A Year Without Johnny

Harry Mitchell is a young boy whos best friend commited suicide. Since the event, even more terrible situations have come to pass and Harry is left making heart wrenching decisions. This is his letter that lets you into his life, his thoughts and feelings, as he lives a year without Johnny.


12. Eleven months without Johnny

This month has been such a blur. I just didn’t want to move or do anything because I had nothing to do those things for. There was my mother, mind you. God bless her and may she forgive me, for everything, as I am well aware I have put her through so much hell. Every day, without fail, she would ask me if I would like to do something. I’d say no. I’d always say no.

Usually, I heard her sigh and then begin her decent back downstairs. She never bothered with any follow up questions as she knew she would get no reply. She didn’t even bother to ask me to take the lock of my door as she knew I just didn’t want to leave my room. The only time that bolt was moved was when nature called or my mother left me some food on the landing.

One day, I heard my mother on the phone to my aunt. She was telling her of how I wouldn’t leave my room and how I was ‘just getting worse’, claiming to be ‘worried’ about me. I pulled my headphones on to drown out the rest of the conversation, though it may also have been to drown out the sound of my own thoughts. All the things they were reminding me of and all the things they were telling me, it was excruciating.

Most of the days I would just sit there, wearing Johnny’s favourite t-shirt, trying to remember everything about him. I wanted him to be there. The more I tried to turn my thoughts away from him, the more he seemed to appear.

I couldn’t help but think of him and his irresistible smile that would twinge slightly to the left, lips so pink. The taste of his mouth first thing in the morning, his breath still smelling of the alcohol we shared. The hands that would hold mine and the clear blue eyes that would let me know everything was okay, no matter how anybody felt about us. His body was my sanctuary but now, I am left out in cold, so alone.

There was this one time when me and Johnny went to the cinema and we sat at the back so we could hold hands without people passing judgement. As soon as the lights lowered, he was quick give me a peck on the cheek, knowing nobody could see us. It felt so wrong to be sat there with him and yet so right.

They say there is somebody out there for everyone. What if he was the only one for me? Hell, I know he was the only one for me and I am still so unsure of why I tried to kiss Ricky. I guess it was one of those things that just kind of happen on spur of the moment.

I was, and still am, in love with Johnny Warren. That was my problem. I knew that he was never going to come back and I would never again experience that joy he forced me to have, or that warm feeling his touching brought upon me. Never again would I get to hold him in my arms. These thoughts were all the things that were killing me on the inside. I am nearly just an empty body now, as all I have left is my shrunken heart.

So I sat for weeks on end. I didn’t want to go anywhere. I just stayed alone in my room, without Ricky, without Lizzie, without Johnny. I didn’t understand where everything had gone wrong. I used to have all this love and support surrounding me and it was so perfect, so why had it taken me this long to realise just what I had. I felt ultimately worthless as I had lost everyone I ever loved.

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