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He grabbed the railing and walked closer to the edge of the tall building. The cool wind blew, causing his hair to be blown back. He took a deep breath, and exhaled. He opened his eyes, taking in the city before him. What would happen when he does it? How will he feel? Will he regret it in the last minute? Only one way to find out. Find out. Everything in his life was finding out wasn't it? Finding out and hurting people. He felt selfish. Selfish and weak. Everything in his current life was merely a distraction. Everything the people knew him as, was a lie. He did all this, to block those voices in his head. To block his past, his life. He lied to himself, he lied to everyone. The truth he lived in, he tried to shove in the back of his head. But he could never leave. It's drilled its way into his mind, and stayed there. He would ignore it; distract himself with others who didn't know the pain of reality. He would laugh and cause more pain to others to try to escape his own mind. But you just can't do that. He didn't know how to care for people, he didn't care for himself. All he did was to stop the pain, to escape, to feel less alone. But people don't understand. People leave. People move on. The one friend he used to have had finally come to his senses and left him. Who would blame him? He was a monster, the devil.
He took a step closer, opening crimson eyes, looking down at the people, going about their lives without a care. How he wished he could've been like that. Normal. They would be happier like this. Well look at that, I care for them after all. I just don't care for myself. He was already broken, what's the point of saving someone like him? Right. No point. He grabbed his jacket and pulled it closer as the cold wind blew again. He loved this jacket. He'd take it with him. And his flick blade. He looked down at the ground, memories rushing through his mind.
You never should have been born.
How did that guy even like you?
You're the devil, the devil.
You don't deserve to live.
He always looked so strong, but like everything else, it was all a lie. He was good actor. Behind that fake smile, there was a crying, breaking, weak boy. That's all there was to it. He was empty. No point in living. No point in saving. It's too late. He wished, he could be like the one he pretended to be. He didn't want to hide behind "The Great Orihara Izaya" mask. He wanted to become him. But it was too late now. Too late. He took a step forward, closing his eyes, he fell, fell to the ground, fell to his end. The end of The Great Orihara Izaya, the true monster of Ikebukuro.
So many things ran through his head in that very moment.
No point in living.
Why do you live?
Why do you fight?
They hate you.
No point in living.
No point in loving.
No point in saving.
No point.
No point.
It's too late.
HIIIII PEOPLE! This is my first fanfiction an and I hope you enjoy it. I decided to do it because I have a lot of ideas and it was a snow day so I was bored. -_- I read a lot of fanfictions and the Durarara ones are amazing! Anyway, enjoy and I hope I'm not too lazy to continue this!