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.


7. Six months without Johnny

When I finally realised, I visited Lizzie and she was worse than ever before. Cuts filled her arms from her wrists to her shoulders and burns were dotted around her body. She didn’t say much at first, the vacant look returned to her eyes. All she ever did was sob silently to herself, never talking, just crying. I could tell she hadn’t slept in a while as the bags beneath her eyes were heavier than ever.

It’s pointless me going on at how bad a state she was in but I am sure you can imagine. A girl whose brother killed himself, best friend left her, scared and alone, made to repeat it all because of some nasty girl thought it would get rid of her, feeling the need to harm herself... No, I guess you can’t really imagine that.

I saw Ricky as I left Lizzie’s house one day and he was quick to question how she was. So I told him. I told him every damn thing about the cuts up her arm and the vacant look and the silent sobs and the lack of sanity. He knew, just as well as I did, she wasn’t doing well, at all.

I know I only briefly mentioned Greg, also known as my mother new model of a man when my father left, but he isn’t really an important part of the story. However, there were many circulated rumours of this happening and I thought I would put them all to rest.

“Get out of my house!” My mother screamed, tears pouring from her face. “You stay the hell away from me and my son, do you hear?” Greg stood at the end of the garden, his bag slung carelessly over his shoulder, some clothes lay on the floor beside him.

“You can’t just kick me out,” he retaliated.

“This is my bloody house! Now clear off before I call the police.” The door slammed shut and Greg was left stood alone. He was quick to swipe up his belongings and turn to leave, catching glance of me.

“Your mother’s crazy! If I were you I would check her into a psychiatric hospital.” He spat in a grim manner. “Who knows, maybe you can get a two for one offer with her and Lizzie.” My head jolted and I stepped towards him in one giant stride.

“My mother is a good woman,” I said, finding myself merely a foot away from him. “And Lizzie’s brother died. Can’t you show any sympathy?”

“She’s a maniac. People like that need to be locked away, away from society and us sane people. She is just a deranged mess, just like her brother was!”

I didn’t think. I just clenched my fist and swung.

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