â¼ï¸TRIGGER WARNINGâ¼ï¸:
SELF HARM
SUICIDE
VERY DETAILED OF BOTH TOPICS
(Skip the whole chapter if any of this is triggering!)
Song options for this chapter (theres a lot) :
Listen before I go
forwards beckon rebound
meet you at the graveyard
I love you, I'm sorry(this one might not be super fitting)
Demons(Alec Benjamin)
Arcade
Class of 2013
For the last five years, I've always come home and wondered what's the point of even living anymore. I wonder why I even bother when I know that I'll either die from his hands, or I'll become just like the very man I despise so dearly.
But every single time I bothered to keep going. I always make it to another birthday, another school year, another year full of anger, hurt, and agony.
But I don't think I can do this shit anymore. I've tried, I've tried so hard, it might not even seem like much in anyone else's eyes, but I endure so much and for what? Another beating the next day? More scars on my wrists? More punches, more pain, more anger, another bruise on my eye?
Or I'll just shove away the one person who's trying to understand me.
It's all so pointless.
Nothing could possibly drag me out of this miserable house and all of its memories.
I hope God will forgive me.
I hope God will be the one to finally love me.
I hope he understands my choice.
My last hope for freedom.
I wonder if mother had these same thoughts going through her head when she committed. Or maybe... She just didn't care anymore.
All these thoughts run through my mind as I stand at the start of the sidewalk to the house. It's so dark, so dull.
I don't remember the last time I thought this house looked bright.
I pause at the door, something that's become a habit before I swing open the door, stepping into the depressing house.
I walk to the family picture on the wall. Only father and I stand in it. The photo was taken a year ago. He was kind enough not to hit me in the eye for a while, so that I'd look like the perfect priest's perfect son.
Such a perfect family.
I hate it.
I yank the frame off the wall, throwing it at the wall as the sound of the glass shattering fills my ears.
I turn away from the living room, and I walk up the stairs towards the bathroom.
I remember I used to fear taking showers and baths for the longest time because father almost drowned me for something I had done.
I don't even remember what I did.
I turn the water on, watching as it starts to fill the bottom of the tub before I dig through the drawers, searching for the one thing that I always have to hide so well.
I've been thinking about doing this for a while now. The thoughts have never gone away. Not for a long time. No matter how hard I push them away, how many times I pray, or how good my day could be, the thoughts would never go away.
But, that's okay.
It's all okay now.
I slip my clothes off, folding them neatly before placing them on the countertop.
I hold the blade carefully in my hand as I meet my own gaze in the reflection of the mirror. I've always hated myself. Even when I was young, I hated myself.
I hated myself, who I was related to, who my father was, and who I would be in the future.
As I stare at myself, I see him in the reflection, and I think of how just hours ago... I acted just like him.
I hate this whole fucking town.
But...
It doesn't matter anymore.
I look away from the mirror, ready to take one final bath. The last time I had a bath was probably back when mother was still alive.
Maybe I'll get to see her again. I sure hope I do... I miss her.
I just hope God won't be too mad at me for the huge sin I'm about to make.
I'm a horrible person. Maybe I don't deserve to go to heaven. Maybe I should burn and rot away in hell.
But I can only hope and pray that God will forgive me. He loves all his children... So he must love me. Right?
I'm sorry.
The words echo through my head as I hold the razor blade between my pointer and thumb.
I'm so sorry.
But I can't do this anymore.
The blade presses against my skin, and I press it down, deeper... And deeper. Deeper than I've ever dug it. Blood instantly covers the cut and trickles down my wrist and the sides of the tub.
I cut and I dig deep into the skin on both sides of my wrists, until I don't have enough energy to keep going.
Oddly enough, it doesn't hurt.
It's almost... Calming. Welcoming.
It feels like when I was young and my mother hugged me tight after I had a bad nightmare.
I think I'm going to be okay.
I think the nightmares are finally over. I think I'm getting my last hug.
The metallic smell of blood fills my nose as I lay my head back against the wall, the edges of my vision darkening.
I look at the blue sky out the window, and it looked and felt so oddly familiar.
Oh.
Sal.
Sal Fisher.
The only person in this town who started to get close to me.
And Phillip.
Oh...
Phillip.
I guess I still have enough life in me that tears gloss over my eyes, remembering the two people who I actually... Liked.
Yeah. I guess I did another really bad sin.
I think
I think I liked Sal.
More than... I'm supposed to.
I wonder
If he knows.
My thoughts seem to be slowing
As well as my heart.
I'm sorry.
I'm so sorry Sal- and Phillip.
My eyes shut, a single tear falling down my cheek.