Charlie

TW: brief self harm mention 

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Charlie leaned his head against the wall. 

‘I won’t do it,’ he thought. His eyes drifting back and forth between the unmarked bottle of pills he found stashed in the back of the medicine cabinet in the motel, and to his own hands. He wanted so badly to feel something other than anger, sadness, fear—even if it meant hurting himself to do so. 

‘I’m so stupid,’ he thought again. When the other two left him alone to “go get milk,” or whatever that meant, they left him feeling alone. He knew it was his own fault for not accepting the offer they’d given him. He’d been down this road time and time again, each time somehow feeling both worse and more numb than the last. The bottle was not his first outlet for these thoughts, but it sure was his most recent. His eyes glued to it as he sank to the floor, his back against the wall. His hands gripping tightly to the bottle, yet somehow letting it slip through his fingers. 

“No,” he said to nobody in particular. His own train of thoughts upset him. How did he get to this point? He wanted a lot of things from this life, most of which seemed implausible, but still that no reason to do this. He attempted to reason with himself, but a mind like his seldom listens to reason. He fussed with the bottle in his hands before opening it, looking directly at the contents which it held. The pills were white, but seemed to be colored orange through the transparent plastic of the container. He closed the bottle back and decided he would put the bottle back before he inevitably did something he would regret. He put on his jacket, and a face mask since apparently that's necessary these days. He adjusted the mask over his freckled nose, and walked out the door of the motel, first making sure he had his key in his pocket. 

“What do I do now,” he asked himself, clearly not expecting an answer. If he were back in his family home he would never have had the freedom to just leave, especially not at night. Despite his age. He grew up sheltered and it seemed his family wanted to keep him that way. He walked along the side of the road, putting the hood from the jacket over his head as the cold November air began to nip at him. He continued to walk along the side of the road until he eventually came up to the sidewalk. So many thoughts raced in his head at the moment. He had his wallet with him, so technically, he could just run away and leave everyone behind. He had enough money to pay rent for a month or two, if he found a cheap apartment that is. He had his phone with him, meaning he could just get a new sim card and nobody could track him. “Maybe some other time.” 

He wanted to live his life happily, he really did. But he felt he’d already missed out on so much growing up so shelter, and with all that was going on in the world to make him miss out on even more of his life. He was turning twenty one soon, but he had no more to show for it than a thirteen year old did. Why was he even here? He had nothing to offer the other two that couldn’t be replaced by anyone else. It was at this point he realized he’d been walking for a while without any idea of where it was that he was going. He reached a part of the city that had quite a few shops, and he had a major craving for tacos, then again when did he not. He walked even further until he came across a deli, that seemed like it would make tacos, even if it were the cheap kind. Charlie grinned, he was proud of himself, first resisting the temptation in the motel room, now getting himself something to eat. If only he was able to share that with someone who actually cared. He had half a mind to brag to the next stranger he saw, he would probably be unrecognized because of the mask after all, even if he embarrassed himself. However, he greatly overestimated his confidence and ended up chickening out at the sight of the next stranger he saw. 

Eventually reaching the deli, he pulled back his hoodie revealing his newly dyed blonde hair, this color was close enough to his original anyways. The warmth from inside the store keeping him grounded from his ever building anxiety. As if on cue, his phone began to vibrate in his pocket, as he went to fish it out. The name on screen was none other than one of the people he’d left back in the motel, he ultimately decided to ignore, whispering to himself, “me time.” He declined the call and continued to peruse the menu that hung above the cashiers station / deli counter. He didn’t find any tacos on the menus, so he settled for the next best thing, a cheeseburger, he wasn’t too fond of tomatoes so he had those removed. At least he was eating. 

He completed the transaction without any issue, except for the slight shame he felt as his sleeves raised up to give the cashier his money, revealing his scars. He has a mask on, nobody would know it was him, those are old scars, he only did it three times, he reasoned with himself. In an almost useless attempt to subdue the shame he felt. Brown lunch bag in hand, Charlie walked back out the store, heading in the direction he originally came from. He felt his phone vibrate several more times, but he dared not look at it. He already knew who it was. 

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After he found a rest stop to eat, he put the wrapper in his pocket. He was depressed and anxious, not a slob after all. 

“Now back to our regularly scheduled programming,” he joked, once again to himself. 

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