||Living with the Enemy|| Bill Kaulitz ||82||

I stirred the brown plastic stick in my black cup of coffee uninterested; everyday the same thing day after day after day. It’s day fifteen since that God awful night. I don’t know why I know the exact number of days, it’s not like I’m keeping count.

I sucked in my belly and pressed my lips together trying to hold back the grimace that kept trying to twist its way onto my face. Every so often I get these sharp stabs of cramp like pains, which have nothing to do with having my period; the last time I had my period was months ago. Normal stuff for me.

I blew a sigh of relief when the pain ebbed away; I shouldn’t stay in public coffee shops too long since I always feel the need to use the washroom. I stared at the steam emitting from my cup and shrugged, might as well take the pill with hot coffee instead of warm coffee. I picked up the folded napkin from the side of my cup and took out the tiny pill; I glanced around and quickly popped the pill into my mouth.

I took a scalding sip of my bitter black coffee and swallowed the burning heat along with the pill. I grimaced freely and snorted; that’s what you get when you swallow hot liquid. I raised my legs out in front of me on top of the empty chair; might as well get comfortable since I’m going to be here for a while. I picked up the blue pen, which I found on the ground a few days ago, from the table and pulled a napkin in front of me.

Thursday, February 28th 2008. I glanced down at my neat writing and licked my lips to figure out what else to write on the pale yellow napkin. I shrugged and touched the pen tip to the napkin. pill number fifteen, started pill taking ten days ago. I sighed, okay, write something useful now woman. curses.

“Stupid Cowshitz Curse,” I mumbled to myself, “Two curses.”

I slapped my pen down on the table and picked up my coffee to drink some more of my bitter coffee; I could have added milk or cream or even sugar, but I don’t want any more sweet things in my life. I closed my eyes tightly for a few seconds.

It’s just not fair; I actually had the balls to feel happy, but no; once again he’s ruined my life. It’s happened almost the same way as that last time; that spineless man is smarter than he looks. How else would it have happened the same way? Well, it’s probably my own curse, helping out the curse he put on me. I shook my head, swallowing down the bitter liquid.

How did I not realize this sooner? Now that I think about it, it completely makes sense; even if it hurts so much. That stupid fool. I hate him with all the blood that is left in me. I grabbed a new napkin and unfolded it to have more room to write. Oh yes, now I’ve got something to note down and burn later.

I frowned slightly; how long ago was it when it happened? I furrowed my eyebrows to concentrate; I always furrow my eyebrows when I can’t see or when I’m thinking really hard. We moved from here six years ago so I would have been—seventeen minus six is—eleven; okay I was eleven when it happened.

I remember walking through the school hallway early that one morning hearing those two boys talking and laughing about how they stole it. I’m a firm believer that stealing is wrong—I’m giving Tom his money back, even if I have to mail it to him—so I ended up following quietly after them. After a while I heard one of them say something about stealing his prized possession. I knew right then and there who they were talking about, and I remember how full of disgust I was at them.

Sure, he stole from me, but it was never sneaky or behind my back it was always in front of my very eyes. I wish I didn’t do what I did back then; why did I have to do it? Simple, I was such a naïve eleven year old girl, and I still am at seventeen. I blinked back some tears. I had swallowed my blatant dislike for him to go and tell him about those two jerks.

It took me the whole morning and afternoon to build up the courage to find and face him. During my contemplation and worrying, I felt this odd feeling of hope that he would be nicer to me because I had decided to tell him about those boys.

I finally found him after school walking up a grassy hill at the back of the school. There were so many people out there, but something made me call out his name a few times, and he only ignored me. I shook my head; he was such a stupid Fuckhead, and he still is! I ran up to him and grabbed his arm to stop him. I remember breathing heavily telling him that I had something important to tell him. You know what that asshole did?

He ripped his arm out of my grip and smirked at me before glancing around slightly at the crowd of people who stopped to stare. I bit my lower lip roughly, seeing the image of what happened years ago, clearly painted in my mind. He stated loudly, “I don’t want to hear your stupid love confession!“ I had flinched back at his tone in shock, but he wasn’t finished with me. He ended it with a bang; “You’re fooling yourself big time if you think anyone will return your feelings.” I had felt so naked and faint at that moment.

I shook my head and mumbled to myself, quoting his final words before my heart dropped into my stomach, “I’d never date you even if you were the last girl in the world. Disgusting!”

I gasped; how could I have forgotten him saying that to me? I felt tears leak out from the corners of my eyes. He played me. Fucking hell. I should have known. After he had said his part I had left without any reaction and I entered the building; for my revenge I stole the stolen prized processions of his. I laughed bitterly; I still have them back with my so-called family.

That night, six years ago, when I had gotten home I started my canvas habit with the word Disgusting; the next day I was forced to move to Canada. Scheisse! Fuck! When I was eleven I was full of hope that he would be nicer to me. He sticks a knife into my heart crushing my moment of happiness. I don’t react. I get revenge on him. I escape to Canada. I start unhealthy habit with cutting. Fifteen days ago I was full of hope that I would be happy with him. He knocks the breath out of my lungs crushing my heart to pieces with the girl straddling him at the club. I don’t react. I escape to Germany. I start unhealthy habit with taking laxatives, starvation and running. All self harming. My past repeats itself.

I have to admit; seeing him with that girl hurt way more than him humiliating me in front of our schoolmates.

I frowned, picking up my pen again writing slowly. I was right. my past is my present and FUTURE. love liebe. I stared at those two words with concentration before feeling my eyes widen in honest surprise. Bad surprise. Cross out the l in love and add the first initial of my name to the end of the word. OVER. The word liebe. I shook my head writing out the word next to the word over. LIEbe. Love is over liebe is a lie. Love is over for me it is a lie.

He fucking lied to me, calling me Liebe and everything, that he loved me. Hah. He loved to play with my mind. He loves to hurt me. You succeed again Cowshitz. You win. I dropped my head onto my right arm on the table feeling the outpour of tears bleed from my eyes.