The Double Line
Chapter 5
By: Erynn*Alice
I’m Joel.
I’m in Good Charlotte.
I’m 24 years old.
I’m not a happy person.
I’m a little suicidal.
I tried to kill myself last night. That probably makes me more than a little suicidal. I was going to hang myself by the shower curtain in the hotel room we stayed in last night. Benji was sleeping, and I told him I was going to take a shower. I tried to kill myself.
I failed.
I broke the curtain rod and bruised my elbow pretty bad.
“No, man, I’m fine. I’m alright. Don’t worry. I was just being dumb, trying to do pull-ups on the curtain rod. I’m fine, Benj, don’t worry.”
I don’t know what I was thinking really. I mean, I really don’t. After I hit my elbow hard on the bathtub, all I could think to do was laugh. I had to laugh, because I knew if I didn’t, I’d cry.
I’m a failure, and I’ve been a failure all my life. That’s all I am. I even failed at trying to kill myself. I even failed at getting into a community college. A community college, how dumb am I? How much of a failure must I be to not even be able to get into a community college?
Benji got in. I think he got more oxygen in the womb than I did. I know he did. I mean, even though I’m taller and a little bigger, he’s stronger and smarter in so many ways.
I wish I was Benji, sometimes, because he actually seems to care a little more about himself than I do. When we were in school, neither of us had much of a chance for homework, but he always seemed to get more done than I did. Neither of us failed a class, but he never got lower than a 68%. I never got lower than 60.01%, just barely making the grade.
I guess in life right now, I probably have a 60.01% considering that I am most definitely close to failing life. Or maybe life is close to failing me.
“Benji, I’m serious. I’m fine. My elbow hurts a little, but I’m okay.”
I love my brother, my twin, so much. He’s my best friend and other half, but sometimes, just sometimes, I wish that the egg hadn’t split. I know if that egg hadn’t split things would have been better. I mean, it might have helped the family out financially and who knows, maybe if that egg hadn’t split, then maybe Dad would have stuck around just a little longer.
I think that if that egg hadn’t split, then the Madden family would have been Josh, Benji, and Sarah. There would be no Joel. I was the unexpected one, Benji was a given even if no one knew it, Benji was a given. I was the disappointment. I was the one who took up that extra seat at the dinner table and wasted everyone’s time.
Benji fights for what he believes in. I just sit back and let it happen, and then cry when it’s all over. Kill myself when it’s all over. He fought to get Dad back. I sat in my bed and cried. He’s kissed a lot of my girlfriends. I’ve lost a lot of girls to him. Maybe girls just like that fight and life in a man more than the deadliness inside of me. There’s death inside of me.
“Dude, it’s just because I banged my elbow. I’m not crying or anything, it just hurts.”
Benji wouldn’t understand failure. He thinks he does, but he doesn’t. No one understands failure until they’ve been me. No one understands it until they have to stand on a hot stage and try to please everyone in the crowd. Every night is a failure because every night there are at least ten kids who will go home unhappy with me. Not Good Charlotte, me.
I am the soul problem of this band. We wouldn’t be “posers” if the lead singer could play a fucking instrument. We wouldn’t be “pop” if the lead singer wouldn’t write such damn sappy love songs about girls who never loved him to begin with. We wouldn’t be “shitty” if the lead singer actually came out and said how he was feeling.
I am the soul problem of the earth, why am I here? Why the hell do I even wear these crosses on my neck? Probably because I’m feeding into all that bullshit they fed me in Sunday school about how Jesus died for YOU. Me. It makes me think that at least someone cares, but then I realize that he didn’t die for ME, he died to save everyone, not just me.
If I died, I would be dying for me. I’d die to save me.
“Just go back to bed, Benji, I’m fine. I’ll see you tomorrow, love you.”
Everyone thinks I’m so outgoing because they’ll see me do these interviews or sing these really emotional songs, but I’m so painfully shy. I can’t talk to anyone, girls and guys alike, without getting really nervous. It takes weeks for me to grow into someone enough for me to have a decent conversation. I usually meet people through Benji as far as guy friends go. As far as girls, well, I’ll meet them, but I can’t have them.
The girls that Benji brings around are for Benji. I don’t usually get girls unless someone needs me to be a wingman. The guys know that I’m horrible at being a wingman, so I hardly ever meet girls. I’ll sign autographs for the fans and I’ll make small talk, but I don’t think I’ve actually talked to a girl in a little over a year.
I am so lame.
“I said I love you, man, aren’t you going to say it back?”
I’m Joel.
I’m a problem.
I’m in Good Charlotte.
I’m a loser.
I’m 24 years old.
I’m an err
or in society.
I’m not a happy person.
I’m pathetic.
I’m a little suicidal.
I’m dead inside.
I haven’t talked to a girl in a little over a year.
I’m lonely.
I haven’t been kissed in well over a year.
I’m a virgin.