Author's Note: This is obviously my first ever story on the site, but it's also the first story I ever really did. So apologies for the fact that it's quite short and probably not very good. -Also, the only reason this is in Anime / Manga is because there's nowhere else to put it. Sorry if it was misleading at all. Review's appreciated. :3
Rescue Me.
"Get the outta here, you fuckin' faggot!" A loud voice boomed from the living room, a place that was usually so quiet, thanks to the help of a long night of drowning sorrows in whiskey and vodka. It was the voice of a man called Mike Peters. He was a short, fat man. A man with white hair, yellow teeth, and a receding hairline. He'd make no effort whatsoever to make himself presentable. He smelled strongly of cheap alcohol and cigarettes from countless nights at the bars, spending his last pennies on strippers and lap-dances. Mike had never had any luck with women. Even he couldn't remember how many had come and go. He'd had his share, loved them and left them. Until one. Lindsey, her name was. They were together for 5 years. Bought a house, a car, had a kid. Until one day, she came home from work to find him in bed with her sister. That day, she packed her bags and left, leaving their then four year old son, Zack, behind with him. That was the day that everything went wrong.
Mike's hand collided with Zack's face in a drunken slur, striking him with considerable force. The fourteen year old boy fell to the floor in a bloodied and bruised heap. This is what he'd get most nights. But the worst thing was, he was so used to it, that he'd just take it. Everyone at school asked where he got his bruises and scars, he just said he'd had a rough match of football. Truth was, he was scared. He was so fucking scared that one day, his dad would hit him too hard. That he'd never wake up. But then again, he hardly wanted to see tomorrow anyway. Through his eyes, every day was just one more challenge. One more obstacle that he had to get over. He'd never tried to take his life before, he was too scared of the pain. Too scared of what was beyond all of it. Was it just darkness? Was there anything there? He'd know soon enough.
Dragging himself from his living room floor, Zack made his way upstairs to his room. He collapsed on his bed in a flood of tears, like he did every other night. Wiping them away with the sleeve of his shirt, he slipped his hand beneath his pillow and pulled out a small razor blade. It glinted in the light, so invitingly. It was the instrument that always took his pain away. He choked out his tears as he stepped into the bathroom, drawing his sleeves back as he did so. Zack locked the door behind him, knowing that this could be the last night of his suffering.
Slowly dropping to the bathroom floor, he moved his fringe from his eyes, clearing away the tears there too. He bit his lip as he moved the blade to his forearm, pressing down hard as he dragged it across with shaking hands. Sure enough, and as he'd hoped, small droplets of blood formed, trickling down his arm. But this wasn't enough for him. He moved the blade further down his arm, pushing harder than before. He squeezed his eyes shut and drew it towards himself, leaving a deep gash there. Within seconds it filled with blood and spilled out onto his pale skin. He slashed his aching arm again, leaving a trail of thin, bloody scrapes covering his forearm.
His head hung low as he ran his hand through his hair, shaking as he did so. He could feel his pulse beating harder from the shock of what he had done. He rose quietly to his feet and stared at himself in the mirror. He hated what he saw. Through years of abuse, he had come to believe that he was pathetic, useless, ugly, like his father had always told him. All he saw was some little emo kid. Someone that nobody loved, someone that made no difference in this world. Nobody cared.
Shutting his eyes and calming his breathing, he bought his arm up to his chest, wiping away the coagulated blood on his shirt. He smiled sadly at the stinging feeling, knowing that it would all be over soon. The blood-covered blade hovered over his wrist, Zack staring vacantly at the blueish purple veins that rested beneath his already scarred skin. He let out a small exasperated squeal as he pressed down hard, harder than ever before. His face contorted into an expression of sadness and fear as he breathed his final breath of freezing, stale air, and sliced through his flesh and veins.
Blood spilled from the wound, flowing violently as he fell to his knees. A breath of relief escaped his quivering lips. Fresh tears mixed with his blood to make an amber coloured pool around where he had fallen on the ground. A small smile made it's was up to his lips, true happiness shining in his eyes as he lay dying. Only in the ending of his life could he be happy.
Thanks for reading, I really appreciate it. Again, reviews would be nice.
Thankyou :3 3