So Cold

by Calling Autumn Fall

A boy, with no memories of his life, is held as a lab rat in a bunker by a scientist. He hates his life and would rather be dead. But when he is brought to another home and given a name, how can he hate anything of it? Rated T for angst, dark and suicidal thoughts, and violence. Human AU.

11. Chapter 11

Oh hello there, how're you feeling today? Here's the next chapter for you hon, Merry Christmas:D

Chapter 11

Drowning in frozen water

I'm back in the chair. Strapped in like a madman. Maybe I am crazy. Maybe that's why I'm here. The fire starts burning in my veins and I start screaming.
That's when I wake up, wrapped in my covers, still screaming.

There are nights like that make me want to go. To leave and never come back. But I'm still so intrigued by that letter that was left for me when I got here.
So curious to find out who that Jackson Overland is, and how I knew him.
Were we friends? Enemies?

The moon is shining full glory tonight, and the water is glistening. Beautiful.
I shuffle out of bed and walk to the graveyard.
I sit down by his grave, the chamomiles have started to turn brown but the moonlight makes them seem beautiful.

I've been going here for a few days. Pouring my feelings out to this person I think I knew. I feel like a failure, which is weird because I've never felt like a non-failure.

Someone walks into the graveyard but I don't dare look. My eyes are focused on those chamomiles. The footsteps are heavy, like the ones of an old man. I hope he'll just pay his respect to the lost, and leave.

He does.

I sigh. Maybe deep inside I actually was hoping he'd stop and talk to me.

I stand up and walk around the forest, my bare feet tangling around roots and other stuff that stick up from the ground. My stomach feels uneasy for some reason. Like the world is telling me to go away.

"You think I haven't tried that!?" I yell with a shaking voice into the air.

I have tried taking my life before. Last time was a few weeks ago. After the whole Easter incident. I tried to slid my wrists, but after I blacked out from blood loss, I woke up in my bed, both the pain and the wounds gone. I was left with only faint scars.
One time I tried to jump off a cliff. One time I hanged myself. One time I swallowed a bunch of pills I got in the drug store. All of these tries had the same agonizing results.

I'm still alive.

And I've given up on dying.

My anger subsides and the tears try to break through this mask of humor that I put on this morning. I've come to live behind it. It makes life easier to handle.

I fall to my knees and sob for what seems like hours.

"I can't"