Dwindle Little Star
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Disclaimer: I own nothing.
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A/N: Once upon a time all the people of the land began to hate me because I got peeved off at Moliver and she told everyone I was a psycho who was bashing her and her stories.
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Before-Shane
She wasnt opening her door.
He slid against it desperately pounding on it.
"Mitch. Please."
His voice was wavering.
He was on the verge of tears.
She opened the door and stared at him as a crumpled heap on the floor.
"This is sad. Get up."
He got up.
And she slammed the door in his face.
"Mitchie dont do this."
Tears began to fall onto his cheeks.
He could feel his heart crumble.
He sat there crying for another hour trying to get her attention.
She never answered.
He couldnt believe this.
He never would have thought she would do that to him.
They had been so happy.
His heart was now dust blowing through out his chest.
He wiped his tears away with his sleeve.
He took in a deep breath taking one last lingering look at Mitchies door.
And he left.
That night the streets were empty.
No one was roaming about.
He couldnt go any further when he reached the front of a drive thru liquor store.
He stared at it but brushed the thought away.
He buried his head into his knees.
He let out a soft strangled sob.
He was crushed.
He felt a grimy old item brush next to him.
He looked up to see the sun worn face of a man.
The man smiled at Shane showing his toothless yellow grin.
He dug in a brown bag pulling out stuff.
"Do ya wants any?"
Shane stared at him blankly.
And looked down at the items the man had.
He saw one item in particular.
He softly brushed the metal.
"Do ya likes it?"
Shane nodded a bit.
"500."
Shane pulled out his wallet and just gave it to the guy.
He didnt care.
He wasnt going to need it again.
He grabbed the cool handle of the object.
The guy smiled at him and scampered off.
Shane pocketed the item in his pocket.
And ran off to the park.
He went under the jungle gym knowing that the sand would absorb everything.
He pulled the object out of his pocket.
And ran his finger over the smooth silver of the knife.
He took of his shirt dropping it on the ground.
He softly traced the outside of his ribs with the knife softly scratching himself.
He did this a few times.
Before he dug the tip of the knife deeper into his chest.
He softly cut along each rib.
Before going back to the outlining.
And cutting that also.
He began to feel dizzy.
But it was so exciting.
If his blood were not quickly spilling out of him it would be pumping.
He began to feel faint as he quickly cut up his next set of ribs.
He dropped the knife his breathing becoming labored.
He tumbled to the ground.
The concrete.
Not the sand like planned.
He coughed seeing specks of red stain the ground.
He was suffocating on his blood.
He chocked.
Before he rolled over feeling the need to let it all out.
But it came out in labored, painful dry heaves.
Things began to slowly fade.
And he dropped into his own blood.
Dead.
He was found the next morning.
The police set to work.
People set in.
Fans cried seeing his cold body lay.....
