I found my way home. Somehow I figured it out and made it back. My hands shook on the doorknob. My whole body was shaking. It was so fucking cold.

The door creaked as it opened. The kitchen light was on. Mom was at the table staring into a cup of coffee. Her eyes were bloodshot and tired, hands wrapped around the cup. It looked cold.

She didn't say anything. I didn't either.

"Jake..." her voice was soft, worn down, beaten, "Honey, I'm so sorry." She stood up, placed the mug in the sink. She hugged me. Tight. Took a deep breath and sighed heavily. Stood back and looked at me. Kissed me on the forehead, hugged me again and went upstairs. I listened to her walk up the stairs. Listened to her bedroom door close with a click.

I stood in the kitchen a moment before slowly sinking down into one of the chairs around the table. My head fell into my hands. My body shivered. Maybe I was still frozen. Maybe it was something else.

Christmas wasn't meant to be this way. Nothing was supposed to be this way.

Guess I just had to keep my expectations low. My resolve to be better was gone, faded into the long night walking home. Just because there was a girl more fucked up than me meant nothing. I was still broken, too many pieces to put back together. I couldn't be better. I didn't care enough to be better.

I somehow got myself into bed that night. I don't remember leaving the kitchen, or even what happened in the days that followed.

I woke from the haze staring at my computer screen, the blue and white Facebook logo looking back at me. It had been weeks since I'd logged in. I thought maybe I'd have a few red notifications pop up, but wasn't surprised when there was just one.

Clicking on the red icon, a jumble of words appeared on the screen declaring I was no longer in a relationship with Kelsey.

Big surprise there.

I clicked to my home page, my profile picture with the life I had now. Former me was dressed in my football uniform. Kelsey had her arm wrapped around my waist, leaning up to kiss me.

I couldn't change it. Past me was happy, I couldn't just delete him.

With over 600 friends online, I couldn't have felt more alone. Funny how you could have so many connections, but so few relationships.

Going back to the home page I scrolled down, feeling like an intruder as I read through the highlights of everyone's lives. I was looking into another life, looking into a window of a normal life. Nothing caught my eye until I saw something about a New Year's party.

I read through the post quickly, catching the address as I went. Free drinks all night long, not like I was ever going to be invited to that shit anyways. But the free drinks did spark my interest.

And it was tonight.

How the hell had that many days pass since Christmas?

I sighed and stared at the computer screen a moment longer. Moving the mouse around I clicked a few things until a message popped up.

Yes, I was sure I wanted to delete my account. Yes, I did know all the photos; all the memories, videos, and messages would be deleted. Yes, I did want to be deleted.

I stood up, unsure of what to do. It was dark out, almost nine. Glancing around the room my eyes were caught in the reflection of my mirror. A shell of something looked back at me. My eyes were bloodshot and circled with dark rings. My skin a pale sallow shell of more hurt and pain below. Maybe a shower would help time to pass. Maybe a shower would heal the pain.

I dropped my clothes to the cold bathroom floor and looked down at my skinny useless body. My right arm was skinny and pale. The scar ran across my collarbone, over my shoulder and down my arm. It was ugly. Another reminder of what had happened. What I had done.

My whole body looked wasted, pale, sick. Maybe I was sick.

I was.

Sick of remembering, sick of living, sick of being in this house surrounded by memories.

Steam poured from the shower curtains. I stepped in, the water melting into me. Maybe it would seep in and warm the dead thing inside me.

I stood in the shower until the water ran cold, letting the water run over my face, my arms, legs, not thinking, not remembering. Wrapping a towel around my waist I walked back to my room avoiding the mirror.

I pulled on boxers and jeans. Even the ones that had been too small were starting to fit loosely. Everything seemed too big for me. I grabbed a shirt and pulled it on over wet hair. The clock read 9:57pm. I had spent nearly an hour in the shower. Felt no better. I flopped backwards on to the bed and stared at the ceiling. Why had I showered in the first place?

Then I remembered it was New Years. Which meant parties, which meant free drinks. Which meant I was going.

Claire was at a friend's house. Mom was working, no one home to care where I went.

I paused in the kitchen hoping to find what I wanted. Fumbling through the cabinets I finally found the bottle of cheap vodka hidden in the back of the freezer. I tore off the cap and took a swig. It burned. I coughed and took another drink. There wasn't much left in the bottle, I finished it. Left the empty container on the counter.

Ignoring the burn of the liquor, I pulled open a few drawers, hoping to find something. A bit of money, spare change. Mom usually stuffed extra money in the kitchen. Two twenties were stashed under a phone book. I shoved them in my pocket and left the house. Didn't lock the door or turn off lights.

The party was at a familiar house. I had walked there so many times before. As soon as I had been old enough to go outside by myself, I had gone there. As soon as I got a new video game, a new bike, a new football, I had gone there.

And then I stopped walking.

Why was I doing this? What the hell did I want to get out of it?

My feet were freezing. A gust of wind nearly knocked me over. I could feel the vodka burning through my blood and smiled. I was doing it to get wasted.

I didn't want to remember the night, or anything else.

By the time I made it to the house, the party was in full swing. People were outside, laughing loudly and staggering on the snow covered lawn. I could hear music blasting inside, and I smiled.

Then I remembered that was what my life used to be. I used to be popular, used to be one of those kids having fun and not caring about anything else in the world. I wanted to be back in that life, back when I had friends and this wasn't a stranger's house. Maybe I could be normal again for just the night.

"Yo, dude, this party's great!" a kid yelled at me as he clumsily stumbled up the stairs, "More beer inside!" He motioned with his hands, both holding bottles of some cheap shitty beer.

I followed him in.

The house was packed. People were filled up every inch of the familiar hallway. Voices loud covered by music. I went back to the kitchen and saw a bottle of Grey Goose sitting on the counter. Classy. I grabbed it and took a swing, it burned going down. I took another and another until it didn't.

Then I headed to the living room.

It was all so familiar. Everything was exactly how I remembered it, the couch a hideous flower pattern, wooden floors scuffed, a dent in the wall. A photo hid it now, but I knew it was there. Matt and me had been running around the house, shooting each other with Nerf guns. My head had hit the wall, leaving a huge dent.

That had been over six years ago, we had been eleven. It felt more like decades now.

"Jake?"

I turned around, wondering who the hell had noticed me.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Matt was staring at me, a scowl riding across his face.

I almost laughed. Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe I was actually going crazy.

"Hey, it's New Years," I mumbled, grinning at him, "Can't a guy have a little fun?"

"You're already fucking drunk, dude," he took a step closer to me.

"Yeah, in case you didn't notice this is a party, we're supposed to get fucked up."

"Jake, you shouldn't be here," he said, dropping his eyes, "We haven't seen you in ages and you look like shit."

"Funny how things change in a few months?" I said and leaned up against the wall. I took another gulp of the vodka for good measure.

"Yeah, you've changed a hell of a lot," Matt snarled and crossed his arms.

"I'm not the only one, dude. You've sure changed, too."

"No, I haven't. Ever since your dad died you've been different."

It was silent between us for a moment. He glared at me. I took another drink.

"Or maybe I should have said ever since you murdered your dad..." Matt said an edge to his voice.

"The fuck?" I nearly shouted and dropped the bottle of vodka on the floor. It broke. My hands curled into fists, but I kept them at my sides.

"Oh please, don't tell me you didn't think we knew. Of course you fucking killed him, we all know how hard he was pushing you, how much of your life rested on that one stupid game. It was only a matter of time before you cracked."

I lunged at him, my fists reaching his face. I felt his nose go soft under my knuckles, saw blood running down his chin. He had staggered backwards and managed to stay on his feet. I leapt towards him again.

He hit me back, in the gut. I gave him another shot to the face.

"Jake, stop, stop," a familiar voice broke through my mind, "Please stop."

I looked up and there she was.

Just as perfect as always.

"What are you doing?" she asked, her green eyes staring into mine.

"I don't want to talk to you, Kelsey," I said numbly, my thoughts still focused on Matt. I thought he was my friend, but apparently I had been wrong. My fists were still clenched, I wanted blood.

"Jake, don't hurt him please, don't," she pleaded stepping beside Matt and wiped away the blood on his face.

"Why the hell do you care about him so much all of a sudden?" I said, then realized why. "You're fucking him? Jesus fucking Christ, when the hell were you going to tell me this?"

Kelsey glanced down, and Matt answered for her.

"We weren't. You're never here, you never talk to us any more. We tried reaching out. We tried to be good friends. But you pushed us away and we figured you'd never notice," he growled under his breath.

My hands were trembling, I could feel my heart pounding in my head, "I'd never notice what? What a backstabbing friend I used to have or what a fucking whore I had for a girlfriend? Which one didn't I notice?"

"Jake, we had broken up. We were over," Kelsey sucked in a breath of air.

"Oh please, you expect me to believe that you two weren't fucking each other before we broke up?" I rolled my eyes, "That's just so fucking lovely."

The music had been turned down. People were staring, whispering. Making up their own stories of what happened, filling in the gaps where the truth was missing.

It was silent between us for a split moment, and then Matt broke the air, "I think you should leave, now."

"Funny, I was just thinking the same thing," I said coolly and brushed past him. I paused to glance at Kelsey, "Enjoy your new dick."

I grabbed three unopened beers sitting on a corner table and left, making sure to slam the door as loud as I could.