Gandalf's Inhaler 15

You need to remember that the trigger is always on you, there is always someone aiming at you even without them realizing. 

That trigger is pulled and I know they haven’t missed, but I still happen to be alive even with blood seeping through my fingers, as I keep listening, sitting on the bed, the door locked as I keep both Julian and Matt outside and I wonder briefly where the fuck would Breana be and how is she even musing and living with all of this. I press my head harder against the door of the wardrobe, my fingers drumming as I keep listening, that the college should reveal everything and a few things are muttered which could be mentioned by them like my mental health, my break downs and my face drains. But it’s still not enough for them to kill me or my parents,

according to my parents I’m blind, I have faith in something superior, in some greater good, but it’s merely because I am doing what I believe is right,

I have too much food for thought, they tell me that it’s because I am here, slowly crawling back into uni, where I should be, that it’s what is letting all these left over demons take over me. I keep drumming harder, my jaw clenched as I get described as someone who will just collapse by the end of it and my mind keeps wandering far and forth.

They both say the same things and I wonder how did they even divorce when it so happens when I put them together, they seem the same, both with hatred not to be compared, because we are those who we hate

I’m just as stubborn as the wankers who told me that I’m a liar.

I’m just as stubborn as their beliefs that you should hold onto the biology teacher, his name not even worth to grace my mind, a long devil which I would fork and send to hell myself, but then even then he’d just fistfight the others. 

In the end I drop the phone, regret eating at my edges far too deep and I know that I’ve been shot but I don’t know by how many people and I keep walking out, my whole mind blank ever since I’ve sent off the complaint, a few days have passed and their reply coming back nearly as identical, now the strategy different from accusing me of lying, the blind belief in their abusive teachers and more memories spring to life, how people would exclaim about other’s sexuality, how some people should be degraded to their genitals and how it would still be discussed, how many things were thrown around the tables for the biology teacher to go red whenever I’d complain and then I would just go outside and I’d look at myself in a mirror, wondering if I am a living stereotype with my eyeliner.

I open the door.

I’m still stereotypical, we all are, we somehow fit into the labels, we will still be described as female, male (never touching anything non-binary, of course) and now we’ve thought of the new box where we fit gay men in with drag queens, which of course are all trans women, everyone is reduced just because for some reason we are not worth it. 

Julian is there with Matt and I still feel like I’m always unraveling a secret, as Julian had kept trying to follow me around, trying to apologize and saying how Matt had told him about me, how he just wants to be friends with me, how everyone is still closeted and that had caused me to stop.

He’s still an asshole. Both him and Matt. Julian smiled at me stopping, but I just resumed walking. 

My sleep schedule was getting far too messy and my days now in a haze, fear gripping at me as my father would call me far more frequently, telling me to stop because once it had tipped me over the edge, why I hadn’t attended one of the tests, because I was unconscious-

I kept going to Alex’s as he’d try to calm me down, as more memories would start fishing themselves out of me, microagressions I hadn’t noticed, the grades slowly going lower plainly because I couldn’t focus, I couldn’t understand why had my handwriting became an issue, why the teacher would avoid my gaze and would even bring up weird arguments just to say that I’m wrong during the lesson, they feel oddly fake, but they’re there, they’re there teaching more and more students, being abusive and maybe

even beating up more students, dragging them, no longer myself in the thought, I’m just another skull in the piles of death. 

“You don’t make a change. You can’t stop the mechanism.” The voice rings in my mind of my father, as I close my eyes recalling how I hadn’t held, fear taking over me, moments, it seemed after he had beaten me up. 

I had harmed myself further, words no longer being a metaphor. 

My own doubts flirting among themselves.

I try to get the ideas out of my head, the letter ringing, bringing to light the fact that I wasn’t on the prelim. I had sent evidence, not even opening the medical letters, Alex not asking anything. And the fact that it had been triggered was avoided with all the medical evidence and I was yanked out, pushed out and -

I should’ve told Al. Or maybe he had seen it.

There’s no evidence of it, no traces on my skin, because it seemed too daft and I had been too sad, just opening the entire blister and going to sleep, hoping that it would just make things better. I was just prescribed a different drug and that was it. I was pushed out and done the tests, the last tests which I had flunked officially, my mind might had been hazy, but I wrote everything, anxiety pumping me and seeing everything made me realize that it had just been him.

Their replies. 

Everything.

When my diploma comes the next day, all life is a blur as I bang on Alex’s door. I had gotten it with all the numbers telling the truth and the grade, as said, something the college doesn’t want to look at. The perfect score next to a failed grade, just because they felt like it and I was passed out on the day of the prelim.

That’s their excuse for their bigotry.

I knock harder, wondering

I keep knocking and I walk in, the diploma in my hands.

I had sent the medical notes. I look at Alex. My whole mind is a fog, I’m not even in a field anymore, I’m the dead one, I had been yanked outside from death for some obscure reason where sometimes I’m even blind to love and life. I grab his shoulder as he keeps looking at it.

“I sent the medical notes, as well.” Alex just nods, still flicking through the pages, contradiction well plastered on his confused face. 

Life slips out of your fingers.

“I was unconscious at the time of the prelim. 

I had tried to kill myself.

Because I knew I wouldn’t get anywhere, because I knew that I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if he got away.”

Fear splits me open like an autopsy knife, the blade like a doctor determining my cause of death. Love seems to soothe me, being the one which numbs me as I look at Alex, horrified, as my mouth just opens and I try to speak but instead Alex just pulls me closer, far too tight that my ribs ache as he strokes my back harshly, perhaps trying to pull me back into reality.

“You sent them off?”

“I did.” He doesn’t touch the subject as he makes tea, even if I still see that blister and how everything had faded and how I had wanted to slip into a coma and die and at those moments, there is one little string pulling your pinkie, telling you to go on and my eyelids were still pulled open for some reason to live as I observe Alex and I wonder if anyone had ever told him how attractive he was even if he was unsure of himself, always shyly buttoning his coat, looking up, maybe thinking about his height, only now I shamelessly try to believe that I pollute his entire thoughts and being as I leave him for the night after one last kiss nearly every day, longing putting my body into the shredder even before I leave. 

Alex glances at me and we both know I want a change of topic, even if my parents words still dance in my head with the fear that I will be outed to them, but then what? What would happen then if I’m outed before I’m 18? And how will I afford to pay later on, how will I manage university life with no experience behind me, barely speaking to Matt and avoiding Breana at all costs.

She had approached me, asking how was I and calling Alex Mendel because it was the only thing she could recall from Biology from the top of her head and holding that nickname dear so that no one would find out, as Julian would walk by and wave at me. 

Matt would ask me who should he take to see the Arctic Monkey if he should take Julian or Breana and that just caused me to leave to see Alex sooner that night, when you look back when you await a reply, all life seems to be tinted gray, all of it swirling and twitching with fear and I’m guessing when you’re at war the further you get, the more used to it you get but also I’m scared of the fact that by the end I’d be happy of any outcome and my father saying that I’ll get ill from all the stress, not questioning my suicide attempt, yet it’s always on their eyes, their confusion why had I been assessed to be allowed outside, that I had been released after a few tests. 

It’s weird to realize that I’ve got memories without Al, when I had been sitting waiting for a prescription, just looking down at my shoes, not chewing nails, not fiddling with anything, head leaned back and eyes closed shut to numb out the imagery of white and soft colours mixing to give a medical feel. It’s weird to know that I’ve known myself longer than I’ve known Alex and it’s not even that it frightens me, it just makes me question

if we were meant to be, why don’t we come hand in hand

so that the pills were never popped

so that Julian would never appear with Matt when I was with them

so that Breana would never suffer
so that Ezra never had a shot with Alex

so that it wasn’t a drunk kiss which had started all

so that fate would start running it’s course earlier,

so that we’d watch each other grow with no razors against skin just because we never got accepted for who we are, because that’s the fear

that we won’t be accepted, that it won’t be us with the razor against the area above the elbow, that the scissors won’t be open to be used as a blade with rage and desire to rest seems to surpass the desire to live in a place

where you shouldn’t be because some fucker says so,

because you’re the one who they never became. 

The greatest fear when you’re alone regardless alone or not, is will it be you tipping yourself over or not, because by the end of the day you’re the one who got kicked out, not Alex or Matt or Breana, but you

Because you’re the one who got the cheek slashed for everyone to see that you’re a fag.

-

It's really hard to write this unfortunately due to the situation and the fact that this keeps trailing and I guess I just got fed up and I've been throwing in more and more information regarding my situation when it come to Miles' and it's just really hard and that's why I haven't written it, because I've been waiting and etc and yeah I was a bit off milex and obsessing over Jamie Hince XD but I'm here, I even wrote some You're Not Coming Back Again :D and of course I'm always writing To Miles :D 

Well, its been rough and I think one of the hardest things is that I have this belief that I should keep going on and just like Miles of course you have people telling you to stop because it drains you and people who encourage you to go on like Alex and in general Alex's role is pretty much how Callie is to me, it's impossible to go without someone's shoulder to hold on to, to shake you out when needed and yeah. I can't say I'm as gloomy as Miles right now, as mine has been going on for months and months and I kind of did a bit of a time shift to make sure me and Miles are on the same page.

So yeah, it's hard and yeah. 

I didn't overdose on my prelim, but GI has more of a physical theme, so I went on with it, but yeah I repressed on how I couldn't get out of bed due to my depression and mental state and yeah, guess what, the college doesn't care. I don't know, it fucked up so badly and nothing is happening I just get blamed, Miles gets blamed, no one can do anything and fuck I still go on and yes, it fucking bothers me because people still see the UK as something good. It's not, forget it, forget it. 

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it and yeah, I'll keep writing it don't worry XD I'm just scared that this is going nowhere so far and it's hard when you're pretty much the only complainer, when it's just you, Miles, and no one else reported this treatment. That's the thing.

Please feel free to request and thank you for the support and a small message would be appreciated of encouragement regarding the story and the situation I guess:)

Thank you

<3

Jamie