"God damn it... It wasn't supposed to happen like this."
Jimmy curled up in a ball, snot and blood dripping from his nose. His eyes were red. His guts were falling out.
His hands were clutching at the wound in his chest, and he could feel his guts pushing out.
Jimmy pushed back. Even then, even against his own body, he pushed back. Gritting his teeth through the pain and the blinding lights, Jimmy managed to look down at the wound, a gurgling escaping from his mouth.
He'd been run straight through. He wasn't going to get an acceptance letter now.
And beyond that, there was more. Pain upon pain, wound upon wound. His fingertips were cracked and bloody.
Your guts are falling out. And you care about your fingertips?
He couldn't move it. This was a thousand times worse than anything he'd suffered yet- a single wrong motion, and he might bleed to death.
It's through my back. Its cold and he stuck it right through my back
What was he supposed to do? His body was shaking- blood dripping from his mouth. How was he supposed to win now? He felt tired- the worst hed ever felt in his life, his lowest point. Rosas killer was running up the stairs, free. He was bleeding in the gutter, the walls coated with his blood.
He couldnt let it be the end. He wouldnt allow it. Images of his classmates floated through his heads- Phillip and J.J, and Samya and Teo and everyone else hed vowed to hurt. If he died now, what would he have accomplished? Hed just be another footnote in history. Hed just be a stepping stone for the eventual winner to walk over, on their way to fame and fortune. Just another body in the pile.
I am not just a body in the pile. Im not. Im Jimmy- Im Jimmy. I didnt get one acceptance letter, and my guts are falling out.
His hand reached out, shaking and fading in and out of his vision. He felt so sleepy, which only increased his paranoia. The pain was keeping him awake, but it was colder now, so cold
If he closed his eyes, he was afraid hed never open them again.
Wouldnt that be nice?
His hand shook in front of him, the fingertips bloody and cracked, clutching at the next step.
rest for a bit. Alex will get his later. You shouldnt move. You should stay still.
He began to blink, physically struggling to keep his eyes open. It hurt so much
He wanted to scream, but only blood emerged. His throat was shattered, his body was shattered
You should really just die. Rosa didnt love you. No one will love you, even if you win. And you wont win now. Youve been run straight through, you stubborn stupid fuck. Youre going to die and it wont matter. Accept it.
Please. Accept this.
His hand closed on the step. With an awkward jerking motion, Jimmy raised up his head, his eyes bulging from his head. He opened his mouth, puke and bile and vomit spilling out onto the steps, a grotesque smell filling his nostrils.
Just like Rosa. Just like the grave.
He didnt say it. He couldnt say it, with the blood choking him. But he gurgled it all the same, regardless of who heard and who cared.
Jimmy began to crawl, one hand clutching at the spear sticking through his chest.
Fuck. You. Fuck. You. Never. Fucking. Die. Never. Fucking. Die. Killem. Killem and never fucking DIE.
He could barely see straight. He was panting, struggling from breath to breath, the world hazy and spiked before his eyes. But he pushed on, through it all. With the last of his strength, Jimmy continued to crawl up the steps, toward his death.
Not a single acceptance letter. Not a single honest feeling. If you want me to die Alex, Ill die with noise. Ill die with your throat in my teeth.
Im a hero. Im a fucking hero.
Im Jimmy Fucking Brennan and I did what I had to do. Fuck your shame. Fuck it.
Jimmy continued crawling, pushing himself forward with his mangled hand and his right foot. His left ankle was bleeding profusely, dead weight. It slowed him, but he continued onwards, undaunted, nothing on his mind but the task ahead. Nothing could stop him. He would bleed out rather then quit.
Im coming for you Alex- Im coming for you. Ive come too far-
Through his own tortured breathing, he could hear singing. A tortured voice, singing a song he didnt know, a song he didnt care about. His own song was blasting through his ears, propelling him farther, a step up, then another.
Im going to fucking stick you.
Finally he saw it. The stairs above ended, a doorway. The top floor. Alex. Alex was up there, waiting for him.
Jimmy shoved himself against the wall and began to inch his way upwards.
look how far youve come. Look how far youve come, you stupid stubborn bastard
With a cry of pain, Jimmy brought his mutilated left foot down, and began to hobble toward the doorway, his hands closing around the spear through his chest. He was a dead man walking, his eyes sunken and haunted, and his skin growing clammy and cold. His face was broken, covered in snot and blood and vomit and worse, his body just a map of bruises and broken bones.
But as he stepped through that door, Jimmy Brennan grinned, wide and proud.
Alex was on the floor. Alex was down, and he was shaking and bleeding, staring toward the sky. The wind blew his hair, and Jimmy advanced, his grip on the spear end tightening. The grin never left his face. He opened his mouth, blood spilling out, down his chin. His heart was pounding.
Nearly there. Nearly- nearly there.
He was right in front of him. Alex was staring at him, not daring to move. Jimmy locked eyes with him.
A million things raced through his mind. Rosa standing naked before him, his arm torn apart with the veins cut at the wrists. His own head colliding again and again with a shelf and Phillip back on the beach, the beautiful sound of his skull cracking open, gore coating the sandy beach.
All for you Jimmy. Second doesnt count. Show them what it means Jimmy. Show them what it means to be a winner.
With a horrific growl, Jimmy began to pull at the spear sticking through his guts. He stumbled forward towards Alex, shrieking and crying as the spear tore through his guts, a disgusting sucking noise resonating through the air as he ripped it free. Jimmy began to fall; the world began to move in slow motion. Alex was below him, the spear was above him, his blood and guts all around him.
Jimmy let out a tortured scream, driving the spear down into Alexs neck.
Alex stared up at him, his eyes open, pain evident on his face.
HOW DOES IT FEEL?
Jimmy brought the weapon up and down again, His eyes wide, refusing to shut, refusing to blink. He drove it down through Alexs neck, at the start of the boys left shoulder. Blood exploded upwards, splashing onto his face, drenching everything around him, a crimson haze.
HOW DOES IT FEEL WHEN I FUCK YOU ALEX?!
Jimmy brought up the weapon, his hands shaking, his body shutting down. He refused to stop. Bringing it down one last time, the spear cut through Alexs neck, dead center. He began to scream, the pain overwhelming him near entirely.
There was noise.
There was noise, and justice.