I spent the rest of the weekend, deep in thought, closed up in my bedroom.  I even faked being sick so I didn't have to go to church on Sunday, which I never do.  I thought of what I wanted for me. 

Not what everyone else expected for me.  I decided that there was no way on earth that I was going to follow the Mormon religion for the rest of my life. 

I didn't even want to go any longer to church, but I knew I would be made to. 

I would have to just get up enough courage to tell my parents. 

One day.

Monday morning, I made a point of getting to the bus stop just as the bus showed up.  I didn't want to have to converse in any way with that rude....Ryan boy.  He had hurt my feelings, and really...I didn't deserve it at all.


The clichéd 'Same stuff, different day' was how I summed up my Monday at school.  I managed not to put myself in any uncompromising positions today, where I could be ridiculed or humiliated, which was a bonus. 

Monday, Wednesday and Friday Guitar Club at lunch time helped stopped me being in the fire line of everyone’s lunch time boredom.

"Brendon, a package came for you this afternoon.  Strange.  No postage stamp or return address,"  mom said, as I walked in to the kitchen and grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl on the counter.

Sitting next to the fruit bowl was a taped up shoe box, with my name in black marker texta.  Simply marked, 'BRENDON'.

I cocked my head to the side, wondering what was in there.

I don't really think I wanted to know.  Maybe it was something foul, that some rotten kid from school put in our letter box for a joke.  It's been done before.  I didn't want to open it.

"Brendon? Do you know who it's from?" mom asked, curious as to what was inside.

I picked it up, saving myself the humiliation and questions from my mother, who I knew was waiting for me to open it.

"Yea.  It's a diorama I've got to start working on.  We're working in partners and my partner must have dropped it off here," I lied.  Hey.  I sounded good at it then.  Believable even to myself.

"Oh," mom replied and started walking away to get dinner ready for tonight.

With said box in one hand and an apple in the other, I went to my bedroom, and closed my door.

By this time, I was curious as to what was inside the box.

I shook it first.  There was a solid clunk, like plastic against plastic falling on to each other.  I smelt the box.  No smell came off of it, so I safely ruled out something dead or a nasty solid bodily object.  I shook it again. 

'Clunk'. 

I put my ear up to it.  No ticking.  Yes!  I'm very over dramatic, but I'm Brendon Urie and I have to be.

With all safety precautions that I could think of; met, I proceeded to take the tape off of the outside of the shoe box.

Taking the lid off, and peering in the box I gasped.

Then a silly little grin erupted on my face.  I knew exactly who they were from.

There was a c.d walkman, and three c.d's inside, Blink 182 (Enema Of The State), Counting Crows (August and Everything After) and Third Eye Blind(Self Titled), with a folded up piece of paper.

I took the piece of paper after placing the disk covers on top of my pillow, and unfolded it.

Brendon,

First of all, you need to stop being an uptight fucker.
Secondly, I'm sorry.  Very sorry for being such an asshole.
Thirdly, This is your homework. Listen to these c.d's at least three times before judging them.
Fourthly (I guess that's a word, right?) By Wednesday I will give you a pop quiz on this.
Fifthly, I want these all back unscratched and unbroken.

Enjoy!  

Ryan Ross


'How could I not like him?'

I didn't get to sleep until well after 2am that night.  I opted to use my own c.d player with headphones.  At first play,
Blink 182 made me cringe with what seemed...the singer didn't sing, he sounded like he was whining, holding his nose sort of.  Especially in the song Track 8 - All The Small Things. That bugged me, but....after a few more listens, I loved it.

Call me a prude, but some of the lyrics that I caught made me blush.  Lyrics....with cross dressers, alcohol, sex, sex with dogs? and a whole heaps of swearing......Was I perverted listening to such stuff?  My parents would kill me if they knew I was listening to this.  I'd make sure in the morning to hide these. 

Counting Crows was a different style of music all together, but none the less, very addicting.  Third Eye Blind.....would have to take me a bit longer to get into, but none the less, sounded okay.

The next day, mom kept me home from school.  She dropped my glasses off at the Optometrists to get a new frame.  Not worth me going to school when I couldn't read a thing.  Well, I could if I had a text book up to my nose.  I had to pick them up at 3pm.

Perfect.  I spent the whole day listening to those three c.d's, obsessively.

Wednesday I dreaded going to school.  I would have to give Ryan back his music.  I decided to delay it until after school, so I could have one more listen to mainly Blink 182 and Third Eye Blind.

"So, Brendon......what did you think?" Ryan walked over to me, as I waited for the bus.

I decided to play stupid.

"About what?" I tried to look confused, looking across at him, while he took a standing position beside me.  I couldn't help but notice his pair of white pin-striped pants he wore today.  So tight.  How does he get into them?

"The c.d's,"

"What c.d's?"

Ryan looked a little afraid for some reason.

"I.....I left a package for you in your....oh shit!  You didn't get it?"

"Oh the shoe box?  That was from you?  I threw it away.  I didn't know....." I tried to keep my face serious.

"Threw it away?  Shit Brendon!  My favourite c.d's.......and my walkman were in there.....I was going to lend you...." he spoke in an anxious tone.

".....and I loved it.  Thank you Ryan," I smiled, watching him sigh with relief.

Ryan then slapped me in the back of the head playfully.

"You fucker!  You had me.......I was about to march your ass back home and make you search though the rubbish to find it!  Brendon!" a smile fell upon his face.

The bus then turned up.

"Ryan, I was wondering if I could have those c.d's a little longer.  I'll drop them around about seven?" I asked, as we walked onto the bus.

"Sure," he called back, heading towards the back of the bus.  I took my usual front seat, just behind the driver.

That afternoon, three of Ryan’s 'new' friends caught the bus and went back to his house.  All boys who hated me, so I made sure I ran home, so I didn't have to listen to them call stuff out to me, which they started to do as soon as I got off of the bus.

Who Ryan chooses to be friends with was none of my business.

After dinner that night, I put Snoopy on her leash, grabbed Ryan's c.d's and walk man and went first stop over the road to return his things, before I planned to go to the park. 
Mom and dad were out for a few hours door knocking.  Missions; as we call it.

I knocked on the door of the Ross household.  Mike answered the door.

"Oh hey Brendon.  Come in," he smiled.

I shook my head and looked down at Snoopy.

"I can't.  Hey, is Ryan in?  Can I please see him?" I asked, before I heard a few people laughing from only feet away from the front door.

"It's Brendon Urie!  Hey.....Brendon!  I heard you fell into the piss trough last week.  I can still smell you from here!" a voice called out.  I had no idea who, but I was so humiliated, having Mike even hear that.

"Hey....Josh...remember that time they put shit in his school bag.....and he walked around for most of the day......fuck he reeked.....and that time you and I brought magnets to school and attached them to his braces...." now they were hysterically laughing. 

I pushed Ryan’s stuff into Mikes arms and shook my head.

"You know what?  Forget it," I clenched my teeth, and left for home.  I was in no mood to walk the dog now.  I left her in the hallway, and ran upstairs and locked myself in the bathroom, crying through pure humiliation.  I hated me.  I fucking hated who I was!  Everything!  I wanted to die!  I wanted all of this to end!

I opened the medicine cabinet....and searched frantically for something that would hurt me.  Something that would help me end it all.   Tears rolled down freely, stinging my hot cheeks.  My chest was so tight that I could hardly breath.  My body trembled with anticipation and want.

There were no pills.....I couldn't over dose on vitamins that I was aware of.....then I spotted it......

Taking it out of the cabinet, I took one final look into the mirror.

"I fucking hate yooooooooooooooooouuuuuuu!" I screamed at my reflection, before taking dads 'cut throat' razor closed my eyes and cut at the underside of my wrist, and slit up ways.  I had no idea what I was doing, but.....I hoped to die. 

It hurt like nothing I've ever experienced before, and I had only cut up two inches. 

For good measure, I opened my eyes, and swapped hands and did the same to the other side.  Yes.  I was maybe doing something right for once in my life.  I saw my blood dripping onto the white tiles, feeling it trickle over my hands.

Once the other cut was made, I threw the razor into the sink, and looked into the mirror again at myself and half smiled, while still crying.....and laughed for a second.

"You deserve to die you fucking...freak!" I never wanted to see that face ever again.

'Never again!  Never......again!" I sobbed, looking away, but kept my mantra up, sliding down the wall until I was sitting, leant up against it. 

A sobbing mantra was in full force.  My head was a mess. 

All I had to do was wait to die while I watched the blood trickle from my self inflicked wounds, and muttered to myself.