A Knife to Slice
BY: Wolfa Moon
SUMMARY: Warning! Extreme turmoil. Ezra is alone in a world he can no longer live in.
Disclaimer: I do not own. I do not support suicide or self-harm. This is a work of fiction. Contents taking out of pretext are not my problem. Please enjoy and review.
A KNIFE TO SLICE
Ezra sat smoothly down onto the grass. It seemed he could melt into this spot. And by god he wanted to. The events of recent just made him want to fade away more. People only saw the surface. Never seeing the small child wanting to be accepted. No, they only saw the gambler. The con artist. Sighing he looked up to the heavens for answers. Never receiving one before so why now. So he bent his head to stare at the ground. The only place he would ever truly end up. Just as he is alone. Sure there are six men who have various opinions of him. And a town that talks behind his back.
A town whom turned their back on him. His facade finally breaking. He could handle only so much. But with no back up. What's the point?
Taking the only gift he ever received from the six. Vin had given him a knife. Since he never had one. His only true friend in the group. Thank god one good thing came out of this. He lifted the knife to his wrist. Let the blade shine light into his eyes. Maybe if he doesn't see it, he can do it.
Looking down the light moves from his eyes to see the blade had sliced through his shirt. His beautiful white shirt. A present he bought himself. The only one who ever gave him anything. Pressing down a little further. He felt the sharpness then the clarity. Such clarity. Moving the pressure away the fog of emotions came back. The noise growing in his ears. The names they called. The look, that certain tilt of the head. Wherever he goes, north, south, east, and west. It is universal. One Ezra Standish is not welcomed in this world.
Returning the blade to his skin he felt the pressure. Pain equal to clarity. He can see. The silence it brought. Finally peace.
Looking down the blood flowed. Streaming down his arm. Raining from his fingertips. No one to help him stop the flow. No one to worry about his life seeping out of his wounds. The earth mixed with his blood. From dust we come and dust we shall return.
Making a third strike across his arm. He smiles. For the first time in a long time he smiled. It felt alien upon his face. Then he laughed. A sound in the silence. So long forgotten he is able to actually make such a sound. It felt good in a sad way. Closing his eyes he feels the warmth of the sun. The river pouring out of him. A life unneeded. A life no one took interest in. Why should they?
He fell back onto the earth. Sinking in. This is a nice place. Visiting this place on many of his wasteless patrols. His space of serenity. Now his final resting place. Best place than no space. This is his. A man with nowhere to claim as his. Just to fade away. And he did. The sun soaking his skin. The breeze taking his breathes. And silence.
AKS
One would think that life simply ends when one wishes it to fade. Doing drastic measure in order for it to happen. Three deep slices of skin. Bleeding into the earth is not enough.
Sun gone from the sky. Dark moonlight lighting the ground. Life still in him. Sitting up he takes in the nighted world. Nothing much changes. Even him. He is still here. And now to head back and face the music. Music that grew louder with each step he took.
No surprise that no one came to search for him. The wave of dizziness not a bother. A welcomed friend. Maybe his time had come. Time to see what other part of the world will give him looks. Talk on the wind behind his back. Push him down further than he already is.
Climbing the small hill he pats his only won on a game of chance, his steed, his only ally. Snorting a welcome back.
"Sorry my friend. We will head back." Getting on he let Bucephalus pick his path toward town. A path that had become his river of Styx. The place holding no warmth. They say hell is fire and brimstone. No, hell is cold. It is a lake covered with thick ice that you can't break though. And you are captured under the surface. Ice water only to fill your lungs with each breath. Until your lungs fill up with the cold ice water. And then you sink. Sink deep to the frozen bottom. You won't feel yourself hit the bottom. For you would have stopped feeling anything half way down.
Town silent, Ezra stabled his horse. Then moved to his abode. The doors opening onto the sound of laughter, clanging of glasses, the air of smoke making life known to him. Life is such a waste. He spied his comrades at their normal table. Not a glance his way. Why did he bother? Heading up the stairs he enters his room. Not really his room. A room to be rented over and over again once vacated. And it shall be vacant soon. Grabbing his bag he began to fill it with his treasured possessions. Great kings of the past believed to be buried with there earnings. Well here goes the same for him. Ezra may not be the king. But he is the ace in the whole. Buried alive with the great king. Hiding in the corner with his own mementos to be cherished past his time. Into the next life.
Who cares about his first gift from his father? Now only a scrap of fur remains of the stuffed lion.
Who will touch parchment so old that the corners are no longer a perfect angles? A deck of cards given to a boy told to 'entertain yourself' and 'stay out of the way'. Always stay out of the way unless you're useful.
Who cares about the ribbon? A long piece of red velvet. Worn in places. A symbol of his one true love. Ezra plays with the ring on his finger. He remembered her. His love.
What will people make of the drawling? Mere scribbles on a bible pages. Only two colors. Yet it filled the good book. A welcome home gift for daddy. Yet daddy never got to receive it from his daughter. Having to find it when he scavenged through his house home after coming back form battle.
Would they remember her smile? Would they remember her laughter? He would as he closes his eyes. Remembering a time that he twirled her in the air. Making her fly like an angel.
Ezra looked at his treasure. Sure there is money. But that is all it is. Just money. Scraps of paper with legal ink marking it as worth. The scribble on the bible page worth more than any pot he won.
Time to move on.
Sleep first though.
AKS.
Banging on his door arose him. Moving a hand he felt the twang of soreness in the limb. Who cares? The dampness it leaves as he rubs his eyes to wake.
"Ezra we know you're in there." The voice called from the door. Of course where else would he be. Like they care. "Ezra?" the voice became low. A voice on the wind. A plea to fade in the crowd. "Come on Ez. We're havin a meeting and Chris says you gotta be there." Why not?"
"I will be there shortly." Why should he go at all? They don't care. Their behavior toward him making him a leper. Always on the outside. They don't care.
His arm soaked in blood. The wounds still oozing life. The only life he has.
Wrapping his arm in a section of the ruined shirt he places another on over. Appearances. Soon there would only be one final. One set of cloths for the rest of his days.
Coming down the stairs he sees the group of vigilantes. Not one turning to look at him. He could shot them all. Take some of them with him on his trip. Ezra is better than that. He would only take himself out of the equation. They deserve whatever comes to them.
"About time you got here." Chris bellowed. Ezra just moves to a spot to see what the new fuse is about. Words are pointless on Neanderthals. Even those a step above. Remaining silent he let their words flow on around him, past him, through even. Nothing really to listen too. Shipment. Money. Guard. Protect. You here. Them there. Words to flow unneeded unprocessed.
"You listening to me?" An angry Chris grabbed Ezra. Making the world flare in clarity. Without touch he is smoke to hover on the air. But touch he is stone. Bound to earth. Ezra gulped. Mouth so dry.
"Always Mr. Larabee." Chris looked deep into the greens. Not seeing anything. Yet his gut telling him to worry.
"Good." Releasing his hold, Ezra is smoke again. "You will take your post and you better do it now."
"No." finally he has their attention. "I shall not be doing as you say." A grumble roared to life. But he can ignore it. "I am going to depart. Away from here."
"What? Why?" sprung from some.
"Coward. No good gambler." Sang from other.
"And on those words ado." Ezra moved off. Yet yelped when a fierce grip turned him toward the eyes of the six.
"What the hell do you mean you leavin?"
"What part did you not understand? I am done with this place. And I am gone," Might as well tell them what he feels. Not like they care anyway. What is it; confession is good for the soul.
"That not good enough." Fine. Stepping back.
"I am through. Done being your black mark to be check on whenever you want to add another. I am not you personnel debaturey of when you want to make yourself feel better about yourself. Calling me names. Making comments. Fighting me in public eye so I am the least to be trusted. Eyes that I am suppose to protect. Well who protects me?" He paused. Silence befell the room. But this is not going to stop him. "I am sick and tired of your comments and abuse. Especially you lot. You say we work together. No there is no magnificent seven. There are six lawmen and the lone gambler. That is all I am to you, a con artist. You don't care. Except for you Vin. I hold you in higher regard then them but you still did not fight or help me. This unit is no such thing." Chris boiled at the words. Buck open mouthed. Josiah looking ashamed of no action. JD looking at there reactions. Nathan glared daggers. Vin trying to wrap his head around the gamblers words. "It would have been better to have died with them but whatever power made me live. Live this hell. For that is what this place has become. There is no warmth here for me. I lost that in the fire." He spoke too much. Gulping it back. "I am finished with your gang Mr. Larabee. Get yourself another cheat." Ezra turned and stormed off to his room. Leaving a pondering group of men behind.
AKS
"What just happen there?" Buck spoke.
"It seems that brother Standish has not been feeling the commoderity that we feel toward one another." Josiah said sitting down.
"Do you blame him?" JD spoke his mind. The voice of youth. "You guys speak nasty of him to his face and not just in private but in public. Rumors start and that he is what we made him."
"I don't blame him for wanting to leave. I just wish I saw it sooner. Especially since he took to hurting himself." Vin spoke. He had seen the red on the shirt cuff. Nathan looked up at Vin's words.
"I better get my stuff."
"What makes you think he wants your help?" Nathan stopped at Vin's words. Every one of them knew that Vin is the closest of them to Ezra except maybe JD. "We all have been placing all our sorrows on him. I guess with recent arguments it finally broke the horses back."
"Every man has a breaking point." Buck added his voice to the pot.
"So what are we going to do?" JD looked to his mentors. Chris sighed heavily. He is the leader of the pack. The others following by example except his beta, Vin. True Ezra remained on the outside of their group. A lone wolf amongst the pack. Didn't any one of them make him feel welcome? No they didn't. And he is the most to blame.
"We'll fix it." They had too. Ezra is a part of them. Even through fog of whatever bothers them blocks their eyes from seeing what they are truly doing. They had to make amends. They needed their pack mate. Even if they didn't realize it till now.
AKS
Ezra breathed in the air of his serenity. His treasures under his head. Cushioning them from the earth moist coolness. He had spoken his piece. There isn't any other place to go. He is tired. Sure Maude would have words. But they would pass into the river of fake tears she always had flowing. Time to end this torture. Looking to the sky. Maybe soon he would be with his loves.
Dragging the knife from his inner elbow down to his wrist. One down. Moving clumsily with the other he makes another mark. But he can't finish. This will have to do. Bloods flows. Tears flow. Not in pain. But in the clearness of what he is doing. He is releasing himself from this mortal coil of pain and turmoil. No longer able to deal with this maelstrom. This will end it. He will finally have peace.
CHAPTER 1
A/N: the next chapter will be shorts. But all together a good story. I felt funky when I wrote this. Now I'm better so I don't know what will happen.
REVIEWS REQUIRED.