I’m done—split wide open, can’t hold the pieces no more. Cops hauling me in again, pinning theft on me—Alex’s money—it’s too damn much. I didn’t take it—Riley did, I’d swear it—but nobody’s buying my shit. World’s caving in, walls pressing tight, air so thick I can’t pull it in right. Always kept my chin up, fought through, but now I’m sinking, chest drowning in it. Alex just stood there—eyes dark, mouth shut—watching ‘em drag me off. “You know me!” I yelled, voice cracking raw, but he didn’t say jack. Didn’t stop ‘em. Didn’t back me. That’s the knife—him not even trying.
Silence between us was a wall, thick and ugly, carving out where we used to fit. Watched him, begging for a flicker—something to say he still gave a damn, still trusted me. Nothing. Blank.
Town’s flipped—cold looks, whispers trailing me—and now this, theft slapped on me, like I’d gut Alex after all he’s done. Betrayal’s choking, everywhere. Ain’t just the cops—whole damn place has turned. Used to feel warm, like mine—now it’s a stranger, glaring, judging. Feel their stares even when they ain’t there, air heavy with it, waiting for me to snap. Can’t win. Can’t crawl out.
Out on bail—barely—and back at Sam’s, but it ain’t home. It’s a damn cage, locking me in. Four walls squeezing, air stale with how bad I’ve tanked. Sam don’t get it—never does. Half the time he’s gone, and when he’s here, he’s clueless—can’t fix this. How could he? Ain’t walked my road. Need someone who knows this hole, who can yank me out, but all I got is this empty-ass room.
Slump on the bed, head sinking into my hands. Room’s still trashed from Riley’s break-in—sketches ripped, desk flipped, knife stuck in the wall—mirrors the mess in me. Hands shake, chest clamps tight—can’t breathe deep. Suffocating. Something’s cracking inside, and I can’t stop it. Losing grip—everything’s slipping.
Pressure’s a vice—Alex’s doubt, cops, Morgan’s shadow, Riley’s bullshit. Too much. They’re circling, watching every move. Saw her with him at that site, heard ‘em plotting more lies—got nothing to fight with, no proof, no juice left. Casey’s pushing—dumping Morgan’s dirt, digging for me—but it ain’t cutting it. Town’s already judged—guilty, cheat, thief. Alex—guy who made me feel I wasn’t alone—won’t even look my way now. Won’t stand up.
Snap—something busts loose—and I yell, loud, voice slamming the walls. Nobody hears—just me, shredding alone. Scream again, but it bounces back, hollow, like nobody’s left to give a damn. Can’t take it—the alone, the nothing, feeling like I’m fading out and nobody’s reaching.
Sam bangs the door, gruff—“What’s wrong?”—but I don’t open it. “Leave me alone,” I mumble through the wood. He grunts, shuffles off—good. He don’t get it, don’t ask deep anyway. Can’t explain this weight—everything crumbling, slipping through my hands. How do you tell someone who’s never felt it—the sting of betrayal, losing it all, watching the one you’d die for pick someone else? He don’t know that gut-punch of Alex turning away.
Casey calls, voice sharp—“Jamie, talk, we got stuff on Morgan”—but I can’t. “Not now,” I mutter, cut her off, toss the phone to the floor. Buzzes again—her, probably—but I let it die. Too damn tired, and they’re all I got, but I can’t open up. Town’s turned, Alex too—I’m alone, really alone, like after the crash, but worse now ‘cause I had him and he’s gone. Silence screams loud. Never been this busted, this empty—choking me. Wanna yell more, but I’m drained. Just want it over.
Curl up, knees to chest, staring at the wall. Head’s a storm—Riley’s notes, “Alex is mine,” that red-slashed sketch, Morgan’s voice, “Never comes back.” They’re winning—wrecking my room, framing me, flipping Alex—and I’m cracking under it. Pressure’s a noose, tightening, no way out. Not sure I wanna fight it no more. Breath’s quick, shallow—breakdown’s hitting, hot and heavy, spilling out.
Ain’t got nobody—town hates me, Alex doubts me, stuck in this cold hole with nothing. Failing, falling, no one catching me. Tears burn, let ‘em fall, soaking my sleeves, fists balled tight. Can’t stop ‘em—can’t hold shit together.
Scream again, quieter, throat scraped raw—just noise, me alone in the dark. Sounds like giving up. Like losing everything.
Stand, shaky, gotta move, do something—anything—to kill the hurt. Eyes hit my sketches—old ones from the notebook Riley nabbed, new ones torn but still here. Alex’s face—rough lines, his smile, his eyes—strewn on the floor, some slashed with her red Xs. Chest catches fire, anger twisting with pain—grab ‘em, hands trembling. He’s gone—doubted me, cut me loose, stood there while they cuffed me—and these sketches, all I got left of him, of us. Hate ‘em now—hate him, hate myself for still giving a damn—wanna rip ‘em, burn ‘em, erase him outta me. Erase it all.
But I can’t. Can’t let go. And that’s what’s killing me most.