Jesus, it was frickin' cold outisde. Normally, a bit of fresh air would have been nice, especially under these circumstances, but now, the first icy breeze felt more like a punch to the face.
Creaking sounds, probably the door closing behind him. He was all by himself now.
Cold shivers ran down his spine, not only caused by the iciness all around him. For a second, he felt almost relieved, but then the images filled his mind anew, Alex spewing insults at him, the disgusted look on his face, the hate in his eyes.
Hate. He hates me. He fucking hates me now.
Again, the urge to simply let himself loose, to just cry overcame him. He could have said no to Alex' proposal, could have stayed at home, read one of his goddamned meaningless fucking books! He could have, he could have and he didn't, because he wanted to prove something to himself. Prove he wasn't just some basement dweller, some weak-kneed pushover. And now, where was he? He still was all that. Even worse, in their eyes, he was now a depraved sicko without self control.
But even so, he was still okay with that. He would have been okay with that. If only Alex had still been his friend. Regarded him as more than just a 'fag.' Of course, he just had to hate gays, he of all people! And of course he just had to find out this way, in front of fucking society!
Was he supposed to be angry at himself now? Or just plain sad, filled with anguished shame, riddled by guilt, pained by fear of loss? What did it matter. He was alone now, standing out there in the open in the middle of the night and nobody beside him would care about how he felt. Then again, maybe not even he did.
Damn it all to hell. He had been standing there in front of Ben's house for what, a minute now? Accomplishing nothing, just more useless pondering. Why was he even trying to understand his own feelings? Ben had said it himself. Party was over for him. Plain and simple. All that was left for him was to go home and sleep. And not wake up, for all he cared.
The first step forward he took was insecure, his legs felt like pudding. Shivers didn't make it easier, nor did the fact that he barely had a clue of which direction to go. Way too dark, only a few lampposts here and there. Or was that the moon? No way, it was hanging far too low. Lampposts, nothing but good old lampposts. They would help him navigate. Surely they would.
Going forward again. Felt like he was walking in slow-motion, the light just didn't seem to get closer, no matter how many steps he took. Maybe it really was the moon after all?
Maxim raised his head and looked towards the pitch black sky. No. Still no moon. Not even any stars.
I am reaching but I fall.
And the stars are black and cold.
The lyric just came to his mind. No idea where it was from. Probably one of those stupid musicals he liked so goddamn much. He didn't want to like anything at the moment.
As I stare into the void
of a world that cannot hold.
Huh. Kinda appropriate. How'd it continue again? Fuck, he couldn't remember, something about escaping or some shit like that.
Of a world that cannot hold...cannot hold...I'll escape now from....
There it was. Mid-thought, mid-step, he had to just give up the fight against the nausea. He fell to his knees, clutching his chest as if something was trying to burst out of it.
Oh Scheiße, fucking Jesus, please don't -
Maxim's body jerked and convulsed and then the bile came up as he hunched over. God, it was the worst fucking feeling in the world. And it just wouldn't stop. Please, someone just had to help him. Kill him for all he cared. As long as it would finally be over.
He hurled for another good minute before his stomach finally took pity on him, leaving him a quivering and groaning mess. So this was it. This was what he got for trying to socialize. Never again.
Never fucking again.
((Maxim Kehlenbrink continued in Land of Milk and Honey, Don't Fail Me Now