Being the massive dork I am I decided to write something while I wait for some inspiration. So Enjoy this R&R ^_^
Tourniquet
I've had it. I can't believe he's doing this to me again. He said he wouldn't. And I believed his lying ass. He told me "No Matt, I'm done with that. I've stopped completely and I'm clean." That bastard, But I'm the dumbass who believed him. Even after the dozens of times I've suffered from it. I still believed him. No more, I won't let him do this to me any more. The pain he brings me emotionally and physically, mainly physically, whenever he's high or drunk, it kills me more than it does him. He was fine when sober but otherwise he was violent and angry, and he always took it out on me.
Tonight was no different. He reminded me of Ivan, from the things I've heard. Tonight he was both, I shouldn't have visited. When I had walked into his apartment I could smell the weed right away. But even before I had the chance to turn and leave he had already pinned me against the wall. His breath reeking of Liquor, I turned my face not wanting to see the look in his eye. "You came, hmm?" I nodded, His words slurred together. "I-I thought you told me you wouldn't do anything tonight…" He grabbed my face and pulled it towards him. "Look at me when I'm talking to you." His fingers of his left hand dug into my cheeks, his finger nails pressing into my skin. The pain brought a cry into my throat and tears to my eyes. He seemed to ignore what I had said.
"Alfred, let go, you're hurting me." I managed out. I raised my arms to grab the one that was crushing my face. But with no luck he grabbed me wrist and slammed my head against the wall. I let out a small shriek.
"I'm hurting you, huh? I don't believe I am. How am I hurting you?" His voice was harsh. I whimpered not wanting to answer. "See, I'm not hurting you, am I?"
"Y-You are, Alfred, a-and I'm sick of it." He let go of my face and frowned. I was terrified of what he was going to do next. "You're sick of it huh? What are you sick of?"
"Y-your abuse, your drinking, your smoking." I staggered out.
"Abuse?" He asked. "Like this?" He punched me in the jaw with great force. It felt as if he had broken it. I brought my hand up to my face and felt the spot where he had hit. "Or like this?" He threw me from the wall and onto the ground before kicking me several times in the ribs. My tears spilled out of my eyes and I couldn't breathe for with every kick he knocked out my wind. I coughed and hacked up what was in my throat.
Blood. It spilled from my mouth and onto his floor. "Get up." He ordered and I flipped over and got onto my hands and knees before I felt a weight on my back. I was stepping on my, crushing my spine. "You made a mess." He sneered. "I'll have to treat you just like a dog." He grabbed my neck and smashed my face into the small pool of blood. "This better teach you never to do it again, do you understand?" I try and nod my head but can't for the fact that my face was smashed into the carpet. "What was that?" He asked and with all my force I nod my head. "I thought so." He pulled me up by my neck and kissed my cheek. "Good boy." He smirked. "Now, go get me something to eat. I'm hungry." He pushed me towards the door. "Be back in 20 minutes." I nod before stumbling out of the door.
That's how I ended up now. I'm not going to get his damn food, I'm not doing anything. I'm sick and tired of it. I'm going home and doing the only thing I can do.
I arrive at my flat, get out of my car and fidget with the keys to find the right one unlocking my door. I storm to my room and rummage through my things before finding the razor I hid away after I met Al and his good side. I promised my self that I wouldn't. But tonight, I have to. "Hello old friend" I say smiling softly. I move to a corner in my room, the one where Alfred had backed me into, forcibly kissed me and practically raped me several times over.
I pull off my jacket and with my right hand I push the blade into my wrist. I swipe it quickly across a few droplets of blood pour out. It stung, but my tear stung even more. I dig the edge deeper into the same wound this time, swiping it slower I hiss at the pain before laying back and holding my arm up to watch the blood drip down my arm.
I tried to kill the pain,but only brought more, so much more I lay dying and I'm pouring crimson regret and betrayal.
My breaths were shallow. I hate him, I hate him so much. "I HATE YOU." I scream. I'm not sure who to. Possibly to myself, maybe to the non existent Alfred? I don't know anymore. I just wanted this to end.
I'm dying, praying, bleeding and screaming, am I too lost to be saved, am I too lost?
I dip the blade into the only wound once more deepening it even more. He made me do this. It's the only way I'll be happy once more. I move a centimeter down and shove the blade into my skin, deepening it as far as I can before swiping is across my bleeding wrist. This felt right…for once.
My God my tourniquetreturn to me salvation my God my tourniquetreturn to me salvation
He doesn't care. I pull the blade vertically in between the two horizontal cuts. This one isn't deep enough, I pushed the blade back in and slide it down. He won't remember me. He'll just push me aside and find another man, or woman, He wouldn't come to my funeral if I get one, if I succeed. The thoughts of this made me want to die faster. I fucking hate him.
Do you remember me, lost for so long, will you be on the other side, or will you forget me
I move down once more. I wanted to stab my self. This blade wasn't big enough. Going to the kitchen would that work? I stagger up and stumble to the kitchen before falling in front of the counter. I pull myself up and look at the kitchen block the held my knives. I pull one of the larger knives out and I stab myself in the shoulder. I scream out in pain. I drag the blade down and across my chest and stomach.
I'm dying, praying, bleeding and screaming, am I too lost to be saved, am I too lost?
I hate you. You're nothing to me. How could I love someone who did this to me? I'd rather as much kill my self then have the crime of murder on your hands. Do I still love you?
My God my tourniquetreturn to me salvation,my God my tourniquetreturn to me salvation. I WANT TO DIE!
I take the knife and cut down the shoulder I wounded before. I whisper words in the language I was taught my father "Le seule façon de. Le seule façon de." Tears stream down my face once more. I cough as my breathing becomes shallower. I choke on the blood in my throat. I tilt my head to the side to allow the blood to pour onto the floor.
My God my tourniquetreturn to me salvation,my God my tourniquetreturn to me salvation
I can see partial black. I'm almost there…
But almost only counts in horseshoes.
My wounds cry for the grave, my soul cries for deliverance
One more stab. I'll be there.
will I be denied Christ
I raise the knife as high as I can go positioning it over my heart. This is my end
Tourniquet
Without a second thought I know this is right I pull the blade down to my chest in great force. I gasp as it hits my beating muscle. I lay on the kitchen floor with a knife in my heart the perfect way to go… No one could save me now, It was over, and I was happy with it.
My suicide
Soooo...How was it? :"D Did I write in French wrong again? _; Well... anyway. Tell me if you want me to write the Aftermath. I have it planned out but I don't want to work on it if no one wants to read it ^_^" so um... let me know if this was a complete fail or not... I'm not good at writing down angst... I'm just good at thinking about it