Goth - 1. Chapter 1: Emo

I was awoken by a loud beeping noise blurring down my left ear, not too harsh, but enough to draw my attention. The alarm clock. 7 am on a Saturday and I was already awake. Fucking great…

This isn’t normal life for me. For god’s sake I’m normally just going to sleep around about this time on a Saturday. But today was different… Today I had a date with the boy of my dreams. A beautiful, charismatic boy with long ginger hair covered by his signature black beanie, the soft contours of his face accenting it perfectly. And then, there were his eyes, those crystal blue voids I could stare into all day. I didn’t have time to think about him. Not now…

I looked in the mirror, and staring back at me was an unforgiving face. Note to self; never go out partying the night before a date. My brown eyes were ‘supported’ by black rings sagging beneath them, whilst a hangover meant that I could barely keep my mouth shut. Not to mention, my hair was an absolute state. ‘Shit’ I droned, trying to remember the events of the night before. Hold on… He was there!

2 hours later and I’ve gone through 3 espressos and a shower that lasted 20 minutes too long. The bags under my eyes were no more thanks to a dash of foundation, and my black hair was combed neatly into the usual style; ‘I don’t know what I’m doing’

“DAVID JONES GET DOWN HERE THIS INSTANT!”

Great, exactly what I need… I slip into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt before throwing on my slippers and running down the stairs. The answer precedes the question, a half empty bottle of Jack Daniels in my mother’s hand.

‘Oh, erm….. Well….’ Come on brain…. Don’t pack in now! I need an explanation!

“What on earth is this?”

My mother’s green eyes were usually loving and compassionate. But this morning they had a glare to them which told me not to bother lying my way out of it. I was stuck this time, and I was never going to live it down… “It’s a bottle of whiskey” I said as calm and collectively as I could.

“And what is it doing in my house?”

Shit… “I was drinking it” I muttered, the guilt in my voice clearly obvious. My mum grabbed me by the arm and sternly dragged me into the living room, where I found none other than my ravishingly cute boyfriend. She knew... “So you know then? My big secret?”

“Well, Sam turned up at around half 9ish saying he wanted to surprise you, and the flowers gave it away”

I turned to see a bouquet of roses sat on the chair, my name written in italics on the card. How sweet of him. But now my rouse was up… My mum knew I was gay and I wasn’t the one who told her. This was the definition of awkward. “I was going to tell you… I just had to wait till the time was right”

“Sam coming wasn’t what told me you’re gay. You did it yourself, you were so pissed you just blurted it out and starting talking about how cute ‘Sammy boo’ is. But I must say, you have better taste in men than I ever will”

Both I and Sam blushed at this, knowing that this was only going one way. My mum handed me 2 £20 pound notes, and told me she didn’t want to see a penny of change, before ushering us both out the living room and telling us to ‘have fun’. You bet we will….

I should probably talk a bit about myself. My name is David Jones (How cliché mother…), I have deep brown eyes and brown hair, but I recently had it dyed jet black. And before you ask, I’m NOT an Emo, a Goth, a Scene or any other name you can think of. I’m an ordinary 15 year old boy from Liverpool. Well, as ordinary as gay can get with today’s society…

“So, where are we going babe?”

Sam asked me softly, slipping his hand into my back pocket “Well first, I’m going to put some shoes on” I knew that would make him look down.

“Ah, that might be an idea”

We ran up to my bedroom together, giggling all the way like two excited schoolgirls. We leapt into my bedroom and closed the door behind us, before racing to the draws to find a pair of socks. Pulling out a pair of neon greens, I quickly decided to look further into the abyss of my draw.

“Aww, I liked those ones”

“So did I, but I don’t want to blind the people that dare look”

“Point taken…”

After 5 minutes of hunting I finally managed to find a pair of socks that weren’t going to damage someone’s eyeballs, a grey pair with a black toe, heel and trim. I slipped them on followed by a pair of black Donnay trainers with grey highlights, before putting a jacket on and giving Sammy a big kiss. We headed out for town, knowing that we had a fun day ahead of us.

Sammy is the shy person in class, the one that won’t talk to you and you won’t talk to him, but outside of school, he is a cutter, a scratcher and he’s constantly carrying a switch blade on him because he’s so anxious. I was starting to wish he’d stop bringing it, because I didn’t feel comfortable with it, but without it he wouldn’t have the courage to come out of his bedroom, never mind the house. It was only when a police officer stopped us that I realized the knife was sticking out of his pocket.

“Morning lads”

The officer had a tone in his voice that hinted towards him not letting us off with a caution. I heard him muttering a few words into his radio, only being able to outline ‘2 IC3’ and ‘concealed’. Fuck… He thought we were going to attack someone, and we all knew it.

He kept talking to us, asking us questions about why we were carrying a knife with us, before asking if we had any large quantities of money. I told him I had £40 pound, at which point he told us we were under arrest under suspicion of armed robbery. He confiscated the knife from Sammy and my cash before handcuffing him and restraining me by hand until the transport arrived. Boy was the IPCC going to hear about this…

I was cuffed and loaded into the back of a small yellow van with Sammy.

“Sorry” Uttered Sammy, trying to hold back the tears

“Look at me. We’re going to be fine” I said to him, trying to reassure him. The rest of the trip was silent, apart from the odd sniffle from the ginger hotty.

We were driven to the closest station, processed and taken to the cells. This is where I broke down. I was sat in a police station being charged with armed robbery and waiting for my mum to arrive. At least she could offer an explanation for the cash.

When my mother arrived, Sammy and I were taken to the interview room where she and the arresting officer were waiting. My mum hugged me tightly, making sure I was ok. The foundation had streaked downwards from the crying and lines of black could be seen underneath. She proceeded to check up on Sam and quickly sit down with us. The officer started the recording, stated his name and number (Which I made my mum note down) and began to question us.

“So, where did you get the money from?”

“My mum”

“Ok, Mrs. Jones can you confirm this?”

“I can.”

I detected a stern hint in my mother’s voice. The officer wasn’t happy about it.

“Mr. Jones, if you would kindly leave the room”

“NO! HE IS MY BOYFRIEND AND I DESERVE TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENS” I pounded the desk with my fist before I grabbed the evidence bag with the knife in and threw it across the room. Wrong move…