Contest: Angelic Destiny - Voltress.net

Title: Release

Author: JessiBluEyes

Rating: R for language, self-mutilation, suicide

*

            A cut of the wrist. A tinge of pain. A sigh of relief. A drop of blood.

            He slid to the bathroom floor, holding the razor blade to his wrist. Normal people would say that it hurt, but all he felt was a calming sense of relief. No more emotional pain. Relief from his worries. Relief from the life he hated. His life.

            Cool metal opened warm flesh as he cut himself a second time, this time going deeper.

            He bit his lip to keep from crying. Crying showed weakness, and he was anything but weak.

            Crimson blood seeped from the wound.

            His hand and fingers felt numb, but he didn't care. He began to feel dizzy, but he didn't care. More blood began to come, but he didn't care.

            He had finally cut himself deep enough, and now it was over. Finally over.

            That's all he cared about.

*

            The bright afternoon sun caused the still water of the fountain to shimmer. Zell Dincht squinted at the glare and put a hand over his eyes, smiling at the colored dots that danced in the darkness of his eyelids. He stood like that for a few moments before dropping his hand and walking away from the fountain. He continued walking along the man-made path of the park until he decided he needed an adventure and strayed from the asphalt.

            He found himself surrounded by tall trees in the woods, where the sun sprinkled through the leaves and branches. He was admiring nature's beauty when his bright blue eyes fell on a figure, sitting on a fallen tree.

            Zell frowned, wondering why someone would just be sitting there, shoulders slumped as if he were depressed. He shrugged and walked to the young man, taking a seat beside him on the log. "Whatcha doin' all the way out here?"

            The pale man turned and looked at the intruder, shooting a menacing glare. "What do you think I'm doing?"

            Zell grinned despite the other boy's harsh tone. "Ouch. It's the middle of summer, and you're still able to make icicles."

            "Whatever."

            "Are ya just bein' one with nature or somethin'?"

            He made no reply, just gazed off into the deepness of the woods.

            "Feel free to answer that question." Zell raised his honey-colored eyebrows at his new acquaintance. "You're the quiet type, huh? That's cool, 'cause I like to talk. Maybe we could be friends." He paused and waited for a reply. When he got nothing, he continued, "I'm Zell Dincht." Zell held out a hand for him to shake. Again, he got nothing. "What's your name?"

            There was a quiet sigh, and then, "Squall."

            "Cool. I got ya to speak!" Zell grinned a toothy grin. "Whatcha thinkin' 'bout?"

            "Nothing."

            The blonde gave him a doubtful look. "Come on! Ya gotta be thinkin' about somethin'. Like how good looking that Marcus model dude is."

            A hint of a smile.

            Zell blushed. "I mean…"

            "Don't worry about it."

            "'K. Hey, ya wanna walk with me?"

            Squall was silent.

            "Okay, you're gonna have to answer that one or else ya ain't gettin' rid of me." He stood and looked down at the brooding brunette.

            Squall shrugged his thin shoulders. "Sure."

*

            The pair ended up walking around the path three times. Zell talked most of the time, and if he got lucky, he got small responses from his companion. But that was only if he got lucky.

            When Zell heard Squall's stomach growl, he decided it was time for a bite to eat. "Ya wanna go get some lunch?"

            "Whatever."

            Zell chuckled. "I'm lovin' that broad vocabulary you got there."

            There was a flicker of amusement in Squall's gray eyes. "Lunch would be nice."

            So the two had lunch at a small café in town. Zell rambled on about sports (The Esthar Eagles had won that playoff game) and his hobbies (He enjoyed drawing and painting; he was even thinking about selling some of his works.) Squall was quiet, seemingly listening, but in all actuality, he wasn't. He kept dazing in and out, thinking about different things, mainly the thing that haunted him the most. His mistake.

            The afternoon turned into evening, and then the evening gave way to darkness. They had spent all day together, and Zell considered Squall to be his best friend.

            "It's getting late," Squall said quietly, looking up at the velvet sky.

            "Ya wanna crash at my place? I got plenty o' room, and it wouldn't be a problem or anything," Zell said, hoping he didn't sound too desperate. He just liked spending time with him. Though he didn't have much to say, when Squall did speak, it was something meaningful. "Maybe we can hang out tomorrow, too."

            Squall actually smiled, a broad, amused smile. "Like spending time with me, don't you?"

            A light blush covered Zell's cheeks. "Yeah, I do."

            "You wouldn't mind me sleeping over?"

            Zell's eyes lit up. "Nah! Of course not."

            "You'll make me sleep on the couch?"

            "I can sleep on the couch, you can sleep in my bed."

            Squall shook his head. "I don't want to intrude or anything…"

            Squall ended up sleeping in Zell's bed as Zell dozed peacefully on his couch.

*

            The next morning brought cheerful birds that chirped happily and a bright sun that blazed in the cloudless sky.

            Squall awoke a little after noon to the aroma of pancakes. He rubbed his tired eyes, trying to remember where he was. He climbed out of bed and ventured through the unknown apartment, suddenly finding himself in the kitchen, where a topless Zell sang a song about aerials in the sky and flipped pancakes at the stove.

            He saw Squall and smiled. "Good afternoon!"

            "Afternoon?" Squall glanced at a clock, seeing that it was 12:04. "Guess I slept in kinda late," he said apologetically.

            "Aw, don't sweat it. I slept in kinda late, too. I hope ya like pancakes. Ma used to make 'em all the time when I was younger. The blueberry kind was the best, but these are just regular. I hope you like 'em."

            Squall smiled as Zell spoke and nodded. "Anything I can do?"

            "Um, ya can get the syrup and butter from the 'fridge. Right there on the door." Zell nodded with his head, keeping his hands busy with the skillet.

            The brunette did as told and asked where the plates were.

            Again, Zell used his head. "Right in that cabinet." He skillfully flipped a perfect pancake over. "Bee-you-tiful," he exclaimed.

            Squall laughed and put the plates on the counter beside the stove.

            "Thanks." Zell picked up a pancake and put it on the plate. "First one's yours."

            Squall knew there was no use in arguing so he nodded and waited as Zell continued to pile pancakes onto the plate. When he was finished, they went to the small dining room table and sat down, beginning to eat in a comfortable silence.

            After awhile, Squall began to get fidgety, knowing it was almost time for him to carry out his plan. He suddenly looked up at Zell and asked a question that was bothering him, "How do you feel about life?"

            Zell, caught off by the abrupt question, gave him a curious look. "What do you mean?"

            Squall knew he shouldn't have asked. He was about to get himself into something he'd rather not be in. "Never mind."

            "No. You have my full attention. Whatcha wanna talk about?"

            "Life."

            "What about it?" Zell asked.

            "What makes your life worth living?"

            Zell leaned back in his chair and chewed thoughtfully on his bottom lip. "Well… A lot of different things, I s'pose." He was quiet for a moment, briefly wondering why they were getting into this conversation. "It has so many possibilities. So many great things."

            "Like what?" Squall inquired doubtfully.

            "Like all the things you can do with your life. Everyone has a purpose. We're all here for a different reason."

            "I don't think I have a purpose," Squall admitted.

            "Of course ya do!" Zell said. "Everyone does."

            "What is my purpose then? Why am I here?"

            "I can't answer that, because I don't know, but I do know that you have a purpose."

            "I doubt it. The world would be better off without me."

            "How can you say that? This world is what it is because you're in it."

            Squall shrugged and got quiet. This was one conversation he did not want to have. Life depressed him, and he hated it. The only thing good about it was the time he spent hurting himself; when all his depression gave way to physical pain, and nothing else mattered except that moment when he was slicing his wrists.

            Zell cautiously asked, "You're not suicidal, are you?"

            Squall nodded without knowing it. But he realized he wasn't exactly suicidal, considering he was already….

            "Why?"

            "Different reasons," Squall replied softly.

            "Want to talk about it?"

            Squall noticed that Zell's voice had taken on a serious tone. "We don't have to."

            "I want to. What's so bad about your life that makes you want to end it?"

            "The fact that it's not worth living."

            "It's not worth living? Why do you say that?" Zell asked.

            "There's always so much pain, so much heartache. Death has to be better than what I'm feeling now."

            "But for every ounce of pain, there's ten ounces of happiness," Zell told him. "Sure, we all have our bad days, but it always gets better."

            Squall scoffed. "That's easy for you to say. You haven't been through half the shit I've been through."

            Zell wouldn't say it, but he was beginning to get frustrated. Actually, annoyed. "Isn't there something that makes you happy?"

            "No," Squall lied.

            "Dude, there has to be somethin'."

            Squall shook his head. "I can't tell you because you wouldn't understand."

            "Why not? I might."

            "I doubt it." He sighed and pushed his plate of uneaten pancakes aside. There was something he needed to do. Needed to get it over with.

            "Life is worth living. You might not know it now, but it is worth it. All the pain you go through will only make you stronger. You can't let it bring you down. Fight that pain. It's a tough battle, but you can win. Everyone can win.

            "I don't know what to tell you to help you, because I don't understand what you're going through. Just remember that things get better, and suicide isn't the answer." Zell held Squall's gaze, showing the other boy that he cared. "If you think the world would be a better place without you, you're wrong. In just the short time that I've known you, you've made my world a better place, and as corny as that sounds, it's the truth." He let silence fall, continuing to hold Squall's eyes. He waited to see if he had anything to say.

            Squall only shrugged and broke eye contact. What Zell was saying made sense, but Squall didn't want to admit that to himself. He'd be selfish to think he was worth something. No one cared about him. His only purpose was to watch out for other people. It would be wrong to only look out for himself. And lately, he was getting tired of watching out for other people. That's why he wanted to die. No more worries. No more pain. No more anything. Just relief.

            He needed to find that relief. He had had enough, and he wanted out. "There's something I need to do. Can I use your restroom?"

            Zell nodded but gave his friend a suspicious look. "Do you need anything?"

            A razor, Squall thought with an inner, sadistic smile. "No, I'm fine. But do you have a pair of scissors? I have this loose thread on the inside of my shirt. It's bothering me."

            Zell smiled. "Yeah. They're in the left drawer in my bathroom."

            "Thanks." Squall stood and left for the bathroom, closing the door behind him. He opened the drawer and began to shuffle through the different odds and ends, looking for his help. He found what he was searching for. He wrapped his pale fingers around the razor. He could almost feel that relief. He held out his wrist and sliced into the skin, immediately getting blood to ooze from the cut. He smiled and cut deeper. Relief. Relief. Relief.

            Blood continued to pour from the opening, and he cut again, feeling the sharp edge cut deeper into his flesh. He had cut deep enough that he could almost feel the blade brush against his bone. Squall began to feel dizzy. He sat down on the floor, holding the bleeding wrist with his free hand. The razor fell from his grasp and hit the floor with a mocking clank.

            He cursed himself for making noise and prayed Zell hadn't heard.

            He had, and he was knocking on the other side of the door. "Squall, are you okay?"

            Squall cleared his throat and tried to keep his voice normal as he said, "Yeah. Just dropped the scissors." His feeling of dizziness climbed, and he felt faint.

            "Are you sure?"

            Squall fell silent as his world began to grow dim. He coughed and tried to speak, but no sound came out.

            "Squall?" Zell's voice was filled with worry. He wondered what Squall was doing. He knocked one last time and said, "I'm coming in."

            Squall wanted to kick himself for not locking the door. He watched the doorknob turn, Zell enter and gasp, and then his wrists dropped to his side as leaned his head back and closed his eyes, letting Death take over. Squall was dead.

            Zell stood gaping for a moment, sadness etching onto his face. He stooped down beside Squall's limp body. "Squall?"

            Of course there was no answer.

            Zell felt tears prick the corner of his eyes, and he swallowed the hurting lump in his throat. "Squall?" He sat down beside his body and held the bleeding wrist. "Squall?" His voice was shaky. He didn't want to believe that his friend was really gone. How could he have let him do this? Was it his fault for not giving Squall a better answer to his question about life? Zell's blue eyes surrendered to tears as he sat gazing at Squall's lifeless body. No, Squall wasn't really dead. He was alive. Just passed out. Zell tried to convince himself that Squall was still living, but in the back of his mind, he knew. He knew. Squall was gone. Dead.

            "Zell?" That was Squall's voice!

            Zell's eyes widened as he looked at Squall's mouth. Had he really spoken? He was alive? "S-Squall?"

            A light chuckle. "Yeah."

            Zell looked around the bathroom and found an airy looking Squall sitting on the edge of the bathtub. "Hyne… Squall?"

            "I killed myself," Squall said simply, shrugging his shoulders as if it were nothing.

            "Yeah… I, uh, I know. But how can you be here now?"

            Squall took in a deep breath, knowing he had a lot of explaining to do. "It's a long story."

            Zell looked at the dead Squall beside him and turned back to the 'alive' Squall. "I think I have time."

            Squall nodded and began, "Six years ago, when I was eighteen, my life was too hard, and I couldn't handle it anymore. I ended up committing suicide. Death seemed like the only way out. I had already been cutting myself, but one night, I finally went deep enough. I ended it all. All my pain and suffering. It was over.

            "I guess as punishment or whatever, I'm forced to do the same thing every year on the anniversary that I killed myself. I have to do it or else I'll be sent to Hell. I have to do this cycle until I learn that suicide isn't the answer." Squall paused and sighed. "And now I know."

            Zell's face took on a confused expression. "You know that suicide isn't the answer?"

            Squall nodded. "You helped me realize that. When you talked to me. That's why I asked you what you thought about life. I thought that maybe you could tell me something that would help me realize what I needed to know. I had to do this one last time, and now I'm released. Thank you."

            Zell could only shake his head, thoroughly awed. "This is pretty fucked up."

            The spirit laughed a light laugh. "You're telling me."

            "Now you're at peace or whatever?" Zell asked curiously.

            "Yeah. Because of you. Thank you." Squall smiled at his 'savior' and reached out to touch his cheek.

            Zell closed his eyes at the feathery almost ticklish touch. "What happens now?"

            "I honestly don't know," was the simple reply. "But, um, I'd like to give you something."

            The blonde opened his eyes and looked up into Squall's slate gray ones. "Why?"

            "Because." He unhooked the lion pendent around his neck and looked at it evenly before handing it to Zell. "The lion represents strength and courage. That's what you are; strength and courage. Strength, because you fight your own battles. Courage, because you're not afraid of those battles."

            "I don't want to take it from you," Zell objected, holding it out to give it back.

            "I want you to have it. Remember me." He smiled. "Thank you." And then he vanished into nothing.

            Zell sat there for a moment, a surprised look sketched onto his boyish features. He had released Squall from his cycle. Wondering if that was a good thing, he held the necklace at eye level. The lion's diamond eye sparkled in the light.

            He turned to where Squall's body should have been, but it was gone. Zell blinked and shook his head. I'm going crazy.

            The blonde sat there for a little while longer, just thinking. Thinking about what, he wasn't sure. He was thinking about what all had happened. He had released someone from a hellish cycle. And he was thankful for the friend he had made. Now it was over, and he could live on. Live for Squall. Live for himself. But mainly, live for Squall. Live the life Squall never got to live. Make himself worth something, for Squall.

~end~