Xenophobia

Days went by. With each day that passed I felt even more trapped in my fucked up mind. The endless amount of women, alcohol and drugs I have consumed myself in have become what seemed to be my safe haven. It had become that wall that hid me from the harsh realities of life. It hid me from all the shit I found myself in. And it blocked out the sound of every cell, artery, vein and capillary in my body screaming "you're an idiot!".

The weeks had dwindled away and soon enough a month has come and gone. School reopened but I was in the same place. In some town I've discovered to be named Silver Stone. It was four miles away from the place I once called home.

Once called.

Orange Grove was no longer my home. I've resided myself in the guest bedroom of my new mate's apartment. Louis was his name. An odd boy with raggy brown hair and blue eyes. We were somewhat polar opposites but at the same timeHe was a mess.He preferred an ice cold Heineken while I was on for vodka. Cigarettes were his get away while weed was mine.

But though our preferences were different, the friendship seemed to work. We both ended up here due to shit that's happened in our lives. We were both cowards, running from reality. Though our stories have yet to be shared between one another, we still seemed to get along just fine.

A knock comes from my bedroom door. I am confined in layers and layers of comforters, too lazy and drained from the previous night to get up or to even make a sound to acknowledge whoever is at the door. An odor has somehow managed to develop within my sweet escape, though. It was a mixture of weed, alcohol and Chinese take out. An underlining of laundry detergent was there, but was heavily masked by the others.

"What?" I managed to groan out.

A creak indicates the opening of the room door. I know it is Louis himself because a new smell had drowned in with mine; sex. Soon, the sensory receptors in my back detects the harsh contact of something metal. With my heads still under the pillow, I use my left hand to grab the unknown item.
I open my eyes, wincing at the sight of the sun penetrating its way through the old curtains. It was a cell phone. An old iPhone 3GS. I look at Louis, skeptically.

"Man I'm tired of you using my phone to sext other girls," he breathed out. "So I dug up the old dinosaur."

I laugh loudly. Not embarrassed at all that Louis has read the erotic messages going back and forth among me and random females.

"I appreciate it mate."

Louis hums in response. "Yeah well. I'm heading to work now," he heads to the door, gripping the nod. "And for fucks sake it's 4pm, get the hell up and shower. You smell like my nan." My door is slammed shut and soon after, another slam is heard, indicating Louis' departure from the apartment.

Eventually, I get up. I shower, shave and clip my fingernails. Currently, I am sat on the floor in front of the television,not really watching what was on with a beer in my hand. My eyes would avert to the phone Louis had given me every now and then. It all becomes too much and I grab the device.

The shit takes years to turn on, but it does and I am immediately met with hundred of unread emails and text messages. I don't know how, but I find my thumb minutes later hovering over the call button, Khai's number already being set. My mind is set ablaze at the realization.

I hated this. I hated the pull my thoughts had over me. No matter how hard I try to fight them, these demons have always managed to resurrect from the dead, but only to pull me under with them. They had a hold on me and there was no way in hell I could run from them.

Whether or not I want to believe it, Khai's memory is what has kept me slightly sane... but even that is beginning to destroy me. I ruined us... I ruined the relationship. I wasn't good enough for her and though I know my absence must have crushed her, I'm still doing this for her sake. I'm doing this so she can find someone who she truly deserves. Someone who can be there for her at all times. A relationship without the lies, secrets and hiding.

There was this one meek voice, though. An incessant little shit that was in my head that made me believe that I could still give her that. It screamed and shouted that for some fucked up reason, Khai Jackson still and will always love me, even though I cannot provide what she truly deserves.

But the demons... they overrode that meek voice. Their grip on me was firm. They weren't going to let go.
The phone is soon pressed to my ear. My heart beating erratically as I ring her phone.

Ring...

Ring...

Ring...

Pause. There was a pause and I swear my heart was about to fall out of my ass as I await to hear the voice of the love of my life. My warmth, my happiness.

But it didn't come. It never came.

You have reached the voicemail box of...

The phone falls to the floor and I hear a crack. The similar... the all too fucking similar stinging feeling in my eyes started. The tears were brimming but my jaw was clenched with anger. I needed... I fucking need to get out.

I need a drink.

I need drugs.

I need a distraction.

Or maybe, just maybe I fucking need my Khai.

Notes