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Life fell apart. It was my fault. First thing I did once the smoke cleared was call my parents.
"Hey guys, what's up," I said, sounding chipper. The hyper-pleasant tone put them on edge, since they were well aware of all the details of my recently imploded life.
"H-hey Corey Billie," my dad said. "Everything okay?"
"Yeah. Look, this will be short. Just had a quick question for you," I said, making my voice exaggeratedly slick and glib. "So, I was wondering, uh...Why'd you guys ever let me out?"
There was a pause. I knew my parents were looking at each other.
"Wh-what?" my dad said. "What do you mean, son?"
"Should have never been let out of the house."
Another long pause.
"Done nothin but damage out here."
My voice broke, and tears slowly welled in my eyes. I clenched my jaw and grimaced out the window. My left eyelid twitched severely. I had developed a left eyelid twitch in recent months, the mark of derangement in cartoon characters.
"Corey, honey...What happened wasn't all your fault," my mom said gently. My stomach dropped and I barely held back from breaking. I grit my teeth together in pure self-hatred.
"Yes it fucking was," I growled. "Yes it fucking was. Look at you, you can't even answer. C'mon, it's a simple question. I wasn't ready, and you let me out anyway. So why? Why'd you lemme out? Why you lemme..."
I began to sob like a child. I slammed my fist on the table. Then I began to mock my own sobbing through my actual sobs. "Wah fuckin wah. Wah fuckin wah!"
"Corey Billie, you're a good kid..." my dad started to say.
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