Shit, shit, shit. - Shane was staring at his phone for a long while now.
<Farmgirl> - was written on the screen, his thumb was hanging above the “call” sign, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.
He bit his lip and fell on his back, turning the phone off and silencing it.
- Shit. I’m so pathetic I can’t even speak to her. - He chuckled.
He looked tired. Bloodshot eyes with dark circles under them, sick-pale skin, he was sweating heavily as the a/c didn’t work in his room.
Beer was calling for him from the coldness of his fridge.
He tried. He really tried.
He simply didn’t want to be a burden to anyone. He wanted to deal with his problems on his own.
- So fucking pathetic. - He signed and reached for a can.
Cold, sparkly liquid fell down his throat. He felt a bit lighter, his body instantly relaxed, thoughts didn’t feel that devastating anymore.
Not the best way to cope with depression and anxiety, but it works. For a little while.
Now, he was lying on his bed, drowning himself in beer.
“Was it so hard to ask for a little chat?” - His inner voice sounded like Marnie’s. He scrunched his nose and took another big gulp.
“She would’ve definitely answered you” - Voice was indeed annoying.
- I know. I don’t want her to worry, she is so fucking fragile, I don’t want to ruin… whatever we have between us. - He placed the bottom of the can on his forehead and sighed. - I want to try, at least.
“Huh, you never finish anything, so you will ruin it anyway” - That was a different voice. So “asamatteroffactish”, he flinched and clenched his hand into a fist. He couldn’t remember who did this voice belong to, and he actually didn’t want to remember.
Sticky feeling of nervousness started waking up again and his head suddenly felt heavy.
“You destroy everything you touch. And you deserve it. It’s your fault. You will never be a good father figure for Jas. You already disappointed Marnie and practically everyone in this town”
Shane closed his eyes, the voice was so loud in his head, his hands were shaking, he took another swing of the beer. And another, and another, finishing the can, he reached for another one.
- So fucking pathetic, - He chuckled. - being scared of talking. Good work Shane, using beer to fix yourself.
“Fix? You? Not in a million years” - He couldn’t silence it anymore. His other hand was still on the bed, he looked at it, trembling, weak, useless.
“You are so fucking useless, I will do it myself” - another voice woke up in his mind. So full of hate and disappointment.
He clenched his fist and punched himself in the face.
“W e a k” - the voice was laughing at his face.
- Shut the fuck up already! - Self loathing was overflowing now, spilling out with hot tears of anger. He bit his lip as they streamed down his face, he couldn’t hold them in anymore.
- I fucking know that. Better than anyone ever will.
He started panicking, opened another can and finished it in one go.
He cried himself to sleep.
