CHAPTER ONE
Disclaimer: I don't own Kuroshitsuji or Whisper by Evanescence
Catch me as I fall
Say you're here and it's all over now
Speaking to the atmosphere
No one's here and I fall into myself
This truth drives me
Into madness
I know I can stop the pain
If I will it all away
[Chorus:]
Don't turn away (Don't give in to the pain)
Don't try to hide (Though they're screaming your name)
Don't close your eyes (God knows what lies behind them)
Don't turn out the light (Never sleep never die)
-Whisper by Evanescence
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Grell sat on the floor of his bedroom, tears pouring down his face, glaring at his reflection in the full length mirror resentfully. How he hated himself. He was so ugly. It was no wonder William didn't love him. No wonder Sebastian couldn't stand him. He was so pitiful it was disgusting. Grell looked down, and then up once more at his awful reflection. 'I'm so gross,' He thought to himself. 'So disgusting. So… So…'
"Pitiful!" he whispered aloud.
The tears started flowing faster. He was so ashamed of himself. This was a side of himself he couldn't stand to show. This was what he hid behind his happy façade, his true self. The real Grell. He was really just a broken, lonely child on the inside. He needed someone to love and to love him in return. He needed companionship.
But no one could love such an awful creature. Grell couldn't take it anymore. Couldn't stand to see the ugly face in the mirror. His hand was flying before he even realized it was clenched. The impact of his fist hitting something solid broke him out of his daze, and he stared at the broken mirror. He was so angry with himself he didn't even notice the glass embedded in his hand until he flexed his fist. When he did realize it was there, he looked down at it in fascination. Pain filled his body and caught him off guard. The pain blocked out all of the bad feelings, the anger, the hurt, the resentment, and filled his body completely.
He sat there for a few seconds, until the high wore off and the bad feelings started to return. Grell was so tired of feeling awful, so tired of feeling at all. He pulled the glass out reveling in the pain that started throbbing in an offbeat rhythm with his heart. But he didn't want the pain to stop this time; he didn't want the feelings to come back again. So he took the shard of glass, rolled up his sleeve, and pushed it into his bare wrist. Grell hesitated for a second, and then moved the shard further up on his arm. He didn't want to die, not yet at least; he just wanted to stop feeling. So he made the decision and pushed. His skin parted easily and blood started to flow almost immediately. It felt so good he moved it up half an inch further and repeated the action. He didn't stop until his whole arm was covered in blood and there wasn't a single patch of clear skin.
Grell sat back against his bed, exhausted, and closed his eyes. He opened them ten minutes later to see blood still pouring out of the cuts. He was a Shinigami, so his body replaced blood faster than a human, but he was still losing too much blood. He tried to stand and go to the bathroom to bandage his arm, but his head spun and his knees gave out. "J'ai vraiment merde cette fois,*" he whispered to himself before he collapsed back onto the floor, unconscious.
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Grell woke the next morning feeling surprisingly refreshed. It appeared he hadn't had any nightmares or disturbing dreams, which was highly unusual. Usually he was up extremely late, and when he did manage to fall asleep, it was interrupted by horrible dreams. So to sleep uninterrupted was a rare treat. He wondered for a spilt second why he felt so good, but when he felt the dull pain throbbing in his arm, last night came rushing back.
Grell sat up so quick his head spun once again. He looked down at his arm and grimaced. His whole arm was covered in dried blood and there was a very large patch of semi-sticky blood surrounding his body and tangling his hair. Grell sighed as he stood up; leaning against the wall for a second as dizziness almost overcame him again, and headed for the bathroom to wash up. He turned the water in the shower on scalding and started to strip off his clothes. He had to carefully peel off the fabric of his shirt to avoid ripping the freshly formed scabs, as he didn't want to start bleeding again.
Once he was completely naked he hopped in the shower and started to roughly scrub his body. When he made his way up to his arm he slowed the movement of the washcloth and carefully started to wipe away the dried blood off his arm. Once all the blood was gone, he finally got a good look at the cuts now lining his arm. They were all very deep and kind of jagged. There seemed to be a total of twenty eight cuts running up from his wrist to his inner elbow. Grell cursed quietly, how the hell was he supposed to hide these? They were very deep and it looked as if the slightest knock would reopen them. He couldn't afford to have anyone notice bloodstains on his white dress shirt and it was too hot to wear his beautiful red coat everywhere.
But at the same time he couldn't afford to miss work. He was at a standstill. Eventually he just decided to deal with it. After all, he did do it to himself. Grell finished his shower rather quickly and stepped out, wrapping a towel around his waist. He quickly pulled on his undergarments and pants first, but decided to wait on a shirt for now, to let the cuts air out. While he was getting his make-up out of the medicine cabinet his hand brushed a thick roll of sterile gauze. An idea flickered through his brain, and he grabbed the gauze before grabbing his makeup.
Grell didn't really feel like himself that morning and his make-up choices reflected that. Instead of using thick, gaudy cover-up to cover the thin scar running down from below his right eye and angling slightly to curve around his jaw; that he got from a fight with Sebastian; he let it show. Gone were the stupid fake lashes and thick lines of bright red eyeliner, replaced by thin black lines to darken his eyelids and make his eyes look darker and exotic, and the thinnest brush of mascara to slightly elongate his lashes and make them a bit more noticeable. Instead of thick red lipstick, he just put the barest hint of lip-gloss on. Finally he brushed his hair back and placed it in a low ponytail at the back of his neck. After all the preparations were done he grabbed the gauze and went to sit on his bed.
Grell flinched as he looked at the cuts. They looked so bad, but he knew that now that he had started he wouldn't be able to stop. He meticulously wrapped the gauze around his arm and secured it with a piece of surgical tape. Once that was done he slipped his shirt and arm belts on. He threw on his red coat on top of it all, even though he knew he would remove it by 10:00 A.M., and was finally ready for the day. Sparing a quick glance at the clock, Grell realized that, for the first time since the academy, he wasn't going to be late. After quickly grabbing a razor sharp folding pocket knife and slipping in his pocket, just in case, he was out the door
French Translation;
*I really fucked up this time