NUMB

The moonlight shone down, brightening the city below me. Buildings of all shapes and sizes loomed in rows, like flowers in a garden. The distant hum of car honks and engines rumbled like a never-ending buzz in my ears. I leaned more against the balcony railing of the hotel we were currently residing in and stared down at the busy city life as it blurred and doubled. For reasons unknown, I found this just down right hilarious.

I think I drank too much... I giggled at that thought, but even the wind could have noticed that my giggle was full of scorn and lacked humor completely.

Not like they'd notice. No one in the band really noticed me in that way.

Like when something's bothering me, if I'm mad or depressed or upset, they don't notice. They never notice. And why should they? They got their "own God damned problems". They got their "own shit to deal with". Doesn't matter to them that I too feel lonely, invisible or depressed, that I too have feelings of self-hatred. I feel scared, I cry myself to sleep sometimes. But it doesn't matter... It's not what they need to deal with... It's not what they need to hear...

In other words...

I'm not Jon...

Scary thoughts, abnormal feelings suddenly filled my head and I leaned my head more on the balcony. These frightening feelings, these thoughts that invaded me were not ones I ever thought of... They were filled with such anger... Isolated anger towards my friends, the four guys who I always thought of as my brothers... Jealous anger towards Jon for always being in the center of attention, overshadowing me, so that no one notices me...

Unsettling anger that came from out of nowhere, but that I couldn't shake off. The thoughts thundered in my head and images came with these thoughts, growing more and more vivid as my anger burned.

I feel left out a lot. There's never been anyone I could seriously call "my closest friend" and mean it. Well, occasionally, if there's an argument that I am a part of, one of my band mates usually defends me. But it's funny how

it's always the same band mate that defends me. But I'd appreciate being known and mentioned every now and then. I play a part in this band, I played a part in our success, but, fuck, I don't feel like anyone cares about that.

I don't get a lot of attention and maybe I brought that onto myself...

Stupid fool...

That insistent thought rang through my head repetitively and I found that I couldn't push it away. In the very back of my mind, I knew it was the alcohol talking, but it was also from the stronger side of me...

The side no one saw...

You're not Jon...

God dammit, I know that. I know I'm not the one cashing in the millions for all of us... But would you look at this connection! I'm not Jon, but I'm hearing voices. Like Jon did. Who fucking cares if it's just an unknown

number of Coors Lights and practically a whole bottle of Jack Daniels talking? It's still voices! I'm hearing voices! Now I can cash in the millions! Now I can write a song about it!

Yeah right....

I just wanna be known... I just wanna be appreciated...

Don't you like being a no one...?

"No..." I mumbled slurrily, my voice betraying me and exposing how drunk I was. I couldn't really feel my body and maybe that was a good thing.

I didn't really want to feel what I was going to do...

I took another swig from the practically empty bottle of Jack Daniels and hiccuped loudly. I would have welcomed the warmth, the alcoholic, poisonous warmth, but my body had become immune to it hours ago.

Oh well, all for the better... Now do it! Do something right!

The alcohol and voices controlled me and I only realized now that as I stared at the city life below me, that I was also able to see my feet, my black Puma sneakers poking out from beneath my Adidas track pants.

I was standing on the railing of the balcony, swaying and swaying and watching as the lights and buildings of the city broke apart and reconnected like a kaleidoscope.

"Fucking cool..." I mumbled, laughing insanely.

Do it! Just do it! Come on, you fucking WIMP!

Body's numb... mind's numb...

I'm numb...

And then, as the alcohol blackened my vision and the world before me and I lost complete control of everything, all I heard was Munky scream "Holy FUCK! David - NO!" before I was freed from my drunken haze and embraced by dark oblivion.

THE END

Note from Kristin: Mmllaa!!! C'est tout! What happened to poor David? Who the Hell knows! I AM

EVIL!!!!!