Story #6

August 11, 2014


Bastards

"It's over, we're done."

He felt like he barely knew this person sitting in his passenger seat. Things were ending so soon, there were still a lot of things he wanted to know about this girl. There was still a large cloud of mystery surrounding this person and he had hoped to explore. He had just started developing feelings and here it was being extinguished before it could flourish into anything worthwhile. To be honest Atticus had no real desire to stay with this girl for the rest of his life, but it would have been nice to at least spend more than a month together.

"Oh well, this sort of thing always happens to me" Atticus thought to himself.

What he actually managed to say was "Oh... Alright."

He gripped the steering wheel, and quickly looked straight through the windshield. He suddenly became too embarrassed to look at the small person sitting in his passenger seat who couldn't even be bother to glance at him. All he could manage at the moment was to stare at the trees that surrounded them and quickly thought that he would never know who her neighbors are. It really didn't matter that, but pointless things like this constantly pop into his mind. It was idiotic because even if things had managed to progress further he probably would have never met them anyways. He just wanted her to get out, get out of the truck and out of his life as soon as possible so he could just go and die of embarrassment. He wanted to scream, he wanted to cry and break things but instead he just sat there, not being able to look at this girl occupying his personal space and just endure the fact that his body was quickly getting hot and very uncomfortable. This severe nervousness consumed him and he was quickly losing his ability to keep this thoughts straight.

"We can still be friends, or you know we just could just sleep together every once and a while." said Trish, trying to help lessen the blow a little. She wasn't particularly fond of having to leave people she didn't have much interest in but she had no other choice. She didn't want to cheat on Atticus, but she knew she couldn't help herself. This is for the best she had convinced herself. She hadn't exactly fallen for Atticus and there was this new guy that moved into town that she couldn't help but try and get with. Even if she said she wanted to keep in contact with him, there couldn't be anything further from the truth. "Next time," she thought to herself "I won't tell someone I love them, unless I mean it. I kind of seriously fucked myself here."

"I'm not sure I could handle, something like that." Though the thought of having someone who he could use for sex was appealing, having that person being someone who had broke up with him and was now trying desperately to be friends and keep them in their life was obtuse. He was slightly blown away that someone could actually think that was okay. He couldn't even think of a way that would even work. This girl was obviously fucked in the head.

They would sit there for a little bit, he could sense that she was now looking at him as if searching for a reaction but he couldn't bring himself to turn his head. He didn't want to look at this person, he didn't want to remember the way she looked at him. He wanted to die, that very instant. He didn't want to hear the song on the radio that would serve as a constant reminder of this moment. He would have to break this CD, he would have to throw out all his CDs that he had used to drive Trish's house. He would have to delete all their pictures and erase her from his life and pretend that she didn't exist. He would have to block her from all his social media. He would live, it really wasn't that important to him when it really came down to it. She could die and it really would have no impact on the rest of his life or his happiness because she was very insignificant. Just another notch on his bedpost.

Trish wasn't sure if she was hurt or relieved by Atticus' reaction or lack thereof. She had gotten exactly what she wanted, and yet she felt vaguely unsatisfied. She really didn't want him to hate her, but she really had no interest in him romantically. They could be friends, but that seemed a little out of the question now. She sat there thinking to herself, not really able to break her gaze as she stared at Atticus' stonefaced side profile. Slowly she looked away defeated, not knowing what to do next. She reached for the door handle and let herself out of the vehicle. She couldn't read minds, but she was sure there was something going on behind the scenes. Something ugly, she quickly decided it wasn't her problem anymore and trudged through the snow towards her parent's house.

Driving back to his dorm Atticus started out crying but then quickly became furious the closer he got to this dorm. His emotions raged on from the pain of sadness to the fiery inferno of hatred he now felt for this person. How dare she just take advantage of him. There wasn't a single thing she did for him. Not one, he couldn't think of a single thing. What? She was cute? She wasn't even that attractive. He was just drawn to short girls. He began really looking into what he was doing with his life and the choices he was making and he quickly came to the conclusion that the end of this relationship was a good thing. Think of all the money he would now save. That was a positive right there. He counted a few other good things about her not being in his life and he immediately was starting to feel better even though his actions suggested otherwise. He peeled into the driveway to the apartment complexes and throttled the truck so that it was as loud as it could go before switching gears a couple times. He blew around the corner and then pulled into the parking lot of the apartments. Slowing down he pulled into a spot and then slammed the car into park and sat there holding his head in his hands. 

"Fuck!" He screamed until his face went red and the tears came coursing down his face. That's when the thought of her with someone else flashed inside his head. It was only for an instant but the impact had been felt and now he wanted to throw up. It wasn't that she was particularly good at sex or that they did it often, it was just the thought of someone else doing it instead of him was revolting. 

He hated her, he wanted to go and burn down her house and kill everyone inside, he wanted Trish and that fucking house of hers to not exist on this planet anymore, but he didn't have the energy to do anything. Just sit in his truck and think about how terrible he felt. He wiped the tears from his eyes for a second and stared at his radio for a minute. He rolled down the window with one hand and with the other ejected the CD from the player and tossed it out the window suddenly pissed off and screamed "Fuck you!" as it Frisbee-ed for a distance before hitting the ground. He wished the CD would have shattered on impact but regardless of his wishes the disc simply flopped over and that was the end of that. He thought of going over to it and stomping on it and grinding it against the pavement with his foot, but he was totally drained. He just stared at it angrily. Taking an aggravated breath, he looked up through the windshield, and saw the clear blue sky. It was as the world was mocking him. Figures on a day like this the weather would be perfect, everyone else would be having a great day doing whatever it is other people do. Go on picnics, playing assorted yard games, drinking. He suddenly hated them all and wished they would all die, just evaporate, get out of his goddamn courtyard. He knew he would have to walk past them to get to his dorm. He really didn't like the idea of that but he sure as hell wasn't going to just sit in his truck all day. He looked over at the time and decided that he had been sitting there long enough. He reached for the handle of the truck and opened the door, grabbing his phone and then slamming the door with more force than he felt was necessary but the emotions coursing through his body wouldn't allow for subtlety. He flipped his hood onto his head and started making his way to the dorm, trying to look as pissed off as possible. Maybe if he looked pissed and straight ahead no one would bother trying to get his attention. His plan was a successful in that no one really cared about some guy walking back to his dorm, but he deluded himself into everyone lived to harass him. Suddenly he hoped that there was no one home, or in the living room at least. He opened the door and didn't see anyone, he walked straight up the stairs, turned towards his room and flopped down in his bed and pulled the blanket over himself.

Good thing it was Thursday, he was definitely not going to class tomorrow. He could totally out and get completely blitzed out of his mind. As much as he would love to do that now, he couldn't, he didn't even want to get out of bed, he created this nice little ecosystem under his blankets. However this biom was experiencing global warming after the time he had spent under there. It became time to do some damage control so he slowly got out of bed and sat at his desk and woke up his laptop. First order of business, block the bitch. Instantly the content of his feed was nearly halved and as the notification that he was single was being shot out to his friends, the messages soon came shooting in. Wishing him well and attempting to be supportive. He had no energy for this right now so he closed the tab and began deleting the pictures and other useless shit she had sent him over the course of their relationship. After he was satisfied with the cleaning job he had performed on this computer, he made his way downstairs. He was greeted by his roommate sitting in one of the chairs in front of their TV playing some game.

"Dude, I'm hungry and want to eat something disgustingly horrible for me."

"Oh, yeah?" Reagan said not looking up from the TV.

"Yeah, kinda in the mood to just eat my feelings."

"Confused?"

"Well you see, me and Trish are no longer a thing." 

That got his attention "Oh shit. Dude, you okay?"

"I've been better, I just really want to get some food inside me before I pass out."

"Right on homie, I'll grab my shit and we can head out."

Atticus slumped down into Reagan's sports car and headed out to a fast food restaurant where they both collectively ordered enough food to feed four people and slowly devoured it all. Atticus felt full and slightly better with the sugar and extra empty calories swimming in his veins, but he couldn't help but feeling like throwing it all up. He was distancing himself from his problems in his mind. Fighting with severe apathy to block out anything that might cause him to feel anything. This technique had proven useful before and sure was coming in handy now. It wasn't healthy to not deal with your problems, but it wasn't healthy to dwell on horrible things either.

"Dude, I want to go and buy a bunch of useless shit now that all my money is mine now"

"Wasn't it all your money to begin with?"

"Well, when you already allocated most of it in your mind to things it needs to go to and those things are no longer important, its like you now have a bunch of free floating cash that I can now just spend on useless shit. I can totally get a new game and other crap for the apartment now, hell yeah."

Excited by their new disposable income, they then made their way to several shops to purchase an assortment of games, food stuffs and comfort items. It was a grieving paradise in their apartment living room, the lighting was low with the exception of the television. There was food everywhere, and an assortment of random crap to keep themselves occupied for the next couple of days. Transfixed by their newly acquired military FPS game, the duo played until Reagan couldn't think straight and headed upstairs to pass out. Atticus took it upon himself to get overly caffeinated and play for a few more hours. It would take a few bad rounds before Atticus was dissatisfied enough to put the game down and go search for some sweatpants. It was getting colder with the hours waning on and he really wanted a cigarette. He would come to find that the pack of smokes in his room was empty and was now determined to make the pilgrimage to the convenience store that was all the way downtown. He thought the walk might do him some good and give him the right setting to finally clear his mind. It was brisk but not so cold that his sweater wasn't enough. "Just perfect," he thought to himself "not too cold, but enough that I can see my breath, might be partly do to the humidity, but whatever". Atticus often argued with himself in his mind and did so for half his walk to the store before spacing out and just thinking of how much he really couldn't wait for that cigarette. It wasn't that he was particularly fond of them, or that he thought that it smelt good or made him look cool. It was purely for the enjoyment of the feeling it gave him. He had to go with the assumption that this was the general idea that most smokers have. It gave him a reason to go outside every once and a while and kept this thoughts at bay. They were a form of escape and the slight buzz he got from them was a bonus. He couldn't understand how people went about their day without this relief. The drawback being that his breathing capabilities dropped significantly, but he still exercised consistently. There was also the issue how the cost of them, however, he had enough cash that this wasn't a major issue. He knew he had to quit eventually, he just really didn't have any interest in that now.

Coming back into the apartment, now cold and reeking of smoke, he plopped down back into one of the chairs in front of the TV and continued this online multiplier matches. He was determined to get better at this game before the following day and he really didn't feel like going to bed any time soon.

author: clearskyy

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