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A Mothers Influence

Summary:

An alternate ending to Chatroom where no one dies.

Notes:

I've had this collecting pixilated dust on my computer for over half a year. I was originally planning on making this into a multi-chaptered fic, but I lost my motivation.

I want to thank my betas ZorroPoro, and Lokillian. You've been an incredible help.

Disclaimer: I do not make a profit from my writing. The characters and story belong to Enda Walsh.

Work Text:

William meandered through the garden; his footfalls cushioned by the soft earth. His head hung limply from his shoulders to glare at the manicured lawn. He didn’t pay the other party goers any mind as his was elsewhere at the moment. The symphony of chattering voices that were once blaringly loud, now sounded far away. Peering through pale blue eyes vast and impressionable, like a murky sky. Dark cumulonimbus clouds thundered behind his iris', betraying the owners dangerous state of mind. To the untrained eye he appeared like any other rebellious teenager; dressed in torn jeans paired with unkempt hair. However, if you were to look closer you would read all the warning signs of a storm brewing beneath that disconcerting expression.

The most disturbing part was that he felt no remorse for what he'd done, for what he was still doing. He wondered if Jim was wallowing enough without him there to give him that extra push. Bringing the worst out of someone was almost like a special talent of his. William thought he had done a good job breaking Jim. So it was only a matter of time before the miserable teen finally offed himself. And William would be there to watch.

In the beginning, when he decided to create his own chatroom and call it Chelsea Teens! exclamation point, he didn't have any plans set in store. He was simply messing around on the internet, browsing for anything that might interest him. His chatroom lured in four other misguided souls, and they shared stories and secrets with each other over the anonymity of the web. William  changed that and with permission he collected their pictures. For a while he really did think of them as his friends.

What had started as a innocent way to pass the time had turned into something William never knew he was capable of; something darker. It wasn't until later that he saw them as nothing other than a whining, pathetic lot. He couldn’t remember when his brain made that drastic change. Perhaps his sanity was starting to slip. But when everything was running smoothly, why worry about such trivial things?

It had been all too easy convincing the others into thinking he was this insightful, positive, and happy person who was the voice of reason. They were so desperate to find someone to confide in. Gaining their trust was simple child's play, they practically handed it over to him. They wanted someone they could pour their hearts out to. Maybe even get some answers. William gave them exactly what they needed. 

Mo's situation didn't prove to be half as entertaining as William originally thought. He gradually became less and less interested with every time Mo would ask for solutions to his problems in the group. The boy lost his best friend, Si, who didn't want anything to do with him after Mo followed William's advice and confessed his love for the other boy's eleven year old younger sister. William didn't see anything wrong in what he did. So he may have convinced Mo that friends should be open with each other. While that might've been true, there are just some things people don't need to know. Mo apparently couldn’t scramble enough common sense together before he admitted having pedophilic thoughts about the girl to Si, destroying their friendship.  

Emily was the most boring one out of the bunch. She was clearly starved for attention, namely from her parents. In her own words had she told them this. William was surprised when Eva decided to speak up and offer her own piece of advice. William, never one for being the slow type, quickly caught onto what Eva was doing and he played along, saying that Emily should act out some random violence on her parents. After all a family under attack always pulls together. They both offered their own suggestions about what she should do and Emily emulated them at once. She was a more than willing participant in all of this. She even seemed to get a thrill from the destruction she caused.

 Emily was starting to see the silver lining of things. Her parents were coming together as a family again, and all because of a made-up delinquent they believed was harassing them. Emily got a little carried away, and the vandalism escalated to the point where she ended up setting ablaze the gazebo that occupied the backyard. It was like William said; it was a wake up call for her parents, but there was no getting back to the basics of loving their daughter when she was going to be sent far away to live with her grandparents. Their already limited communication was to be stunted to phone calls. Emily wouldn't be returning home anytime soon until they were sure it was safe and whoever was targeting their family was arrested. She was even worse off than before. William's plans seemed to be pushing in the opposite direction of what she was trying to achieve.  

Eva was someone William chatted with more frequently than the others. Whenever he would hint at his true intentions for Jim's fate, she would pass off what he was saying as a joke. It was a reminder that she didn't share the same interests as him. Eva would never fail to change the subject if she became too uncomfortable with something he said. Even after all the clues he tossed at her, she continued to stick around; further implementing herself in his scheme - Which was just as well for him - In the end he would pin all the blame on Eva and the others. 

 Lastly there was Jim. He was an understandably reserved and timid fellow who carried around a crippling amount of emotional baggage. William labeled him as having 'daddy issues', which didn't even begin to cover the self-blame and lowered sense of worth he felt after his father abandoned him. The boy's deep rooted self hate and vulnerability made him just ripe for the plucking. William didn't consider himself an opportunist by any means, but when a situation such as this presents itself, you'd have to be a fool not to take it. He thought of Jim as just another project. He took enjoyment in molding Jim into an unstable mess. Similar to the clay animated films he made, Jim's story was indeed nearing the final act.  

Now the other Chelsea Teens! were finally starting to cotton on what he was doing. William was surprised it took them so long to figure it out. 'It's too late. They can't stop me.' He thought possessively, 'Jim's mine.'

 His fingers twitched and he ached to dig through his pockets and to pull out his concealed phone, but he couldn't. Not here. Not right now. Besides, he already knew Jim's status was offline. He always kept tabs on what the members of his chatroom were doing. And if his father caught him with a mobile phone after he had just confiscated all his other electronics the other day, he would be in dire straits.

 It was yesterday when his father, Paul, had been snooping around his room when he found that video stored on his computer. His father had told his mom immediately afterwards. William had ignored them as they entered his room later. He made an effort to avoid meeting his parents’ eyes. He didn't try to stop Paul when he stormed towards his computer, unplugging the cords, or rather ripping them furiously from the screen before tucking the device under his arm. He recalled how upset his mother had been. William knew she was only worried about him, but at the time she was only a nuisance. 

 "I want you to promise to me that you're not going to hurt yourself." She said, her voice thick with concealed tears.

 "It was only a video off the internet." William defended quietly, not in much of a mood to argue. His father hobbled over towards him, holding his palm out expectantly as he waited for William to hand over his cell. He was well prepared for this of course. He purchased a back-up phone and even managed to get his hands on an untraceable pistol that he hid safely under the floorboards in his room. His parents were none the wiser. 

 William was jolted out of his reverie by the sharp sound of a spoon lightly tapping against glass. His head snapped up from where it had been staring listlessly at the ground. A quick glance toward the stage confirmed his assumption that his talented older brother Ripley was about to make a announcement. He slipped among the flock of guests migrating towards the platform where his sibling stood. William only half listened to his brother warm up the crowd.  

He stuffed his hands in his pockets, unable to look directly at Ripley as disdain crossed his own features. William watched his parents and brother as he listened to his mother speak proudly on behalf of the launch of her successful Ripley Time Travel book series. He couldn't help but think of how happy they looked standing together like that. His gaze fell on his sibling who cocked his head, gesturing for William to join them. He complied, trudging up the steps slowly while fully aware his presence alone shattered the illusion of the picture perfect family his mind had constructed. 

 He leveled his stare at the floor while his mother was nearing the end of her speech. The audience clapped politely and his mom thanked everyone for their support. William remained stoic, muted envy reflected in his eyes as he observed the sickening display of his brother and mother embracing. When he glanced up again his mother was steeping towards him carefully, almost as if she were to move too fast it would scare him away like frightened deer.  

Acting on impulse, William leaned forward and planted a quick peck on her cheek, just to show her that it wasn't only Paul and Ripley who could be supportive. He would be lying if he said he wasn't glad she was in a good mood. She smiled minutely, her arms coming to wrap around his back. William responded by standing stiffly as if he didn't know what to make of the sudden display of affection. The lulling scent of her lavender shampoo laced with the flowery perfume she wore helped ease away his earlier tension and he reacted by leaning more fully into her petite form and hugging her in return. He savored the moment, squeezing his eyes shut and blocking out everything else around him as he focused on the way his mothers arms felt draped over his shoulders. In those short seconds his mother tended to him he felt loved. It was over too quickly and William blinked his eyes open before pulling away reluctantly. The sun beamed down on her, illuminating the strands of blonde hair surrounding her face. In that moment William thought she looked like an angel.  

They walked together, his mother's arm hooked around his as she spoke to him.  

"How are you?" She said.

 William's lips twitched into an odd smile, a genuine one. Unlike the forced flashes of teeth he put on for show during his therapy sessions. William opened and closed his mouth a few times, trying to come up with the words. There was so much he wanted to say; like how he felt at peace, and cared for and-

"Can I introduce you to someone, Grace?" A woman interrupted, materializing seemingly out of thin air directly in front of them. William saw that his mother was looking towards him as if seeking approval.  

"It's fine. Go ahead." He answered calmly without her even asking. 

And she stretched upward, giving him one final squeeze as she tucked her head beside his ear. 

"I love you." She whispered as she drew away. And for once William believed her. It no longer mattered that he wasn't a character in one of her books, or that he didn't have a series named after him. He didn't feel like such a disgrace, or a stain that his parents tried fruitlessly to wash away, but could never be cleaned. The itching need that lingered on the outer fringes of his mind, the urge to cut- to run a blade across his skin and draw pinpricks of blood. That feeling was no longer present. 

 William watched as she fled, his expression serene. His smile faltered as the phone alarm went off alerting him that someone entered the chatroom. He patted his pockets, feeling for the device - he had forgotten it was there - before he pulled it out. Turning away from the stage, he stared down at the screen. He watched helplessly as Jim appeared to be viewing the suicide videos he sent him. His fingers flew over the buttons as he hastily typed out a message before hitting send.

 'No. Jim, Stop. We need to talk.' 

"What is that?" His father boomed, the older man's eye's widening upon witnessing a flash of footage depicting a boy killing himself. William whirled around, startled that his father had caught him, and at the worst imaginable moment. "Give it to me." 

"I need to talk to mom, ok. I just- I need to go. I've gotta stop what I'm doing, where is she?" 

His father caught his arm and William struggled to free himself as he pushed at his chest, and struggled against him. Paul grabbed his wrists and William winced as pain inflamed his arm; Paul's rough treatment opening the slivers he carved into his flesh hours before. Blood gushed forward, staining his undershirt as he twisted fruitlessly. His fathers’ hands withdrew from his arm upon realizing they were stained red. William wasn't given enough time to react before his sleeves were yanked up revealing the tattered remains of his makeshift toilet paper bandage, soaked with his blood and sticking to the fresh lines littering his skin. 

 "William I thought you were through with this!" He said accusingly, almost as if it was William's fault that the only way he could find relief was through the sharp sting following the piercing blade of his pocket knife. 

 William's breath drew in quickly as panic gripped his throat. Reclaiming his sleeve, he shoved it back down to shield his scars from plain view. He narrowly escaped his fathers’ outstretched hands as they made a grab for him. Scouring frantically for his mother, anxious blue hues cast over the crowd until they landed on the unmistakable head that belonged to his mother.

 William swallowed his nerves and propelled himself forward, making a beeline to where she stood conversing. With his father at his heels, William clutched his phone protectively to his chest. 

 "Mum!" His outburst caught his mothers’ attention, and her expression changed from lax into something resembling dismay as she watched her son and husband run like madmen toward her. They were already turning more than a few heads. And not in a good way. Excusing herself from the conversation. She left her friend and acquaintance to chat among themselves, distancing herself from her guests. 

 "What is this all about, William? I can't deal with this today." She spoke lowly as William came to a halt in front of her followed by Paul. "Can this wait? I'd rather we talk about this when everyone's left and gone home." 

 "He's cut himself again, Grace." His father said, his voice hushed as he lifted his hand discreetly to show her the evidence. She gasped clearly not expecting the sickening sight of blood. 

 "Oh William." Her eye's glossed over, worry and disappointment written clear as day on her face.

 "That's not important right now." William insisted in his urgency.

 "We've been too easy on him, and he just takes advantage. We should lock him up in his room until he's not our responsibility anymore. Then he can go live someplace far away so he can't continue pull this kind of shit with us." 

 "Paul, you're not helping matters any." Grace turned her head away from him and glanced over her shoulder as an extra precaution to make sure they weren't overheard. "Can we talk about this somewhere a bit more private?" 

William felt a pang of annoyance at that; his mother, always so worried about maintaining her flawless image. Grace's dangling earrings swayed as she turned again. Raising a hand to stroke his cheek, she gazed at him forlornly as a silent plea for him to stop hurting himself. And all was forgiven.  

"No. I don't think I have that much time. I've done something bad. And I want to fix it." 

"What have you done?" Her brows crinkled in concern.  

His phone chimed again, coming to life in his hands. Taking that as a sign to leave, he backed away slowly. "I have to go now, I'll tell you everything later." He finished, not turning around to see his mother catch Frank's arm to prevent her husband from chasing him. 

He didn't stop running until he was a few blocks away from home and leaning his weight against a stone wall for support as he caught his breath. William lifted his phone and skimmed over his latest message. It was from Jim. 

'William, are you still there?'

 William paused as he considered his next move. He could ask Jim to meet him somewhere in person, confess everything to him and then tell the other teens afterwards. On the other hand, it would be much simpler to tell them all together at once. Kill two birds with one stone so to speak. Maybe that was an improper analogy under the circumstances.

 Admittedly, he wasn't ready for an actual physical encounter. Communicating through text had always been easier for him. The computer was his domain, and he had a certain level of control over others that he didn't have in real life. William also had the advantage of being able to see the other Chelsea Teens! without them being able to see him, or even aware they were being watched. He'd hacked into their camera-phones and webcams and had the ability to check up on them whenever he felt so inclined. The only drawback was that their images appeared smaller on his cell, especially squished together in tiny columns at the top of his screen. More often than not, he visualized them in a world of his own, sitting around in a circle as they prattled amongst themselves. 

William entered the Chelsea Teens! chatroom. He scrolled through the list of users and was glad to discover that all members were online.  

'Yea. Meet me in Chelsea Teens!, the others are already there.' Without waiting for Jim to respond he cancelled out of the previous chatroom. He waited for Jim's user to pop up on the list before he made his presence know to his other friends. 

'Listen, everyone. I'm going to be deleting Chelsea Teens!.' He knew that would grab their attention. As if on que he was bombarded with questions.  

'You can't dalete Chealsea Teens!' Replied Emily whom he could tell was extremely upset by the way she misspelled a few words. She was a perfectionist and hardly ever made mistakes.

 'What? William, please don't do that!' Eva wrote, worrying a lip between her teeth. William studied the reactions of her and the other chatroom members through the hacked video feed.

 'What for? Does this mean we won't get to talk with each other anymore? But you guys are the only friends I have left.' Came Mo's response, a desperate look in his eyes. 

Jim remained silent; though William was positive he was following the conversation.  

'You aren't going to like what I'm about to say. ' William began, speaking to no one directly. 

'I already don't like where this is going.' Emily said, a visible pout turning the corners of her mouth downwards. William continued as if he didn't hear what she said. 

'I'm not this good person you think I am. I'm a cynic and I only care about myself. I've never once cared about your problems. I believe some of you already know that.' 

'You're too harsh on yourself. You are a descent person. And I like you so you can't be that bad.' Eva interjected, probably thinking she sounded comforting. 

'Yeah, if it weren't for you we wouldn't have met each other.' Emily added unhelpfully.  

'Are you all forgetting the awful turn your lives have taken after listening to my advice? I've been messing with you this entire time. Think about it.' He looked at each of them in turn, his gaze lingering a second longer on Jim as he tried to decipher the unreadable expression on his face. With the lights dimmed and the curtains drawn in Jim's room it was difficult to make out much detail. 

'Oh sod off. You're having us on right now aren't you?' Eva smiled, clearly thinking she guessed right. She couldn't have been more wrong. 

 'No. I'm being honest here.' 

William's gaze shifted off the phone and the minute his eyes broke contact with the screen his surroundings dissolved around him. He was no longer seated among the other Chelsea Teens! arranged in a circle but was leaning against the cool stone wall as the wind nipped at his neck. William reminded himself why he was going to the trouble of divulging everything to the others. He thought of his mother and how horrified she would be of him if she found out her son had been partially responsible for another boys death. The idea pained him. 

"I love you." Her words echoed in his head. 

 Looking down at his cell again, he was brought back to the chatroom.  The others were waiting for him to say something. And William turned to jim before speaking.

 'Jim, you need to get back on your meds.'

 Jim's frown deepened as confusion swept over him, he responded for the first time since he entered the chatroom. 'But... You said to get rid of them and that's what I did. What's going on?'  

'I only told you that so it would be easier to manipulate you. If you want to get better you should start taking your pills again. This whole thing with you, your "therapy" I've been calling it, has more to do with me than it does with you. I wanted to make you feel how I do; like death is the only way out.' His explanation was met with silence as he let the words sink in. He received a gasp from Emily and watched as Eva recoiled away from him in shock. He could already see her long lashes collecting droplets of moisture. 

 'I can't be here.' Jim shook his head from side to side as if denying outright what was happening. 'I've gotta tell my mom- I'm unwell- I need help.' He abruptly stood up and dashed out of the door while clenching his stomach, it appeared he was still going through withdrawals and was probably unloading what little food he'd eaten today into the toilet. Jim would either tell his mother he wasn't taking his meds or she would find him in the state he was now and would take him to the doctor. William was satisfied that he did all he could. He opted for turning to the other teens as he continued speaking.

 'The reason why I'm deleting Chelsea Teens! is because it connects all of you to Jim and this chatroom… It's evidence.' He prepared himself for the brunt of everyone's malice as he wrote the words that were the final nail in the coffin of their friendship.  

'What do you mean by evidence?' Mo asked and it wasn't a minute later that the realization hit him. 

 'You were trying to kill him!' Eva cried out, her face gleamed wetly as the tears welling inside her eyes overflowed. 

'Assist his suicide actually.' He corrected.  'It's another thing entirely.' 

 'That's sick.' Emily looked frightened of the device in her hands. 

'You're mental. There's something seriously wrong with you.' Mo said.  

'I'm sorry.' Was the final message he sent, and he didn't wait to see how the others would react before he began punching in a series of keys that would erase all chatting history between them. The other Chelsea Teens! hated him so he didn't see the point in saying goodbye. His finger hovered over the button that would sever his contact forever before he pressed sharply down.

 Delete.