Jake and Amir (A coming out story)

A coming out story.
All hell breaks loose in the College Humor office when Jake and Amir get into a serious fight. Not only are there fists thrown, but also extremely harsh words. Jake does not want to be in the same building as Amir, let alone work across from him, so he asks for a transfer to Los Angeles.
Amir is left by himself, he appears to not care that Jake has left. But inside, he's falling apart.
Just as Amir has been through enough agony, Dick Halifax comes along. A man claiming to be a therapist, who offers to help him come out of his shell (and come out of the closet).

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4. Chapter four - Amir

AMIR'S P.O.V.

I sit up, a pain pounds within my head, causing me to fall back over. I massage my temples, trying to somewhat relieve the pain.

Why did I have to wake up. Why?

I search my nightstand for my glasses, and slip them over my closed eyes. I open my sleep sealed eyelids, and look around me.

Bottles everywhere, and along with them, the incredibly strong odour of every alcohol known to man.

I brush a couple cans off the bed, they fall amongst the others with a loud clash. I flinch, and groan.

"Shouldn't have done that..." I mutter out loud to myself.

I push the vomit stained covers off my body and drag myself into the washroom.

I flick on the over head fluorescent light. My arms lift my body off the ground, with assistance from the rusting sink.

I stare at myself in the mirror.

You're so fucking stupid Amir, why don't you kill yourself. No one likes you. Not even you likes you.

The thoughts bounce around my mind for the millionth time. I deeply inhale, then release the air.

I can no longer continue looking at myself, and shy away from the mirror.

I pull off my beat up tee, and slip out of my boxers. Leaving me completely naked. I push through the shower curtain and turn on the water. Immediately I step in. I stand still for a moment, letting the warm water run down my body.

I stare at my toes. I so desperately want to escape myself. I hate this. I hate this so much.

I can't feel genuine happiness, I haven't in over ten years. I'm fucking thirty years old, stuck in an office job with no one I can call my friend. Any relationships that have occurred in the past, were quickly discontinued in a result of my behaviours and actions.

I find solace in absolutely nothing.

My entire existence is just a black pit of endless despair, and neglected, wilted hopes. The only time in which I'm not feeling deep sorrow, is when I am unconscious.

I drink myself to that point every single night. And I unfortunately, always wake up to a tear soaked pillow, and another pointless day.

The water suddenly turns cold. I've been in for too long. I hop out and turn off the water. I wrap a dirty towel around my body, and begin to scavenge the house for a relatively clean outfit.

I grab and apple out of my busted refrigerator, and take a bite. On my way out the door I pull on a heavy winter coat that I found in a thrift shop for only $7.50. It smells of old men, but does it's job of keeping me warm agains the bitter New York winds.

I lock the door behind me and trudge down the alleyway and onto the busy streets.

"Only four blocks." I repeats to myself as I make my way through all the people.

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Sorry these chapters are so short...I'm not very good at writing...anyway, I still hope you enjoyed it. Feedback is much appreciated.

Thanks for reading :)

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