Another day of skipping school. I could hear my parents' anger simmering from across the house, a tension thick enough to taste. I couldn't blame them entirely; after all, I'd taken a year off just last year. But that gap wasn't laziness. It was survival, my inability to socialize, the instinct to flee whenever conflict appeared, it had built a cage around me, i feel like a coward maybe I am, but I can't help it. People scares me, their judgments, their whispers, their constant assessment of me as less than. I wish I had powers to take control of my life and bend it towards a better path.
I remembered vividly the most humiliating moments of my life: my father pounding on my door, shouting my name until my ears rang, venting his frustration at my mother, seeking advice from neighbors on how to make me comply, storming into school authorities to report my "behavioral nuances." And the judgments… they never stopped. Classmates, neighbors, strangers walking by, they all piled on, unknowing how much their attention worsened the anxiety gnawing at my chest, my father made everything worse, ironic how he did that with the best intentions.
Moving to my mother's hometown offered a temporary reprieve, but I knew the cycle would repeat itself. And now, with Thea… she'd been teasing me the entire time, pulling at my heartstrings like a cruel puppeteer. I was foolish to let myself believe she'd ever like someone like me. And now… screenshots of our conversations leaked, shame pressing down like concrete. Worse, she had a boyfriend all along. It didn't matter; I was predisposed to suffer, and suffering had become a quiet companion in my life.
I didn't want to go to school anymore, but this year I had to graduate. Pathetic! I know, but my fear of judgement parlises me at every point of life. Worst thing is, I missed her. I missed the way talking to her made me feel, the illusion that maybe I wasn't just invisible and maybe she had even the slightest bit of feeling for me. I thought she might be my first girlfriend. But no girl would ever want to be seen with a social reject, someone ridiculed by the world, a figure elevated only on a pedestal of pity. "Ohhh look at me I am such a good person for feeling sympathy for this miserable person" as they project their "superiority" indirectly, makes me feel sick.
I shook my head, trying to push the thoughts away. Wishing things gets better.
I pulled out my tissues and moisturizer, following my routine. A fleeting sense of normalcy. A sigh escaped me. It felt good, but the truth lingered: I'd never experience the real things, but I wish I could.
Then the phone rang.
"Sup, buddy," I said automatically, picking up.
"Let's go for a drive. Vanz is coming too, he's buying drinks," Joel's voice buzzed through the line.
"For real? Alright. Same spot, right?"
"Yeah."
"I'll be there in ten minutes. See you soon." I hung up, heart already thumping.
Drinking, driving, smoking, getting high, these were the only things that made my blood hum, the only things that made me feel alive. I threw on a hoodie, changed my pants, slipped into my running shoes, and styled my hair in a rush. Seven minutes later, I was at the gathering spot. They were there, waiting, grinning like we were immortal, like nothing could touch us.
We drove into our favorite stretch, a forested area, smooth asphalt threading through dense trees, almost empty at this hour. We drank, laughed, and passed the car between us, the world shrinking to the rhythm of the engine and the hum of our reckless hearts.
I'd had too much. Five cans of beer, and the dizziness hit like a wave, my vision blurring. My hands gripped the steering wheel, every nerve screaming, but the rush was intoxicating. Dopamine flooding my brain. Adrenaline dancing in my veins. Speed. Power. Escape.
Then, suddenly, headlights blazed through the darkness from a sharp turn. Blinding. My stomach lurched. Panic took over. I slammed the brake, jerking the wheel in a desperate, clumsy swerve. The rear of our car collided with another vehicle, a sickening crunch, metal folding, glass shattering. And then darkness.
I woke with a pounding headache, groaning, disoriented. What happened? Drinking and driving, like usual, but… no, this wasn't usual. Fuck. My heart thudded against my ribs.
"JOEL! VANZ! Are you guys okay? Wake up!" I shook Joel violently, fear clawing at my throat.
He stirred, swaying. "Yeah… yeah… I'm alright… feeling dizzy though. What about Vanz?"
"ohh shit, Vanz? Vanz?" I shook him gently, panic creeping. His chest rose and fell, he was still breathing. Unconscious, but alive. Phew.
We were alive.
Joel exhaled sharply, relief washing over him. "Ahhh… thank God. But… DUCCE! WTF! You crashed my brother's car! He's going to kill me, shit, shit, the car it's all fucked up !"
"i am sorry but it isn't my fault it's the other car's fault," I stammered, my own guilt twisting in my stomach. " and you know the drinks really got me messed up, the other driver… his headlight blinded me, i am really sorry but it isn't my fault trust me, it was that driver's fault"
Vanz disoriented, processing what just happened "Shit we are in a really messy situation, everything happened so fast i don't know how it happened" he looks at me then Joel with a soft expression "but listen, we were all drinking and driving we can't just blame Ducce"
Joel shook his head violently, anger flaring. "I don't care, he is making excuses! What are we going to do now? This would have never happened if I was the one driving, You've fucked us all up Ducce! And why did you drink so much if you can't handle it? Ohhh God why, Ducce why, couldn't you have slowed down in the turning point (grabs his hair in frustration, breathing heavily)
Ohhh lord save us (turns his head aggressively)
Wait… what about the people in that car?"
I swallowed hard. "Shit… I don't know man, we need to check."
And with that, the three of us stumbled toward the wreck, the forest silent except for our ragged breathing and the distant hum of the road behind us. Each step brought the reality closer, closer, until the wreck came into view, a grotesque silhouette in the dark.
My heart was pounding so hard I could feel it against my ribs. The forested silence around us seemed to press in, thick and suffocating. My stomach churned, bile rising as the reality of the crash began to sink in.
I stumbled as I walked, my legs shaking. As I looked at Joel, he was right behind, I saw his face turned pale, eyes wide with panic. The scent of burnt rubber and gasoline filling the air, mixing with something far worse.
"OH MY GOD… DUCCE, WTF DO WE DO? BOTH OF THEM… THEY'RE DEAD… HIS HEAD… HIS HEAD IS LITERALLY GONE!"