Edd?
*Cough Cough* the simple motion of lifting his head to look around made him spasm. "How pathetic am I?" he tried to yell, but only a whisper came out as his head fell on to a hard pillow. In his head, his own words echoed, and then an answer came. It was already six o'clock, and his parents had just left. Had they cared, had they given a damn, they would have left the moment their son discovered the prescription bottle was empty. The events of the day were passing through his mind, but in slow motion. The wasn't here and now, but there and then- holding a orange bottle, devoid of the pills he needed so desperately, and strangely of the label also.
The crunching sound resonated in his ears, he could still feel his skin breaking under the bandages as, in his head, the translucent, orange bottle cracked, and shattered in his fist. In that moment, he knew no happiness, no light, no warmth or protection. He had hardly known these vaguely from when he was young to begin with, but now the memories were gone. The warmth from thinking of times when he believed in love, in family had seemed to melt away, leaving only an empty cold. He could actually feel his soul drip out of his body as he had cried for his parents in a moment of panic. The smug look on his mother's face as she glared at his, as if he were a burden. Though not entirely untrue, the thought of being nothing but a responsibility was painful, and a feeling of regret for seemingly nothing began to brew in his stomach. No, not for nothing, regret for life.
He was back, poor little frail Edward, lying helplessly on his bed. A raspy breath could be felt coming in and going out, the cold air making the already difficult task of breathing that much harder. His chest was sore, and his throat felt burnt and ragged. Yes, death would be a much better alternative, but his parents would never grant him the gift of euthanasia. To think of being put to sleep, like a house cat or a pet dog, seemed laughable; however, the thought of an end to suffering was no laughing matter. Preferably before anyone found out, this whole thing made him feel so helpless, nothing more than a child that had lost his parents, or a stray kitten.
"Edd? Hey Double D where are you?" Eddy called from downstairs. Edd probably wouldn't have recognized the all too familiar voice, had it not been for the earlier visit. His parents had of course sent him away, that deterrent is most likely what brought him back. Edd strained to listen to the shallow footsteps he would have been able to hear so well, if he had his medicine- the familiar clunking of the largest and oldest Ed was absent, nowhere to be found. The creaking of he steps, of the wooden floor beneath a carpet in the hall, these sounds came in slow motion- each sound giving a painful shock to his body. Tender and frail, he tried to sit up in vain, he hated that his friend had caught him in his own lie.
*Cough Cough* the simple motion of lifting his head to look around made him spasm. "How pathetic am I?" he tried to yell, but only a whisper came out as his head fell on to a hard pillow. In his head, his own words echoed, and then an answer came. It was already six o'clock, and his parents had just left. Had they cared, had they given a damn, they would have left the moment their son discovered the prescription bottle was empty. The events of the day were passing through his mind, but in slow motion. The wasn't here and now, but there and then- holding a orange bottle, devoid of the pills he needed so desperately, and strangely of the label also.
The crunching sound resonated in his ears, he could still feel his skin breaking under the bandages as, in his head, the translucent, orange bottle cracked, and shattered in his fist. In that moment, he knew no happiness, no light, no warmth or protection. He had hardly known these vaguely from when he was young to begin with, but now the memories were gone. The warmth from thinking of times when he believed in love, in family had seemed to melt away, leaving only an empty cold. He could actually feel his soul drip out of his body as he had cried for his parents in a moment of panic. The smug look on his mother's face as she glared at his, as if he were a burden. Though not entirely untrue, the thought of being nothing but a responsibility was painful, and a feeling of regret for seemingly nothing began to brew in his stomach. No, not for nothing, regret for life.
He was back, poor little frail Edward, lying helplessly on his bed. A raspy breath could be felt coming in and going out, the cold air making the already difficult task of breathing that much harder. His chest was sore, and his throat felt burnt and ragged. Yes, death would be a much better alternative, but his parents would never grant him the gift of euthanasia. To think of being put to sleep, like a house cat or a pet dog, seemed laughable; however, the thought of an end to suffering was no laughing matter. Preferably before anyone found out, this whole thing made him feel so helpless, nothing more than a child that had lost his parents, or a stray kitten.
"Edd? Hey Double D where are you?" Eddy called from downstairs. Edd probably wouldn't have recognized the all too familiar voice, had it not been for the earlier visit. His parents had of course sent him away, that deterrent is most likely what brought him back. Edd strained to listen to the shallow footsteps he would have been able to hear so well, if he had his medicine- the familiar clunking of the largest and oldest Ed was absent, nowhere to be found. The creaking of he steps, of the wooden floor beneath a carpet in the hall, these sounds came in slow motion- each sound giving a painful shock to his body. Tender and frail, he tried to sit up in vain, he hated that his friend had caught him in his own lie.