Broken Bad Boy

6

PERCIE

Fourteen months ago.

My life was doomed the moment I walked out of the house where I grew up. I just lost everyone I loved.

I lost my home, Emma, my family, friends, and even myself. I knew I was still alive because I could still

feel the excruciating pain when I thought of them.

My old life two months ago was near perfect, and everything went according to plan until that incident

had drastically changed my life.

I loathed myself. But I guessed I deserved to feel every agonizing pain I felt right now.

When I arrived at my grandparent’s house, they were already waiting for me. I could see the pain in

their eyes.

I cried until I gave up, but the pain was still there. It was even worse.

I couldn’t eat. The food was upsetting my stomach.

I couldn’t sleep. The nightmare was constantly visiting me the moment I closed my eyes.

I kept myself awake, listening to our favorite songs over and over again until my ears gave up.

I avoided them getting into me, afraid that if they got closer, I would lose them too.

I stayed in my room for two weeks. They brought food for me every meal. The first week, I almost

collapsed. I couldn’t stomach what I put into my mouth.

I was too weak to get up.

My vision blurred. My world spun.

I started shivering and sweating at the same time. At that moment, I wanted to die, but at the same

time, I had a promise to keep. That was how I realized that I still had one reason left to live—Emma

and the promise I made.

The second week, I had no news about Emma. That depressed me too much. My parents never

contacted me when I left that day. Grandpa told me that Emma wasn’t transferred to the rehab center.

She got an infection last week before her scheduled transfer. She had to take some antibiotics until

she’d be free from infection.

That news broke my heart again. I took the courage to text Chloe that she might have news about

Emma since they were close friends. Unfortunately, she didn’t tell me much other than the news that I

already knew.

The third week came, I was hopeless and miserable, and it was killing me slowly. I never showered,

never shaved, never brushed my teeth, and never changed clothes. I barely ate, just to keep myself

from staying alive. I guessed I wasn’t ready to die after all. It still scared me shitless.

Finally, I used the bathroom. I stripped my clothes off and stepped into the cold running water. I was

shivering. I wasn’t numb after all. I felt the icy water pricking my skin. My teeth started to grit. I held as

strong as I could to stop from chattering.

I reached for the razor that I placed in the soap dish with my trembling hand. I ran my thumb against

the blade to test if it was sharp enough—it stung, it hurt, it bled. My skin split open. Blood started

running through the water.

I shut my eyes closed, blocking every horrible memory I had as I placed the blade on my wrist above

my pulse. I pressed and deepened the sharp edge into my skin.

I held my breath. My heart beat faster. I could feel my pulse against the thing that could end my

miserable life while I shut the agonizing pain from my now bleeding wrist. Warm liquid continued

running through my wrist. Then I thought of Emma.

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I was in the middle of taking my last huge breath when the banging on the door brought me back to the

horrible reality. The razor dropped to the floor. The clinking sound reminded me of what I’d done. Of

what terrible decision I just chose.

After closing the water, I grabbed the towel, wrapped it tightly around my waist, and got out of the

bathroom. I checked my wrist. It was bleeding but not noticeable enough. I guessed it didn’t cut the

artery, just a thin slit across my wrist. I pulled some toilet paper and pressed it to stop the bleeding.

I walked into my room. Grandpa was already sitting in my bed.

“Thank God, Percival. You finally think of taking shower after twenty-one days. Look at yourself. You

look emaciated. Your bone is poking out from your skin. And you shower, but you didn’t shave? Put

some clothes on, and we have some places to go. I’ll be waiting in the car. So you better hurry up, son.

We don’t have all the time in the world.” He was a little bit exaggerating things. He stood up and patted

my still wet back.

“I don’t want to go out, Grandpa. I’m staying.” For the last twenty-one days, I heard my voice talking. It

sounded strange to my own ears.

“Hurry up, Percival Edmund. You can’t lock yourself up here for the rest of your life. Now wear some

clothes, or I will let you lock up in a psychiatric hospital. Your choice, son.”

I looked at him directly in his sad eyes. He didn’t look like he was joking. I still felt so weak even to

stand up long, but I managed to ask. “Where are we going, Grandpa?”

“To see Emma.”

My heart fluttered. My eyes widened. I blinked twice to make sure that I heard him right. “Come again?

What do you mean to see Emma?”

He didn’t answer me, instead, he walked to the open door and left me with an unanswered question.

He peeked his head from the half-opened door and warned me, “Five minutes Percival, or I’m going

with you.”

I froze.

He chuckled before he finally left.

“I’m gonna see Emma.” I ran back to the bathroom to shower properly—shaved, brushed my teeth, and

groomed well. I even wore something good to look better for Emma. I knew for sure she would notice

that I lost some weight.

Grandpa and Grandma were already in the car when I went down to their garage.

“Look who finally showed up?” Grandpa said.

“You look good, Percie, but not that good. Too much of that smoothie is not good for you,” Grandma

said sarcastically.

“Thank you for stating the obvious, Grandma. That helped you a lot with the grocery budget. I’m

already a burden,” I bantered, making Grandpa chuckle. He then drove down to the main road.

“Yeah, keep it like that, and I will throw you to the mental hospital,” Grandma warned me.

I swallowed the guilt of what I did before Grandpa showed up in my room. I could bleed to death right

now if he was just late for about ten seconds. I guess that was not my moment yet.

I looked out the window. I wasn’t supposed to see these magnificent views like a blur as we passed by,

yet here I was.

“I’m sorry to be your burden, Grandma.”