My Heart Is Dying
By: Wolfiepheonix
A/N: This starts in Jay's POV, set in season 5…reviews…please?
Pleasure, that's what its about. The pleasure. Alex gave me pleasure, but I wanted more. Girls were willing to give me it, and I let them like the dog I am. I loved Alex, no doubt , she was my everything. We were the rebels against the world, I got her and she got me. I won her over once and we became inseparable ever since. She had spunk, attitude, and was so damn beautiful. If I wanted sex, she'd know, and want it just as bad. But then she got into the whole 'student council prez' thing., and lets just say , she was too busy to give me the amount of pleasure she used to. That ticked me off. My Lexxi throwing me away for some queers and nerds.
Then the ravine. The place to go for pleasure. I wanted that, so that's where I went to get it. Into the world of the durggies and nyphos. It first started out with just one girl , then two, then well…more. It was a game and I was a player. Who could get the most bracelets, how fun.
I light a cigarette and let the nicotine invade my lungs.
Lexxi and I used to smoke all the time after a good fuck. Our sweaty bodies would cuddle up and smoke a pack. Sometimes a blunt, sometimes a cig, depending on what we had.
I grab the half empty bottle of vodka next to me and chug the rest down. The burning sensation feels good and my mid feels dizzy. I reach over to my underwear drawer and take out a handful of pictures. All of Lexxi , and a few of us together.
"Why damnit why?!" I scream out angrily to the empty room. I throw the pictures away from me and watch as they all fall to the floor. The 5 year relationship of Lexxi and I scattered all over my room, reminding me of what I fucked up. My anger is here and I can feel the way it is mixing with the alcohol. I sob pathetically and throw the empty vodka bottle at the wall. It shatters into a bunch of pieces, going everywhere. I look down at my foot and see a nice sharp one. Without thinking I grab the glass piece and start roughly slashing at my wrist. I finish my slaying with a final slash on my pulse… that one hurt the most. I stare down at my bloody mess that I call my wrist and feel my mind slipping away.
Drifting off into unconsciousness a final thought runs through my head.
If my heart is dying, why not the rest of me go along with it?