I Don't Do Sadness // Jyrus

When Cyrus returned home, his eyebrows were furrowed and he had a frown on his face. He slammed the door closed and stomped to his room. No one was home, so he laid on his bed screaming and crying and kicking his legs. Buffy didn't want to take her focus off of Jonah so she never picked up her phone to text Cyrus to make sure he was okay or to tell him about how Jonah likes him back.

The door closed, directly followed by his mother yelling, "Cyrus!" Cyrus wiped the tears streaming down his face and took deep breaths as he scrambled down the stairs to meet her in the kitchen.

She too had a frown on her face, but it was more like a glare or scowl. She beckoned to the sink full of dishes, as if her and his step-father hadn't cleaned the dishes since Cyrus had left. They were just waiting for him to come back and do them for them. "Did you forget to do the dishes?"

Cyrus looked down at his feet and nodded. "What, are you stupid? Did you not learn anything?" She asked, referring to his previous beating.

Cyrus shrugged and she took a step forward to him and said, "Then maybe it wasn't hard enough," before going off upstairs.

Cyrus rushed over to the dishes and started scrubbing as hard as he could. He was taking all of his anger and sadness on the dishes and tried to clean each dish thoroughly despite working quickly. He knew there was a punishment for foggy glasses and dirty pans.

As he scrubbed, he pushed up the sleeves of his now damp sweater and brushed hair out of his forehead. When his mother came back downstairs, he tried his best to not look at her and work quicker, for he could feel her eyes on him. They stayed on him, searching. Once they found something his mother's grip was around his left arm and Cyrus froze.

Sitting in plain sight was his two white scars and bruises peeking out from under her hand.

She pulled his arm and spun Cyrus around to face her. Her eyes were squinted at him as she said, "What the hell is this?"

Cyrus tried to escape her glare when he mumbled, "Nothing."

She let go of his arm, throwing it down and put her hands on her hips. "Seriously, Cyrus. I'm done with all of this."

The blood inside of Cyrus rushed up to his ears and he could hear his own racing heartbeat. His mouth twitched and quickly escaped a yell, saying to his mother, "Done with what?"

She might of looked the angriest that Cyrus had ever seen her. Her eyes were full of fire and her mouth was open in shock. She quickly recovered and said, "With you."

Her words made Cyrus feel as if he took a step back, but it was just the feeling of astonishment. He couldn't feel his body screaming at him anymore, and it was bitter silence in between him and his mother as they stared at each other. She broke the space between them and told him to go to his room.

He gladly snuck past her and up the stairs, still trembling. When he door was closed behind him, he felt his body cave in and he collapsed as a mess on the floor. His body was done with him and couldn't create any more tears or emotions for him. He laid on the ground and felt nothing except for sadness.

His body didn't want to move when he pulled himself up. His head ached and he crawled up to his bed, which he sat on the edge of and stared into the ground. His tired eyes slowly blinked as he tried to make his blank mind work. In an instant, he sprang up from his bed and over to his closet. His mind had worked for him and he decided to go back to his father's house. And never see his mother and step-father again.

He went around his room with a duffel bag, collecting the only things he needed. The only things that he'd miss once he left the dark hole of his bedroom and never returned. He grabbed things like pictures and clothes, while his lovely voices returned to echo throughout his mind. Like little people in his head to give him second thoughts on what he was doing.

It's a waste.

She'll find you.

Just kill yourself now.

Once he climbed out of his window and dropped into the bushes, the cold breeze of night approaching swept over him. He started down the street and walked, getting his energy off of pure adrenaline.

He was only off his street when they returned.

They won't want you either.

And he believed them. He thought about turning back to his mother's house and getting what he deserved. He thought about going to one of his friend's houses, but he knew they wouldn't want him. He was mad at Andi, Buffy couldn't stand him, and Jonah wasn't even considered. And those were all of the friends that he had.

He thought about just killing himself there, but he didn't have anything that he needed in order to do that. And he wanted himself to suffer. Life had been too easy on him for everything that he had done and he deserved worse than a quick suicide.