I've cut before and have heard the saying from my best friend "don't cut down the street, cut across." My friend also (who was suicidal at the time) told me that if you cut down then shove your arm in cold water it would keep the blood from clotting and you would slowly bleed to death. I wrote this story kinda as a vent of my previous lifestyle, how I felt about it and how in the end I decided to not let life beat me down, death wouldn't have me that easily. It seems like Ed would have the same feelings of endless sadness and letting the burden of what he had done darken his actions. I kinda added in Tourniquet by Evanescence into it, cause it suited it alot, since it is about suicide and stuff. So please enjoy and don't let life beat you down so easily.

Across the street not down, Yeah I heard that before, it referred to cutting. If you cut across it would cause the desired pain and some blood, but cut down and you open the main vein in your arm, its agony and you could bleed to death.

I forgot about that saying, or merely put it to the back of my mind this night…

"I tried to kill the pain, but only brought more

So much more…"

I had begun cutting a little while after we burnt down our home and began our quest for the philosopher's stone. It seemed fitting to hurt myself like this, since I had hurt everyone I had come to know. Al for one, I had bound his soul to that prison of a body, I kept getting his hopes up only to crush them with another false lead.

I sighed as I remembered all the wrong I had done, letting the self hatred take over me, giving me the strength to do what I was about to do.

I was in the bathroom, away from Al, holding a small knife that I had made out of some metal from the sink nearby. I gritted my teeth; this would be the end of everyone's suffering, the end of my endless pain. Instead of cutting across like I normally would have I cut down. The pain was intense but I forced myself to stand over the sink, shoving my bleeding arm under the water, which would stop the cut from forming a scab.

"I didn't die, and I'm pouring crimson regret

And betrayal…"

I was beginning to get woozy, my legs beginning to shake. I raised my arm from the cold water and slumped to the ground, the room around be starting to blur.

"Brother, are you in there?" Al's voice sounded from outside the door. I so desperately wanted to answer but kept myself silent

"I'm dying, praying, bleeding and screaming

Am I too lost to be saved?

Am I too lost?"

"Brother open the door!" Cried Al. I heard his large metal fist slam against the door. I let out a slight moan, willing him to stop, to leave me to die alone.

"I'm breaking down the door!" Shrieked Al, and with a snapping sound the door broke into thousands of tiny splitters of white wood. He looked down at me and took in the blood that was pooling around my bloody arm.

"My god, my tourniquet, return to me salvation

"My god, my tourniquet, return to me salvation…"

"I wanted to end it, end the pain I've been causing others, and end my pain…" I shuddered and my head fell to the cool bathroom floor, relieving my feverish body.

"Suicide is not the answer brother!" Al cried, crouching down to pick me up in his large arms. I smiled weakly as another shudder went through my body.

"Do you remember me, lost for so long?

Will you be on the other side or will you forget me?"

"I'll be with mom soon Al, I love you so much." I felt the world around me disappear, letting myself sink into unconsciousness…

"My wounds cry for the grave

My soul cries for deliverance

Will I be denied?

Christ, tourniquet

My suicide…"

I opened my eyes to see that I was lying in a hospital room, my arm covered in bandages and an IV leading to a bag of deep red fluid. I shuttered, why couldn't Al have let me die? Everyone would be better off without me, if I hadn't come along so many people would be happier, Al mostly.

"Brother?" Al whispered. I looked over at him and suddenly felt his cool metal hand on my limp, hot one.

"I'm alive…" I whispered, a little sad, why couldn't I have died? Al sighed and put his other hand on my forehead, it felt good.

"The nurse said that you would be feverish for a little, your body is fighting off an infection from the cut…" He broke off and looked away. "Brother, please don't die on me, don't do that ever again."

"You're better off without me, just like everyone else." I muttered, not looking at Al, instead looking at the ceiling.

"Brother without you I would be alone, I wouldn't be able to live." His voice was raised slightly. I felt realization hit me instantly. I knew what it was like to feel utterly alone, when I thought that he was gone after trying to bring mother back.

"I'm sorry Al…I truly am…I'll stop, promise." I said, tightening my grip on Al's hand. He turned his head to look at me.

"If you ever do that again I will personally cut you open." He laughed slightly. I laughed weakly as well, feeling slightly better. Never again would I cut myself, not only did it bring pain to me but to those around me, the ones that cared about me…

After that incident I never cut, across the street or down. I would never consider it, no matter how much life wanted to beat me down, how much it wanted me dead I would stay alive to taunt it. I would never give into the temptation of death to get away from life, suicide was the cowards' way out, and I was no coward.

I'm forever thankful towards Al, for saving me and taking me to the hospital, for caring for me when I needed it the most. He was my tourniquet that night and I would never forget that…