few days off school he would understand. Jack's parents took a day to acknowledge that Jack was dead; he was never coming back. Then they called me. They wanted to know what had happened. They wanted to know if I was responsible for what happened. If I had killed him, they would kill me. My mom took the message.
I locked myself in my room for two days. My parents made sure that I wasn't sitting in my tub with my wrists slit open by delivering me meals. I would never commit suicide though. Jack hated people who tried to commit suicide. He called them "weak" and we agreed that they were cowards afraid to face the world. I will never commit suicide.
When I came back out, I learned that Jack had been cremated and that there would be a service the next Saturday. I had to convince my parents to let me drive myself to school. Suicide was on everyone's mind, they just didn't want to say it.
It was a bright day. Streams of white light were reflecting off the buildings at school. It seemed to be covered by a strange haze. Yet, nothing seemed happy. It was all fake, a set. The student body watched me as I walked to my locker. As I walked past Jack's locker, I was drawn to it. It had been decorated with flowers and pictures of Jack with prayers and kind words. I felt warm as I picked a picture up.
"I miss you Jack."
It was a photo of Jack, Mel, Sean and Me. We were at some ski resort up in Tahoe. I remembered that trip well. Jack and I shared a room. There was only one bed and he was up tight about sleeping in a bed next to a guy. When he did finally get under the covers he spooned up close to me and fell asleep immediately. I couldn't sleep that night; I was concentrating on how it felt to be wrapped in another boy's arms. I remembered wanting to wake Jack up and see how it felt to kiss another boy. I had a dream about him that night too.
I belted out all that I had left. It hurt so much. There was so much pressure. It hurt in my chest, it hurt my head, it hurt my arms, it hurt my legs. It hurt on a molecular level. Mel walked up to me and wrapped her arms around me.
"I'm so sorry Zach." Mel said, "I know how much you loved him."
I hugged Mel back with everything I had. "Thank you, Mel."
"I need to get to my locker." I told her.
She let me go, "Alright . . ."
"Mel?"
"Yeah?"
"Can you help me clean out Jack's locker after school?"
She smiled, a warm, soothing smile. I could feel how much she needed me to smile back. She could feel how much I needed her to tell me it would all be okay. I had to keep my integrity though. I had to stop crying. She didn't want me to cry. I never cried. I sniffed and smile back at her. She gave me another big hug.
I was late to my class because I stopped in the bathroom to wash my face and get a drink of water. When I walked into English, everyone watched me. Did they expect me to do something? I sat down and listened to the teacher say hello to me. I returned her greeting and told her that I've had times. She went on to teach whatever the hell she was teaching in that class.
"I wanted to commend your bravery. On Monday morning, the principal told me about what had happened. About how you tried to help Jack."
I wanted to run out of the class and scream. "I am not a hero, Jack is dead! I was the one that got him drunk! I didn't try hard enough to get him into the car! It was all of my fault that he was dead!" The inside of my head was screaming at me to say something. But outside I smiled and forced my tears back . . .
Treatment for me was the same in every class. Individual condolences. Hallmark cards. Concentrated sugar blocks, glazed and flavored licorice: neatly surrounded by saran and a black bow. On each one lays a white happy face. They were cute. By lunch I had been given a number of cards and flowers. I didn't want special treatment. I just wanted everything to be the way it was. I wanted Jack to come back. I didn't want him to be ashes in some fucking vase on a mantel in Jack's parents' house. I wanted Jack back! But that wasn't going to happen. Mel wanted to carry my tray for me at lunch but I refused her offer. Everyone was watching me, whispering behind their hands, speaking in lips. They all wanted to see me snap and pull out an Uzi and level the entire room. And, I'll tell you, I was close to snapping. I was on the verge. The next person to offer me special assistance I was going to strangle.
Josh was sitting at my table.
"Do you want to sit somewhere else, Zach?" Sean asked me.
"No," I replied, "It's fine."
My anger level had just spiked.
Josh had a card for me. "Here" he said.
I read it:
Sorry your boyfriend bit the dust
He meant a lot to all of us
That's okay
He was probably a bad lay anyway
Josh whispered into my ear, "Now that the ruse is out of the way. Do you want to go into the bathroom and see what a real man is like? I know you want to."
Snap.
"Sure, let's go." I replied.
I quickly came up with a game plan before we were at the door.
"Josh," I said it low enough so that he would have to come very close to hear me.
"Yeah?"
"FUCK YOU!" I screamed at him.
I head butted Josh and threw him against the wall with all of the strength in my body. I pummeled the boy. My fists connected with his rib cage over and over again. I was going to show him what crushed ribs were. He tried to block, but I had overpowered him easily. Everything became a blur.
"You fucking cunt! You asshole!" I spat in his face.
I stopped for a few seconds to catch my breath. A security guard tried to restrain me but I kicked him off of me. Four more came with their pepper spray drawn. That's when I stopped kicking Josh. He had been rolled up in a ball since I clocked him in the chest. When the security guards took me, I made sure to plant a nice lugey on Josh's face.
I was suspended from school for the rest of the week. They let me clean out Jack's locker before I left though. Mel and Sean told me that most of the school had seen what I had done. They were all scared. There were rumors already circulating that I had told one of the security guards that I would bring a gun to school once I was off my suspension. The school told me to be at a hearing a week from Monday. Two days after Jack's funeral.
At home my parents were angry that I didn't just deal with it in a non- violent way. Only "idiots" use force, people that don't have language skills. Why the hell did you blow up? So I told my parents about what had happened between Josh and I. My dad expressed his homicidal feelings towards Josh and my mom mothered me, wondering if I was okay, if he ever hurt me. I didn't tell them that Josh had kicked me. And that he had tried to rape me in the bathroom. I never told them about that.
Jack's funeral was slow, informal. A bunch of old people standing around talking about how great he was. He was going to this college. He was going to study this. He had so much potential. . . . And then they would look at me. I was the anomaly in the group. I was the one that was with him when he died. I hugged him; I heard his dying rasp. To them, the old people and his parents, I was the angel of death. I had taken Jack's soul and sent it to where ever souls go. I was the bad guy. But where the fucks were his parents? They hadn't come to the hospital until the next day. Some parents.
I was later expelled from Pearson High School. The staff felt that I was a danger to the students and themselves. They gave me names of other high schools in St. Helena. I had to start all over again. Later that year, once I had become less suicidal and settled in to St. Helena High school. I told the school what Josh had done to me. It was too late for them to do anything, they said. I should have come to them earlier. I fought them for a week and then gave up. My dad went back to his construction work, a house in the Oakland hills. During Christmas, he came back, saying that he had found a really cool place to live and an even cooler school. It was Moraga Alternative School in Moraga. We moved to that place within three weeks. People accepted me more in this alternative environment. I still haven't accepted them though. There's I guess I'm scared that they may die on me too. But this is a happy ending to a sad story. I must admit: it didn't seem like it wouldn't be getting any better. And it certainly didn't end like I would have suspected. If anyone would have died, it probably would have been Josh. But I'm just not in control of that.
This was the last chapter. It was short wasn't it? And a weak ending too. That's the way things go though. There's a climax and then it's all over. So let me close my legs and you can head on over to my webpage to have a smoke and read more by me.
http://th380y.net