Hurt.
(Trigger Warning. Not for those with depression.)
Footsteps could be heard echoing from the hallway as Emil Steilsson, a 14 year old boy crept along to his destination. His older brother, Lukas Bondevik, was going to be home any minute. His brother's words bounced on and off of the dark caverns Emil calls his mind. "Make sure you eat today", The voice said. "I don't want to come home to find you gagging yourself again.". Emil clenched his hands as the tears began to roll down his cheeks. He couldn't take it anymore. "Fuck!" He yelled, slamming his fist into the white wall, feeling and hearing part of the wall crumble at the sudden action. He didn't feel needed. He felt that all he was, his entire existence, was just there to worry Lukas and his close friend, Leon Xiao. He hated seeing them suffer from his choices that slowly killed him inside, crumbling his soul just like the wall he had just unleashed his fury at. He calmed himself down by breathing in and out slowly. 'Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale.' He thought to himself.
Once calm, he walked a few steps over to an oak wood door. This door led to the bathroom. He reached his hand through the hole where, in a normal home, the doorknob would be. He got a memory at the feel of his hand brushing against the course wood.
"Emil! What the hell are you doing in there?! Come out already!" Lukas yelled, pounding his fists onto the door. Emil looked up, shocked. Lukas had been there? Emil grabbed the doorknob and tried pushing himself up, dizzy and nauseous from practically gagging out his insides. As he got up, he slipped on some of the drool that had gotten onto the floor from his hand going down his mouth and being pulled out quickly in fear of puking on himself. As he fell, he roughly pulled on the doorknob, causing the silver handle to be pulled out. "Shit!" He cursed as he fell back, hitting his head on the edge of the bathtub behind him. "Emil!" Lukas almost screamed, kicking open the door. Emil rolled over on his side, his injured head now visible. Lukas crouched next to him, holding a hand over his mouth to keep from letting out an emotionally pained sob. Emil's hair, his beautiful, extremely light blonde hair, was dark red with sticky blood.
This had occurred two weeks ago. Lukas had, of course, questioned him non-stop, hugging him and kissing his forehead all the time.
Emil sighed as he opened the bathroom. He had about 30 minutes until Lukas would get home. He had to hurry.
Emil entered the bathroom, flicking on the light. He crouched next to the toilet, opening it. His index finger pointed at the ceiling, before entering his mouth and going far back and as close to the wall of his throat as possible. He gagged, and reflexively pulled out his finger. He repeated this process for about five minutes before he actually puked from the excessive gagging. The burning in his throat when he threw up was horrible. He couldn't hold back his tears as his now liquidated lunch and breakfast came up and out of his throat like a waterfall into the lake below. He wiped his mouth on his sleeve, and wiped away his tears with the back of his skinny, pale hand.
Emil suddenly had a feeling of confusion. No, not the "Why am I starving myself? I should stop." confusion. Actually, the exact opposite. 'Why don't I just do the better thing for everyone and kill myself? I'd be doing a favor for everyone. No one wants me here, all I do is trouble, burden, and worry the ones I love. I have no reason to stay.' Emil thought. He stood up shakily, opened the door to the hallway, and ran down that hallway until he arrived in a big room. The living room. He went to the closet that had coats, hats, gloves, and shoes. But most importantly. Tools. And rope. He hurriedly opened the closet, grabbing the rope. Once he had acquired the object, he ran into his room, not even bothering to close the closet door. He already had the lights in his room turned on, so he went straight to his desk and sat down in the wooden chair. Putting the rope down, Emil picked up a pen, and reached out for a piece of paper he had lying around. He then began writing, pouring out all of the feelings he had kept hidden for so long. All the things that were making him do this that he couldn't say to Lukas' face simply because doing so would push him past his breaking point to admit, making him do things worse than what he was about to do.
One finished writing, he put down his pen and read over everything he just wrote. He openly started to just cry. He cried for about five minutes, before realizing he didn't have much time before Lukas would come home. He picked up the rope, and dragged the chair over to where his ceiling fan was. He stood on the chair, tying the rope to the top piece of the device. He then made a loop with the rope and tied it with a tight knot. He pulled on the rope with all his weight, and smiled a sad, weak smile at the fact that the rope held.
He stood on the chair, putting his head in between the loop. He let out a shaky breath as his adrenaline kicked in, and he let out a scared whimper. 'I have to do this!' He thought. He put one leg on the upper side of the chair. "I'm so sorry, Lukas." He whispered, put his other leg on the chair, causing the chair to fall. He gasped as he felt the strain on his neck. He tried reaching his hands up to pull on the loop of the rope, but found that he couldn't move his hands. He was too weak.
He was dying.
He let out strained sobbing noises that almost didn't even sound human. He regretted this. The world soon turned into a blur. A swaying, dizzying blur. His eyelids, before long, couldn't even stay open from the weakness. One final tear rolled down his cheek as he suffocated.
He had succeeded.
Emil Steilsson was dead.
It had been ten minutes since Emil had passed when Lukas arrived home. He silently put down his bag, sighing. He really had a horrible day at his job, and just wanted to see his little brother's face. He walked into the kitchen, which was connected to the living room, and opened a cabinet, pulling out a light blue plastic cup. He filled the cup with tap water and drank. Once hydrated, Lukas went immediately towards the bathroom, to make sure Emil hadn't gagged himself again. He walked into the bathroom, and upon the discovery of the stench of puke and sight of puke, he sighed and rubbed his temples. He marched straight to Emil's room so he could hug and kiss the shit out of him. He needed to show him that he meant a lot to him, and that when he does this, it scares and upsets Lukas.
The door to Emil's room flew open as Lukas speed walked inside. "Emil, why the hell did you gag yourself agai-". That was all Lukas could say before he realized what he was seeing. Emil's desk chair was laying on the floor as if it had just walked over to the designated spot and toppled over. But that was far from the worst sight. Emil, his little brother whom he dedicated so much time to and loved so much, was hanging from a rope connected to the ceiling fan. Lukas ran over to his little brother, pushing up the chair and climbing on it. He undid the knot on the rope and lifted his brother up out of the loop and down into his arms. "Emil, don't fucking do this to me! Please!" His voice came out strained and cracked on the word 'please'. He lied Emil down on the floor and took out his phone, immediately hitting 'Emergency call' and calling the police.
It had been two weeks since the incident. Lukas knew Emil had probably left behind a note for him, but he didn't have the strength to go in there. Until today. He went into the room, that had remained the same for these past two weeks. Lukas walked over to Emil's desk, and saw a paper. He picked it up, and walked out of the room quickly. He went into the living room, and sat down on the couch nearest to the window, which had curtains that were closed currently. He readied himself for whatever he was about to read, before proceeding.
"Dear Lukas,
Emil here. You've probably found my dead body by now. I honestly don't know what to say about all this. You see, I love you. More than anyone in this world. I don't admit it though because it embarrasses me. I've always felt that I'm a burden to you. Despite your kind and comforting words, I didn't, nor could, stay strong. I'm sorry. I'd like to think that you're happy I'm gone. All I ever did was burden you and everyone around me. If I could redo this whole thing, I'd probably call you and tell you to get your ass home because I really don't want to go through with this. Oh god, I'm so scared right now. Part of me is telling myself to just do it already, and the other is telling me to hang on. Seeing as you're even reading this in the first place, we both know which option I chose. You know, I've never felt needed. I've always felt useless. My whole life. Every single day, it's always,"Why do you even try? What is your motivation?". I still can't answer either of those questions, and because I couldn't, I'm not here anymore. Lukas, please don't mourn over me. I'm not anything special. I never was.
I'm running out of room to write, now.
Lukas, please always remember that even though I'm no longer in this world, I am in Heaven. Or maybe I'm in Hell for killing myself, goddamnit, I don't know. Either way, I'm watching over you, and I'm always by your side. You call for me if you ever need help, and I'll try to somehow give you motivation and happiness. Have a great life, and don't think about me, because I'll have to slap the shit out of you if you ruin your life mourning over me of all people.
Anyways, thank you, Lukas. For all you've done for me. I love you.
See you later, I guess."
I'm ending this here because you are all going to murder me for writing this. Whoops.
