Title: Falling Apart

Song: Last Resort by PAPA ROACH

By: Cloie Dark a.k.a. Alpha Omega

Disclaimer: de characters belong to dere rightful owners not me!

//CUT MY LIFE INTO PIECES

I'VE REACHED MY LAST RESORT

SUFFOCATION, NO BREATHING//

I guess the guys haven't noticed that my behavior/attitude is nothing but a mask, one that I've become very used to. It's so easy to put on my 'I'm all innocent' facade, so easy I guess that I've lost sight of the real me. I guess nobody's really noticed that it's all fake.

//DON'T GIVE A FUCK IF I CUT MY ARM BLEEDING

DO YOU EVEN CARE IF I DIE BLEEDING

WOULD IT BE WRONG, WOULD IT BE RIGHT//

On the outside it may look like I'm cool and collective, but inside I'm all mixed up. My emotions are getting all torn up. They wouldn't understand, I can't tell them. I'm supposed to be all innocent, the one who can still feel guilty and break down to cry. I guess I'm getting sick of being treated like a doll. I can take care of myself; I don't need someone to give up their life for me. Hell I'm not worth it.

//IF I TOOK MY LIFE TONIGHT,

CHANCES ARE THAT I MIGHT

MUTILATION OUT OF SIGHT

AND I'M CONTEMPLATING SUICIDE//

Walking through the halls in the mansion I'd put on my mask. So nobody would look past the surface to see all the pain I've concealed. I'm getting to my breaking point, were I'm always contemplating my worth. I Actually wonder what would happen if I just slit my wrists.

//'CAUSE I'M LOSING MY SIGHT, LOSING MY MIND

WISH SOMEBODY WOULD TELL ME I'M FINE

NOTHING'S ALRIGHT, NOTHING IS FINE

I'M RUNNING AND I'M CRYING//

It's about midnight and I'm sitting on the floor in my bedroom with a half empty bottle of tequila; staring at a shiny knife I'd 'borrowed' from Trowa. I think I locked the door, but I can't really remember cause of all the alcohol I've had. I picked up the knife and started twirling it, watching the moonlight glint off it.

//I NEVER REALIZED I WAS SPREAD TOO THIN

TILL IT WAS TOO LATE AND I WAS EMPTY WITHIN

HUNGRY, FEEDING ON CHAOS AND LIVING IN SIN//

I started to smirk when I thought about how the guys would react if they saw me right now. Then I started giggling when I thought about how my sister's faces would look if they found me like this. With those thoughts trailing off, and snickering slightly, I let the point of the knife drop from my one hand and rest on the wooden floor. Then with a lot of deliberation I started carving a saying into the floor that Duo used sometimes. 'Life's a Bitch, Then you Die.' Perfect saying for how I feel at the moment.

//DOWNWARD SPIRAL, WHERE DO I BEGIN

IT ALL STARTED WHEN I LOST MY MOTHER

NO LOVE FOR MYSELF AND NO LOVE FOR ANOTHER//

So what if I slit my wrist, there're still four other pilots and one of my sisters can take over my dad's job. I sure as hell don't want it. It's not like I've got a hell of a lot to look forward to in life. After the war I'd be stuck in an office within my own home buried underneath tons of stupid papers.

//SEARCHING TO FIND A LOVE UPON A HIGHER LEVEL

FINDING NOTHING BUT QUESTIONS AND DEVILS

I CAN'T GO ON LIVING THIS WAY//

Holding the knife in my right hand I let the edge rest against my left wrist. Tilting my head to the side I looked at the door thinking I had heard something. Nope just the alcohol and my imagination playing tricks on me. Turning my attention back to the knife, I put some pressure on it and slid it across my wrist. Sitting there on the floor I watched as the blood welled up and spilled off of my wrist making a new design on the floorboards. I don't really know what was happening on the other side of my door, but I think I heard someone run into it. 'Oh well.' was all I could think as my eyes dropped and I slumped to the floor knocking the tequila bottle over with my hand. The last thing I thought before it went black was 'This is gonna be a bitch to clean up.'

~owari~

CloieDark: okay people you decide, do you want a sequel or not? and if so which song should i use. and don't flame me this is only muh second song fic i've written. kinda gloomy huh?