Lose Control
By G.H.
A/N: You like Shawn angst? I like Shawn angst. It's gooood. :) The song is called "papercut", and it's by Linkin Park. Takes place right after the Shawn karaoke incident in Season 6's 'Cutting the Cord'.
Lose Control
By G.H.
Why does it feel like night today?
Something in here's not right today...
Why am I so uptight today?
Paranoia's all I got left.
I don't know what stressed me first
Or how the pressure was fed but
I know just what it feels like
To have a voice in the back of my head.
You don't know it, but when I was living with my teacher, and at that time, guardian, I saw a psychiatrist. What got me in there? Well...after my dad pretty much ditched me without really any warning, I started to wonder who else would leave me, who would be the next to just leave me alone without any regard? Over the following weeks I somehow managed to convince myself that somehow it was my fault and that I was the one who made them go away. The fact of ending my life, to no longer being a burden, sounded great. Jon wouldn't have had to take care of me anymore, I wouldn't drag Cory down with me, and Dad wouldn't have a guilty conscience because of leaving me. I told myself that so many times that it was starting to sound like a good idea.
I don't know what stressed me first
Or how the pressure was fed but
I know just what it feels like
To have a voice in the back of my head
It's like a face that I hold inside
A face that awakes when I close my eyes
A face watches every time I lie
A face that laughs every time I fall
(And watches everything)
So I did it, I tried to kill myself, albiet I didn't get very far. I had the razor, I had my arm, it was so simple. Good old Jon decided to walk in the room the moment I put that sharp edge into my vain. He ran over and grabbed it from me, chucking it across the room and yelling at me. He asked why I could ever do that, and I told him the truth, what I just told you. Cory never found out about it, and neither did Dad. I think it was better that way. Jon scheduled me to go to a psychiatrist, and I did faithfully for 6 more months, until my Dad came back. Nobody but me and him knew that story, at least until now. Didn't you ever wonder why me and Jon were so close later on? He helped me so much.
So I know that when it's time to sink or swim
That the face inside is hearing me / right beneath my skin
It's like I'm paranoid lookin' over my back
It's like a whirlwind inside of my head
It's like I can't stop what I'm hearing within
It's like the face inside is right beneath my skin
I know I've got a face in me
points out all the mistakes to me
You've got a face on the inside too and
Your paranoia's probably worse
I think they did actually heal me for a while. You know, make me better. I remember that it was Senior year when I started the cutting. Yeah, now I know, it was Cory and Topanga's breakup that started it. It started when I went home to sulk and curse my inability to mend one of the greatest things in my friends' lives. I thought back, all the way to Four years ago (Five, now) and how I felt that I was justifying a crime. My own crime. Getting the razor was the easy part, getting up the nerve to use it was suprisingly hard. Forcing the logical voice to the back of my head, I rushed into the bathroom and made shallow, flowing cuts along the paler side of my left arm. You may never know how much joy I found when I let the deep crimson liquid roll in small streams down my arms, onto the green tile floor.
I don't know what set me off first but I know what I can't stand
Everybody acts like the fact of the matter is
I can't add up to what you can but
Everybody has a face that they hold inside
A face that awakes when they close their eyes
A face watches every time they lie
A face that laughs every time they fall
(And watches everything)
The next year was very educational for me. I learned that family members and friends come and go, Roomates are an ever changing thing, and no matter what, Love never dies. I loved her, I really did. But, I'm Shawn Hunter, and I'm very well known for fucking things up all the time. What kind of Girl wants to go out with a self-mutilating freak like me? A few months ago I finally got up the nerve to call one of those teenage help lines. I told them I was a cutter and needed someone to talk to, it was a help line and therefore free, anonymous, and a one-time thing, so they put me on the phone with Dr. Sheipenbrok. She asked me if the reason I cut myself was because of bad memories, afterall, that's just what people naturally presume. I laughed and told her she couldn't be more wrong. At that point I was cutting only because it felt good. I got...almost...high off the pain and smell of blood in the air. She sounded geniunely concerned, and asked for my name, feeling offended, I stupidly lashed out and hung up. She probably had better things to do than just sit around and talk to someone like me whine.
So you know that when it's time to sink or swim
That the face inside is watching you too / right inside your skin
It's like I'm paranoid lookin' over my back
It's like a whirlwind inside of my head
It's like I can't stop what I'm hearing within
It's like the face inside is right beneath my skin
It's like I'm paranoid lookin' over my back
It's like a whirlwind inside of my head
It's like I can't stop what I'm hearing within
It's like the face inside is right beneath my skin
This is it. I've just had it with the world. I've been taught since I was a child that if you commit suicide, you go to Hell. But I have to ask, God. Why can't you see me, I'm suffering! This is horrible. I'm surrounded by friends and loved ones, but I just can't be happy. Why won't you let me be happy? What did I do wrong? I really am curious to see what the afterlife looks like....Wherever I go. After yesterday, everything has become just too much. I don't want to sound like your typical angst-ridden teen, but I can't help it. Angela will never love me again, despite how much I love her. Please God, don't let her walk in to find me dead. She doesn't deserve that. I don't want to make her anymore saddened than I have already.
The face inside is right beneath my skin
The face inside is right beneath my skin
The face inside is right beneath my skin
The sun goes down
I feel the light betray me
The sun goes down
I feel the light betray me
Because cutting didn't work the last time, I'm not much for slow painful deaths, and I'd rather not cover everything in blood, I've decided to kill myself in a realtivley painless, clean, and quiet manner. Cory's out having a date with Topanga, Angela doesn't want to see me, and everyone else has other, more important issues in their lives. Rummaging through Cory's medical stash, I find a wide assortment of pills, ranging from Allegra to Tums. Deciding on the Tylenol, I sit here, pouring half of the bottle into my hands and swallowing them all. Will you miss me, I wonder? Of course you will. Afterall, that's only the way we all act. But...I didn't make much of an impact of any of you, I don't think. I love you all, thanks for helping me through tough times. You never really suceeded, but no ones ever has. In the end, I know that it's my fault. I've accepted that it's always and forever going to be my fault.
Goodbye,
Shawn
It's like I'm paranoid lookin' over my back
It's like a whirlwind inside of my head
It's like I can't stop what I'm hearing within
I feel the light betray me
It's like I can't stop what I'm hearing within
It's like I can't stop what I'm hearing within
Cory Matthews sat on the edge of Shawn's bed, reading the note over and over again, not really believing. But one look at his dead friend's pale hands and unmoving chest, brought the reality home. And so it was, that at 11:30pm, on a long, cold night, Cory sat alone, drenching Shawn's note in tears, while laying next to his best friend in the world, praying silently for this all to be a horrible dream.
The End.
By G.H.
A/N: You like Shawn angst? I like Shawn angst. It's gooood. :) The song is called "papercut", and it's by Linkin Park. Takes place right after the Shawn karaoke incident in Season 6's 'Cutting the Cord'.
Lose Control
By G.H.
Why does it feel like night today?
Something in here's not right today...
Why am I so uptight today?
Paranoia's all I got left.
I don't know what stressed me first
Or how the pressure was fed but
I know just what it feels like
To have a voice in the back of my head.
You don't know it, but when I was living with my teacher, and at that time, guardian, I saw a psychiatrist. What got me in there? Well...after my dad pretty much ditched me without really any warning, I started to wonder who else would leave me, who would be the next to just leave me alone without any regard? Over the following weeks I somehow managed to convince myself that somehow it was my fault and that I was the one who made them go away. The fact of ending my life, to no longer being a burden, sounded great. Jon wouldn't have had to take care of me anymore, I wouldn't drag Cory down with me, and Dad wouldn't have a guilty conscience because of leaving me. I told myself that so many times that it was starting to sound like a good idea.
I don't know what stressed me first
Or how the pressure was fed but
I know just what it feels like
To have a voice in the back of my head
It's like a face that I hold inside
A face that awakes when I close my eyes
A face watches every time I lie
A face that laughs every time I fall
(And watches everything)
So I did it, I tried to kill myself, albiet I didn't get very far. I had the razor, I had my arm, it was so simple. Good old Jon decided to walk in the room the moment I put that sharp edge into my vain. He ran over and grabbed it from me, chucking it across the room and yelling at me. He asked why I could ever do that, and I told him the truth, what I just told you. Cory never found out about it, and neither did Dad. I think it was better that way. Jon scheduled me to go to a psychiatrist, and I did faithfully for 6 more months, until my Dad came back. Nobody but me and him knew that story, at least until now. Didn't you ever wonder why me and Jon were so close later on? He helped me so much.
So I know that when it's time to sink or swim
That the face inside is hearing me / right beneath my skin
It's like I'm paranoid lookin' over my back
It's like a whirlwind inside of my head
It's like I can't stop what I'm hearing within
It's like the face inside is right beneath my skin
I know I've got a face in me
points out all the mistakes to me
You've got a face on the inside too and
Your paranoia's probably worse
I think they did actually heal me for a while. You know, make me better. I remember that it was Senior year when I started the cutting. Yeah, now I know, it was Cory and Topanga's breakup that started it. It started when I went home to sulk and curse my inability to mend one of the greatest things in my friends' lives. I thought back, all the way to Four years ago (Five, now) and how I felt that I was justifying a crime. My own crime. Getting the razor was the easy part, getting up the nerve to use it was suprisingly hard. Forcing the logical voice to the back of my head, I rushed into the bathroom and made shallow, flowing cuts along the paler side of my left arm. You may never know how much joy I found when I let the deep crimson liquid roll in small streams down my arms, onto the green tile floor.
I don't know what set me off first but I know what I can't stand
Everybody acts like the fact of the matter is
I can't add up to what you can but
Everybody has a face that they hold inside
A face that awakes when they close their eyes
A face watches every time they lie
A face that laughs every time they fall
(And watches everything)
The next year was very educational for me. I learned that family members and friends come and go, Roomates are an ever changing thing, and no matter what, Love never dies. I loved her, I really did. But, I'm Shawn Hunter, and I'm very well known for fucking things up all the time. What kind of Girl wants to go out with a self-mutilating freak like me? A few months ago I finally got up the nerve to call one of those teenage help lines. I told them I was a cutter and needed someone to talk to, it was a help line and therefore free, anonymous, and a one-time thing, so they put me on the phone with Dr. Sheipenbrok. She asked me if the reason I cut myself was because of bad memories, afterall, that's just what people naturally presume. I laughed and told her she couldn't be more wrong. At that point I was cutting only because it felt good. I got...almost...high off the pain and smell of blood in the air. She sounded geniunely concerned, and asked for my name, feeling offended, I stupidly lashed out and hung up. She probably had better things to do than just sit around and talk to someone like me whine.
So you know that when it's time to sink or swim
That the face inside is watching you too / right inside your skin
It's like I'm paranoid lookin' over my back
It's like a whirlwind inside of my head
It's like I can't stop what I'm hearing within
It's like the face inside is right beneath my skin
It's like I'm paranoid lookin' over my back
It's like a whirlwind inside of my head
It's like I can't stop what I'm hearing within
It's like the face inside is right beneath my skin
This is it. I've just had it with the world. I've been taught since I was a child that if you commit suicide, you go to Hell. But I have to ask, God. Why can't you see me, I'm suffering! This is horrible. I'm surrounded by friends and loved ones, but I just can't be happy. Why won't you let me be happy? What did I do wrong? I really am curious to see what the afterlife looks like....Wherever I go. After yesterday, everything has become just too much. I don't want to sound like your typical angst-ridden teen, but I can't help it. Angela will never love me again, despite how much I love her. Please God, don't let her walk in to find me dead. She doesn't deserve that. I don't want to make her anymore saddened than I have already.
The face inside is right beneath my skin
The face inside is right beneath my skin
The face inside is right beneath my skin
The sun goes down
I feel the light betray me
The sun goes down
I feel the light betray me
Because cutting didn't work the last time, I'm not much for slow painful deaths, and I'd rather not cover everything in blood, I've decided to kill myself in a realtivley painless, clean, and quiet manner. Cory's out having a date with Topanga, Angela doesn't want to see me, and everyone else has other, more important issues in their lives. Rummaging through Cory's medical stash, I find a wide assortment of pills, ranging from Allegra to Tums. Deciding on the Tylenol, I sit here, pouring half of the bottle into my hands and swallowing them all. Will you miss me, I wonder? Of course you will. Afterall, that's only the way we all act. But...I didn't make much of an impact of any of you, I don't think. I love you all, thanks for helping me through tough times. You never really suceeded, but no ones ever has. In the end, I know that it's my fault. I've accepted that it's always and forever going to be my fault.
Goodbye,
Shawn
It's like I'm paranoid lookin' over my back
It's like a whirlwind inside of my head
It's like I can't stop what I'm hearing within
I feel the light betray me
It's like I can't stop what I'm hearing within
It's like I can't stop what I'm hearing within
Cory Matthews sat on the edge of Shawn's bed, reading the note over and over again, not really believing. But one look at his dead friend's pale hands and unmoving chest, brought the reality home. And so it was, that at 11:30pm, on a long, cold night, Cory sat alone, drenching Shawn's note in tears, while laying next to his best friend in the world, praying silently for this all to be a horrible dream.
The End.