That time, I thought maybe, maybe it was done.
Maybe I'll finally be through with it all. Maybe I would finally die.
I should have known.
I had thought, hoped, and prayed that no one would stop me. I knew that one doctor wouldn't. He wanted to see if I could die. So I assumed (correctly) that if I tried to die again, he would let me. And when I slit my wrist, and he found me, he didn't do anything. I could feel him watching me, waiting to see if I stopped breathing, if my heart would give out.
It didn't.
I healed. Again.
I went into a coma, I think after that. I don't really remember. I think time has passed since that last attempt, but maybe I'm imagining things. I don't really know. I don't really care, either. Time doesn't seem to make any difference to me. I should be aging. Hell, I should be dead.
But I'm not.
I don't think I'll be going to heaven when I die, if I die. I've tried to end this life of mine to many times. Suicide is a mortal sin. I'm going to Hell for that. But I'm not afraid. Not even Hell can be worse than what I have now.
The doctors don't know I'm awake. They think I'm still in a coma. Except Dr. Muraki. He knows. He saw me sitting up in bed just a minute ago. He knows I'm going to try again. I'm going to keep trying until this works.
Ironic, isn't it? In any other circumstance, this sort of determination might be admired.
But I'm only determined to die.
Last time I tried I didn't heal as fast. I'm weaker. So maybe, maybe at last I'll be free of this unintended existence.
I'm picking up the knife. I don't know why they still leave knives in my room, I always use them. I think Dr. Muraki makes the nurses leave them here. He seems to like watching me try to kill myself.
I've slit my wrist. I had to slide the knife between my old scars. Now I'm watching the blood pour out of the cut. Looking at my blood, it seems human enough. It's dripping on the floor now. Pity, the nurses won't like cleaning that up.
I'm getting a little dizzy. I think it's working, I think I'm finally going to die.
The lights are getting dim. I feel very odd. Not happy, but... peaceful. I can just barely feel my blood pool around me as I hit the floor. It's warm. I'm surprised, because the rest of me feels so cold.
I'm dying this time. I know it.
I'm sorry, Ruka. I don't want to be real anymore.
Maybe I'll finally be through with it all. Maybe I would finally die.
I should have known.
I had thought, hoped, and prayed that no one would stop me. I knew that one doctor wouldn't. He wanted to see if I could die. So I assumed (correctly) that if I tried to die again, he would let me. And when I slit my wrist, and he found me, he didn't do anything. I could feel him watching me, waiting to see if I stopped breathing, if my heart would give out.
It didn't.
I healed. Again.
I went into a coma, I think after that. I don't really remember. I think time has passed since that last attempt, but maybe I'm imagining things. I don't really know. I don't really care, either. Time doesn't seem to make any difference to me. I should be aging. Hell, I should be dead.
But I'm not.
I don't think I'll be going to heaven when I die, if I die. I've tried to end this life of mine to many times. Suicide is a mortal sin. I'm going to Hell for that. But I'm not afraid. Not even Hell can be worse than what I have now.
The doctors don't know I'm awake. They think I'm still in a coma. Except Dr. Muraki. He knows. He saw me sitting up in bed just a minute ago. He knows I'm going to try again. I'm going to keep trying until this works.
Ironic, isn't it? In any other circumstance, this sort of determination might be admired.
But I'm only determined to die.
Last time I tried I didn't heal as fast. I'm weaker. So maybe, maybe at last I'll be free of this unintended existence.
I'm picking up the knife. I don't know why they still leave knives in my room, I always use them. I think Dr. Muraki makes the nurses leave them here. He seems to like watching me try to kill myself.
I've slit my wrist. I had to slide the knife between my old scars. Now I'm watching the blood pour out of the cut. Looking at my blood, it seems human enough. It's dripping on the floor now. Pity, the nurses won't like cleaning that up.
I'm getting a little dizzy. I think it's working, I think I'm finally going to die.
The lights are getting dim. I feel very odd. Not happy, but... peaceful. I can just barely feel my blood pool around me as I hit the floor. It's warm. I'm surprised, because the rest of me feels so cold.
I'm dying this time. I know it.
I'm sorry, Ruka. I don't want to be real anymore.