A/N: Feeling a bit down. Flame all you want. I don't care. This is just a one-shot thing.
~*~Draco's Pain~*~
Pain.
It's the only thing I really know...
It's my best friend...
And it's always there for me to make the world go away when I need it...
Even if it is just for a few minutes' high...
Nothing can stop the pain. It just keeps lashing out at me with its vicious claws, taunting and tempting me with the urge to feel again...to forget.
People hate me.
I hate people.
As simple as that.
But they hate me just because they don't understand me...They don't understand anything.
Hurting other people doesn't help me anymore.
Other people get stronger.
I only get weaker...
I watch the crimson liquid flow freely across my pale skin, and I wonder how long it would take for me to die from bleeding to death.
Would anyone care that I had gone?
Would anyone realize I was gone?
Just how long would it be, before they found my cold, lifeless body rotting in a pool of dried, crimson despair and pain?
The image is inviting, and I find myself driving the cold knife blade even deeper into my soft, warm flesh.
Just how long will it be?