so uhm . yeah.
FIFTEEN;
You're trying to find a reason for the way you feel tonight.
Your mind is lined with layers of lead.
Have you heard one thing that I've said?
I ran right into the boys rest room with Crystal at my heels. I walked in to see Joe lying on the ground, shattered glass all around him. His head was bleeding profusely, and his nose and lip were bleeding also. Wes was standing above him throwing punches at him. "WES STOP IT!" I shouted, tears streaming down my face.
"Shut up, Kirsten!" He shouted. And for the first time in my life I was actually scared of him. He continued punching Joe, this time in the gut, as Joe lay helpless on the hard, cold ground.
Then Joe began to slowly pull himself up, holding on to a soap dispenser for support. Soap was coming out and forming a puddle on the ground. When Joe was up he pushed Wes into a stall, catching him off gaurd.
Wes tripped backwards, landing on the toilet. Joe had him cornered. He was standing in the doorway, closing in on Wes.
"Joe! Stop it, it's not worth it!!" I screamed helplessly.
That was when Wes jumped up and shoved Joe backwards. Joe had almost caught himself when he slipped in the puddle of foamy soap and fell backwards hitting his head once again on the sink.
This time I could tell he was down for good.
I did the first thing that came to my mind, I ran up and grabbed Wes' arm just as he was throwing another punch as Joe's face. Wes pushed me off of him and I fell against the wall.
This was all my fault. Everything was my fault.
I shouldn't have brought Wes, I shouldn't have ever been talking to Joe in the first place. I had no business coming back into Joe's life the way I did. He was perfectly fine without me. But I was selfish and had to come barging into Joe's perfectly happy life. I ruined everything. And now Joe was gunna die. Wes was gunna beat him to death. And I was just gunna stand here and watch.
My mind was going crazy. Right then I really thought Joe would die. Tears were streaming down my face, Joe was passed out on the floor, and my voice was gone from screaming at Wes to stop so much. Crystal had a comforting arm around me and was telling me it was going to be okay, but nothing could ever convince me that it was going to be okay.
The sound of sirens met my ears and I saw a glimmer of hope. That was the first time I even noticed all the other people in the bathroom yelling for Wes and Joe to stop. But none of them were brave enough to actually do anything about. So they just watched as Wes beat Joe.
Blood was dripping from Wes’ lip onto Joe’s cheek, but it blended in with all the other blood on Joe’s face.
I just gaped at the small group of people, waiting for someone to do something. Why weren’t they trying to help Joe?! But I couldn’t blame them. Wasn’t it my fault this was happening? Wasn’t it my fault that I had to invite Wes here in the first place?
By then two police officers and a life squad had entered the bathroom. The life squad went straight to attending Joe, and the police officers had Wes pushed up against a closed stall. He was in handcuffs in a matter of seconds. Five minutes later, Joe's head was wrapped and he was being rolled out of the restraunt on a stretcher. They put him in the back of an ambulance and were about to leave.
"Wait! Can't I come?" I asked.
"Are you his mother?" A nurse asked me.
"No." I admitted.
"Sister?"
"No... We aren't related, just friends." I said.
"Then you can't come. You can follow behind us in your car. We're going to St. Mary's hospital." She explained. "And do me a favor and contact this guys parents. Tell them to meet us at the hospital immediatly. We're gunna need his medical records."
I nodded at a loss for words. Then I got in the car with Crystal and she drove us to the hospital behind the ambulance. The police car drove beside us for a while, with Wes in the back in handcuffs, but we soon parted ways when they made a left to get to the police station.
"Well, at least it'll be easy to make your decision now..." Crystal said nervously, trying to make light of things.
I glared at her. I obvoiusly wasn't in the mood. "I hate myself." I told her.
"Kirsten! This isn't your fault, and it's going to be okay." She said.
I nodded, but I didn't believe it.
Someone may as well have stapled a note to my forehead saying:
Note to self: Wes is a douche.
Because hadn’t I known that all along?
(:
