Number 10
10. Fullmetal Alchemist, Edward
The pain lance up his arm, and Ed sighed in pleasure. This was his sweet release, the blade pressed against skin and the warm trickle of red blood that collected in his palm and trailed down his arm.
It felt so good. Which is why he did it, because he felt it. The only thing he could still feel.
His mother, a homunculus. His brother, dead. His best friend since childhood, tortured and killed by his mother.
No one was left. He didn't feel love or sadness. He was numb.
Ed could feel the dizziness. He cut deeper than normal, because he wanted to.
With bloody fingers, he scrawled messily on the wall.
My wounds cry for the grave.
My sould cries for deliverance.
Will I be denied?
Christ, tourniquet.
My suicide.
Tourniquet – Evanescence