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Chapter 5 - A Joke

So, I've been doing a few song fics lately. You all know what those are, don't you? Taking the lyrics of a song and creating a story? Okay, good. So these are the ones I've written. Have fun.

Chapter 5 - A Joke

Chapter 5 - A Joke
song fic of "Sick Sad Little World" by Incubus

A Joke

Watching you there, surrounded by pity, I dread to admit that I hate it. You think you’re so special, having lost your dog? You think you’re the only one to lose someone special to you? You think you’re the first person to fall to your grief?

No, you’re not the first to fall apart. You’re not the first person to tumble into that pit of despair. But I’ll admit something; you are always the first one to complain.

Selfish, self-centered, maiden-in-distress, that’s all you’ll ever be. You can’t even imagine what anyone else would feel. You can’t comprehend the pain of another. You can’t even realize that just by living you are giving everyone around you pain.

The bell rings, shrill and echoing. I scoff, standing from my desk, walking briskly toward the door. Passing you on the way, I mutter under my breath, “You better be careful, or you’ll compromise everything you are.”

I don’t let you respond as I leave the room, heading to the front doors and the parking lot outside.

“Why are you always so selfish?” talking to myself, I yank open the driver’s side door and fling my messenger bag into the passenger’s side. I’m not in the mood to drive anyone home, so I text my usual moochers and turn on the car. I don’t bother to click the seatbelt home, ignoring it completely. Snatching the parking permit form my rearview mirror, I push the car into drive and creep from my parking spot. No one coming; they’re all too busy talking or getting their passengers in the car. Finally.

For once, I’m able to leave the parking lot well before the buses move and before most of the student body has left. The road is mine to conquer.

The world is a drought when out of love,” screams the radio, “Please come back to us.”

I sneer, switching the station. “Sure it is. What a joke.”


At home, I sit alone, just as I always do. But this isn’t because of some horrible tragedy or anything. No, I just always get home before my parents. And that’s all who lives here, isn’t it? Just me and those pathetic excuses for parents. Why was I born to a family that doesn’t even care?

I sigh, standing from the couch and rounding the stairs, my hand placed lightly on the rail. The light from the high window shines brightly on the pale carpet lining the steps.

“If I go up these stairs, will I ever come back down again?” I murmur to the air, glancing about at the den and the unused dinning room. “No real answer, but I doubt I’ll come down again. At least not tonight.”

Sighing once more, I mount the steps, taking two at a time as I trail my hand on the rail. On the landing wall, a portrait hangs, signed by one the house heroes. It reads, “NEVER SURRENDER DREAMS.”

I smirk. “Well, you’re all of the above, aren’t you, guys?” whispers my voice in the quiet house. I turn away from the portrait, taking the next set of steps and entering my own room, shutting the door. I’m making my choice to be out of touch. There isn’t much to hold my attention outside of this room.

Leave me be he said,” begs my radio as I switch it on. I smile.

“That’s what I’ve been trying to say.”

Leave me here in my stark raving sick sad little world,” the radio responds.

My smile widens. “Sure. Why not? I’ve never really had any unpaid confidantes, so it’s not a big deal to leave you all alone.” I sigh, tilting my head, as if the air around me is expecting more. “It’s more than I would care to explain.” Glancing out the window, I lay back on my bed. “But…I do have an open door policy when it comes to blame. And you could say she’s to blame. After all, this all started when she left us. This all started to fall apart when she died.”

The world is a joke when out of love,” consoles the radio, “Please come back to us.”

I shake my head. Whatever. She’s never coming back, ever.


The alarm sounds, signaling the arrival of a car, and jolting me out of my sleep. I glance at the clock. 7:38, pm. Great. I slept the afternoon away. I sit up, glancing at my still singing radio. I shake my head, smiling sadly. Standing, I lift my hand and turn off the radio, going slowly to my door.
Downstairs, I can hear the door open, the heavy steps of my father making me cringe. Great. Douche number one, accounted for.

I open my door and glance over the balcony at him as he sets his bag on the table. Gritting my teeth, I stride down the stairs, ignoring the lying portrait.

“No, no, the voucher, Mike, the voucher,” comes the voice of my father, “if you don’t put the voucher in the envelope, nothing will work.” A pause. “Yes, that’s right. Yes.” Another pause. “No, the first one. You’re-.” Again, a pause. “All of the above, Mike. No, check the box. Right. Okay, I’ll leave the rest to you. Call me if there’s any problems. Alright. Bye.”

I meet my father’s eyes as I round the corner into the kitchen.

“Hey, how was school?” he asks.

As if you care. I shrug. “Fine, I guess.”

“You want to see a baseball game tomorrow afternoon?”

“I’ve got plans,” I say, opening the fridge.

“You’re rather…distant, these days.”

Glancing over my shoulder, I shrug again. “That’s my choice, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, you’re right, I just wish you wouldn’t be.”

Fine. I’ll say it.

“Leave me be,” I bite off, taking a soda and going back up the stairs.

I said it, didn’t I? So I guess this is it. Finally some peace and quiet.


Leave me here in my stark raving sick sad little world,” hums the voice of the radio.

“I thought I turned that off…”



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