Cucumber sandwhiches

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Johnny

Depression. Why do you stay with me during the summer? How am I suppose to be down and out when everyone around me is having fun? I can't just grab a pillow and snuggle up in my bed because the sun is pitching straight through my window. Heat hot enough to make an oven feel cold. The weather doesn't match my mood. And that, for someone with depression, is close to a living nightmare. Depression is different in the summer. I can't put on a jumper to keep me warm, no. I have to put one on to hide up my cuts. And I can't stare out the window watching little droplets of rain race down the pane, wishing I was dead. I'm force to look at clear blue sky's and birds tweeting. Everything all hazy and slightly fresh at the same time. That's not how depression is suppose to be.

Summer. The time of the year when it's too hot for skinny jeans but I'm skinny and a cutter so I can't wear shorts.

"Did you get those clothes on sale?" Joseph picks the conversation back up. Swirling his little plastic spoon around the ice cream carton he held.

"Umm no, why?" I answer, unsure of what he even wanted me to say.

"Because they're already half off in my head" he smirks, chuckling at his pathetic excuse of a pick up line.

I sigh, picking the crust off of my sandwich. Not even bothering to give Joseph any more attention. Again we decided on spending the day together. As much as I like his company there's just this little dark circle inside of me and all I really want to do is crawl home and spend the day in bed. Reading those books I've started but haven't actually finished and drinking honey tea. But I can't because it's too hot.

So instead I sit in this quite lovely coffee shop Joseph has introduced me to. I'm not really a fan on caffeine but the coffee here is to die for. The only problem being I can't put it to my mouth without scorching the tip of my tongue. And with the heavy blue jumper I'm wearing more heat is definitely not needed.

I still haven't the slightest idea as to why Joseph wants to spend his summer with me. I'm sure he has far more interesting things to be doing than sat in a coffee shop trying to lure me out of my foul mood. Those chocolate eyes of his peeping up from his ice-cream every now and again. Picking up on the fact that I feel terrible for no found reason. Maybe it's because I haven't drawn a blade to my skin in the last three days. I'm starting to feel the urge again. The pricking feeling tearing apart my skin. The little seeps of blood that peer out. I'm feeling sad again.

"What's wrong, Johnny?" Joseph asks, sounding more aggravated than worried.

Looking up from my cucumber sandwich I meet those dark eyes. Drawing into me and almost pulling all the words I'm unable to say out of my mouth. His slightly black curls, dropping sloppily into his face as I watch him batt those long eyelashes slowly.

"I don't know" I manage to say. Just as those three words leave my mouth my whole body starts to sit up. My eyes pulling a thin layer of tears over than. Damn body, I'm not that sad. To want to burst into tears in the middle of a crowded coffee shop.

He sighs, dropping his head whilst shaking it. I guess it must be hard on him. Having to deal with my little mood swings. I'm sure a guy like him just hasn't got the patience to keep on wanting to make everything better.

I go back to picking at my sandwich, not that I'm even going to attempt to put it to my mouth. I fear that if I eat anything right now than I'm going to be taking a trip to the loo.

Our table vibrates. The screen of Joseph's phone lighting up for a second, a certain name popping up. Lola pierce. That little bitch. What was she doing calling him? Better still, why is Joseph's ex still calling his phone? Sure we are taking things extremely slow and our whole relationship is probably a complete waste of time but that doesn't mean he can talk to other girls behind my back.

I pick my sandwich up in union as Joseph grabs hold of his phone. Making my self look as if I'm really not that bothered. Even forcing myself to take a bite that I soon regret swallowing. He doesn't answer the call but his thumb go a rapid rate as he types out a message. Probably telling her he's busy and he'll call later. He pushes his phone into his back pocket before leaning over and taking a sip from the straw of his milkshake. Casually getting back to finishing his ice cream.

So he's not even going to bother explaining why Lola's ringing his phone. Is that not important? Do I not deserve an explanation for that? Or am I just over reacting. I mean he's aloud friends, right? Sure he's aloud friends, just not her. I know Lola enough by now to understand that's she's not to be trusted.

"Was that Lola?" I ask, trying my best to sound normal.

"Yes" he simple answers, shrugging his shoulders as he continues to eat his ice cream. Seemingly not bothered by the fact other girls are ringing his phone.

"Why didn't you answer?" I swallow, trying to keep my calm.

"Because" is all he has to say. Not even putting in the effort to look me in the face as he spoke. Stupid fuck. How dumb do he think I actually am?

Pulling around the collar of my jumper I start to sweat. Feeling all the more bothered by the heat with Joseph's childish ways. Why can't he just act like an adult for once.

"Just take it off, Johnny" he mutters, sitting up straight and looking me dead in the face.

If possible my cheeks glow a more deeper red and more little beads of sweat start to stick to my forehead. Why's he talking to me like this? I'm sure he's aware of the fact that I can't just take my jumper off. For a start I don't have a t-shirt on underneath and then there's the cuts. I thought he'd understand that.

"I can't do that" I fire back, gritting my teeth to stop myself from cussing him out.

"Why?".

What is wrong with him? I mean I don't understand as to why he's acting so rude. I've been in a bad mood ever since he picked me up this morning but as far as I've noticed he's been happy as Larry. Maybe it's me. No it's definitely me.

"What is wrong with you?" I snap, glaring up at his ignorant face.

"Me? What's the matter with me? Don't you mean what's the matter with you? You've had a face like a smacked ass ever since I picked you up today" he mutters, finishing his food and pushing it away from him.

I don't need to sit here and listen to his bullshit. Doesn't he think of anyone other than him self. I'm feeling down and he should be understanding of that. Instead he decides on acting like a child. I knew he wouldn't of been any good at dealing with my depression but he could have at least tried to put some effort into this.

"Where are you going?" He groans, watching me stand from our table. Grabbing my bag and slinging it over my shoulder, shoving pass him as he stands in my way.

Circling my way around the standing customers I pull open the door. Stepping outside onto the busy street and inhaling the warm air. Every single sound bothering me. From the chattering of passing people to the loud honking cars. Fast walking down the street I hold my hand out looking for a taxi to stop by, all quick to pass me by.

I turn at the sound of Joseph's voice, watching him slowly make his way up to me. Rushing pass strangers just in effort to keep up with my pace. I should stop being as I know I'm being difficult. But he is also being so blind as to the fact that something is clearly wrong with me. Maybe I myself might not even know what that something is but still, that doesn't mean he shouldn't try and fix me.

Car horns awakens me from my mental rant. Almost being knocked over as taxi screeches to a halt in front of me. It takes me back a little but I manage to stay on my feet. The problem with my life is that I wouldn't of cared at all if this car would of knocked me dead.

The taxi driver yells for me to get out of the road, making me blink and realise that I'm starting to hold up traffic. Joseph's voice startles me again as he paces all the more closer to me. I can't deal with him. I know he wants to get close and all its just I have this habit of pushing people away. Because every single good person who enters my life's always ends up leaving it. Joseph is a good person.

Before Joseph can get any closer I shift around the taxi opening up the back door and jumping in. Instructing the driver to go. Leaving Joseph a stunned mess standing on the pavement. His head shaking in disbelief as I pass him. Yes he's upset me, but this is not the right way to go about it. Running away isn't going to solve anything but then again neither is staying.

I don't know what's wrong with me. It's like my depression is always on countdown. Ticking off the seconds until I finally explode. Like a silent bomb going off inside my head. And although nobody can hear it or see it, sometimes the noise is so loud I have no choice but to block everyone out. Depression isn't just feeling a little sad or having a bad day. People hear the word depression and they automatically pass it off as a feeling. Depression is not a feeling, it's a condition. No you don't feel depressed! You just feel sad! Depression isn't sitting in an empty bathtub at night crying whilst your mascara runs down your cheeks. It's sitting up in bed staring at a blank wall trying to feel something, anything. Depression has no special benefits as to like having a boy friend who smothers you with hugs and kissesĀ  and telling you everything's going to be ok. It's more like sitting across the table with him while he's confused as to what the actual fuck is wrong with you. I don't need a reason to feel depressed because depression is already the reason. I'm depressed because I have depression. No other reasons just that one. Sometimes I think that I've felt this way all my life, and the more time I've been given to deal with this the more I've learnt to just accept it. Welcoming its dark petty fullness, knowing I probably wouldn't even be happy if it disappeared.

Then on top of all that I have anxiety, depressions best friend. Wherever depression goes than anxiety is soon to follow. I can't even pick up a fucking phone and make a dentist appointment. It's not that I hate people it's more of the other way around, I think people hate me.

I give the driver the address Nicholas sent me a few days ago. It's where him and Hank are staying. I should text him just to make sure he's home, but if I know my brother than he wouldn't be caught dead in this heat. Like me we share the same hatred for the sun. And on summer days like this then you really can't beat staying indoors locked away from the rest of the world.

I pay for my ride her before jumping out of the taxi. Awkwardly standing while the driver started counting up my change and then driving off. Leaving me stood outside a couple of rough looking apartments. A gym sat next to them and street my brothers are currently living on seems pretty lively. Although I appear to be the only white guy stood on the pavement and by the looks most of the youth are giving me I think it best if I find door number 13 right away.

Walking over to a metal frame staircase I budge myself pass a gang of boys stood in the middle of it. Each one hushing their voices until I made it pass. My brothers apartment happens to be on the second floor so luckily for me I don't have to walk to far up. Hoping I've gotten the right door I close my hand into a fist before knocking steadily. I would of used the doorbell if it wasn't for it being broken.

Quietness for a second. Until I hear the heavy padding of feet making themselves up to the door. Isn't it funny, just by hearing some foot steps I can tell its my brother. The broken door pulls open, their standing Nicholas who seems just a little surprised to see me. A quirky smile set on his face as he pulls me in for a hug. The smell of cigarettes and weed somehow making me feel at ease. My brother hasn't been showing up at school lately and now during the holidays I've left it far to long to see him, I need this catch up.

Pulling away I raise an eyebrow due to the sounds of other voices coming from inside, Nicholas quick to reassure me with a smile before leading me in.

"I was beginning to wonder when you were gonna pay me a visit" Nicholas sniggers, shutting the door behind me and then locking it.

Motioning his skin head forward for me to walk in. I smile, wondering if me not coming here did actually offend him. I've just been so busy that's all. Walking down the tiny hallway I walk into the door on the left. I could of already told you from the sound of that southern accent that Jason was sat on the couch. Arms crossed and jaw clenched in tight, sat next to him in the exact same position was Tristan. Hank nowhere to be seen.

"Hank's at work" Nicholas pushes pass me, sitting on the coffee table and cracking open a beer. How rude of him not to ask me if I wanted one.

"Hey Johnny-bo-" Jason stops himself as my eyes glare up at him, daring for him to finish that sentence by using that awful name.

"Hey Jason, hi Tristan" I soften my glare. Taking Nicholas beer as I pass him, sitting myself in the middle of my brother and his boyfriend.

Looking around I take in the apartment Nicholas has left me for. It's far from nice, the smell it enough to put anybody off wanting to live here but I guess it's a roof over ones head. The living rooms quite small and cramped and the what seems like a kitchen peaking out from the door on the right that seems just as spacious. Still it's just a place to stay until Hank gets back up on his feet.

My eyes fall on Nicholas, his face telling me I that I'm doing something wrong although I can't seem to figure out what. All I've done is sit down in between Tristan and Jason. Oh. Spying over at Tristan who seems to be paying non of us attention as he scrolls aimlessly down on his phone, Jason doing the same thing. It feels as though there's an elephant in the room and I've just gone and sat on it. Usually Jason and Tristan are joint at the hip whenever there together, at least that's how they were at the hospital. Now there barely looking at each other.

"What's wrong?" I ask, turning my head to look at the both of them.

Jason all but sighs as he un-crosses his arms and glares over at Tristan.

"I don't know. Why don't you tell him, Tristan" Jason sneers, leaving me all the more perplexed as I turn to face Tristan.

"It's nothing-".

"Tristan thinks we're all a load of interbreed freaks" Nicholas shrugs, putting it out there.

"I don't think that!" Tristan stammers, looking at me and shaking his head in denial.

It surprises me how Tristan even knows we are aloud of interbreed freaks. I'm sure my brother must of time him but it does make one think. Did Joseph tell him? I know Jason is a very private person and for him to tell Tristan about his roots means that this boy means an awful lot to him. All his life Jason has been ashamed of the fact that all of us a so closely related to one and other. I'm sure nor everyone can get their heads around such thing that my mother not only gave birth to her sons but her nephews too. Yes it is corrupted but so is everything else.

"I'm mean it's just...weird, that's all" Tristan tries to justify himself.

"How so?" I ask.

"Dude, that's your cousin slash brother!" He groans, frustrated with us all, pointing a hand at Nicholas.

Who I am surprised hasn't already knocked Tristan's head clean off his shoulders for saying such things.

"What?" My triplet gasps, coving his mouth, "I have a cousin?!".

I laugh along with him, Tristan shaking his head in disbelief.

"Look it's nothing to worry about" I straighten up, handing Nicholas back his drink, "so we're all a little mad".

The laughter stops and Nicholas soon sits up straight. Realising that we are indeed fucked. Jason sits up, uncomfortable with what I have just stated. Because in our own little way each one of us are a problem child. You know that saying, about every family having a black sheep. Well I've come to learn that me and the rest of my family are all black sheep.

"Interbreeding; it only effects the children's children" Nicholas inhales, "speaking of which I have something to show you, follow me".

He stands, pulling me up from the sofa and then leading me out of the room and back into the hallway. Opening up another door and pushing me inside. A bedroom, big enough to fit a bed and a wardrobe in. The rest of the floor cramped and littered with Chinese take out cartons and comic books.

"Where does Hank sleep?" I ask, while Nicholas falls to the floor, rooting under his bed for something.

"On the sofa!" he yells, my mouth makes an 'o' shape as I sit on the bed, kicking off my trainers and crossing my legs Japanese style.

"It's so hot" I complain, tugging at my jumper, looking around at the rest of the room.

"Well then take that hideous jumper off, dick head" a muffled groan comes from underneath the bed making me smile as I pull Patrick's taste in clothing over my head. The still air coming from the fan in the corner of the room fanning my pale body, suddenly the hot weather didn't seem so bad after all.

A small box lands on the bed followed by Nicholas. I watch as he opens it with great care, taking hold of the piece of paper inside it and then handing it proudly over to me.

I pull my eyes away from his. looking down at the scrap of paper in my hands my heart skips a beat. It's one of those ultra sound photos. Just a blur of what's meant to be an actual human being, I'm barely able to make out a head and a tiny hand. And even though it looks like a scribble a toddler could easily draw my brothers eyes stare down at in awe.

"Boy or girl?" I ask curiously, tilting the piece of paper to see if I could make heads or tails of the thing.

"We don't know yet. Selina wants to keep it a surprise" he hums, taking hold of the picture, "it's healthy, that's the main thing".

It's hard to think that Nicholas, my brother, is about to be a dad within the next couple of months. He's still only a child himself and wether or not he's going to make a good parent is beneath me. I'm sure he might surprise me, turn out to be an excellent father and proving everyone wrong. Or he could let his state of mind ruin him. No prizes for guessing which one of the above is more likely to happen. He's just a few sandwiches short of a pick-nick basket that's all. No big deal.

"She wants me to meet her dad. He's finally come to terms with all this and has agreed to help us out the best way he can. I think this baby is going to change my life, Johnny" he breaths, placing the picture back into the little box. Shutting it up carefully before reaching over and placing it on his bedside table.

"When can I meet her?" A question leaps to mind, Nicholas rarely ever talks about this Selina and I haven't been properly introduced. I think I have a right to know the mother of my niece of nephew.

Stripping off his t-shift he smirks over at me, shaking his head and then chuckling, "soon".

I can't think of a better way than to spend my evening laying in bed talking about absolute rubbish with my brother. Makes me feel normal, because this is something that normal people do. Have normal conversations and behave sensible. It seems as though the longer Nicholas stays away from Patrick the more sane he becomes and I'm in love with the fact that I sat back and let him leave with Hank that day. Finally, a

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