A/N This is from Sasuke's POV. He's really depressed.
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.
Attention: contains blood, suicidal thoughts and depression. Just so you know.
A razor. A cool, small, sharp piece of metal. And so, so deadly. He wondered what it would feel like. There's no doubt that it would hurt. But he wasn't afraid of the pain. He wasn't afraid of the blood. The one thing he was afraid of was to live on in this empty world, to keep living this empty life. He turned around, only to see the piece of paper on the desk, with a ballpoint next to it. The ink on the paper wasn't dry. Why was it not dry? He walked over to the desk and read the words.
Sorrow is my world
Death is my goal
Sympathy is an illusion
Geez, he sounded like some sort of emo. Then again, he meant it. Every single word came straight from his heart. The heart that was still beating. It was meaningless. What did he have to live for. He was just a weak little worm. Worthless. Unwanted. Unloved. His eyes started to burn with tears. He wouldn't be surprised if they were blood red. His eyes looked at the words again.
Satan is my god
Devils rule my life
Hell is where I live
Pain is what I feel
Hope is still in Pandora's Box
In which I'm not
What hope was left for someone, something, like him? There was nothing. And there was it again, the corpses, the screams, and himself, a little boy at that time, crying like a baby, not able to do anything. A worthless, meaningless, weak, unworthy little brat. And he saw those devilish eyes again, those blood red eyes, staring at him, and that evil smirk that made the whole image all the more freaky.
I don't have a body
I don't have a mind
I don't have a home
I don't have a life
Ever since that day, he was empty, his life was empty, everything and everyone was just an empty piece of nothing to him! Why was he here while they were dead?!?!?! He cursed the monster that had done all of this.
"Itachi…" he whispered, and even he was scared of the amount of hatred and pain and anger in his voice. He wanted to make that… that… that demon pay for what he had done, but again, he had to conclude he was too weak. Just a no good little brat, like he always had been.
I don't recognize this
Fucked up world
This place we live in
Okay, that's it! He would do it! He definitely would! He grabbed the razor, accidentally making some small cuts in his fingers. He didn't even feel it. He just looked at the small drops of blood that fell on the floor. Drip, drip, drip. And then, the tears finally came, joining the blood on the floor. Drip, drip, drip.
Dreams don't reach me
Dreams can't reach me
Dreams don't know me
He heard himself sobbing when the metal touched his wrist. But at least, the pain and guilt and sorrow and the emptiness would be over.
I'm human
And with that, he moved, and darkness filled his mind. And the dark red stream of blood drenched the paper, and the words could never be read again.
A/N I hope you liked this story. I used a poem I've written myself. I wrote when I was very depressed, maybe that explains some things. Reviews are most appreciated^^
Love,
Lenneko-chan