Secrets in the Dark
By: Dark Devil
Disclaimer: I have no rights or titles to anything whatsoever excepting my plot line and ideas.
I couldn't do this.
But I had to.
Keeping my unsteady on the knife I flinched, then set my face into one of indifference.
Closing my hazel eyes, I paused to think, my mind in shambles. I was glad that it made no noise to anybody that could have heard, as my mind seemed to be shouting, it was as loud as an air-horn going off in my eardrums.
One part of my brain, I couldn't decide if it was the sensible one or not, was shouting,
No! Don't do it, why do it?
The other part, apparently the other sensible side, was shouting back,
--If you don't, then you'll never do it! You'll be a weakling, never to do anything for yourself, you'll be open, and taken advantage of each time, only to be hurt!It's better for you to do this, and learn, and live unharmed too badly, it's for your own good!--
Anybody watching would have seen a reckless grin, no, a smirk, that would say, 'how ironic' grace my face.
I wasn't really aware that I was smirking, all my thoughts being taken up by hearing out both arguments, weighing them and their consequences equally.
It never occurred to me to question why I was playing third party to two voices, consciences, in my head.
Why harm yourself? Isn't it bad enough that others do?
--If you do this, then you'll be... immune to the games of humans This one bit of pain, and you'll be immune for the rest of your life--
If you do this, how would it make you immune to mental pain? Physical, yes, it may help, but mentally? How?
--By making yourself immune to physical pain, you can make yourself immune to mental pain, by distancing yourself from others, not needing their help or protection, only relying on yourself. Only you could hurt yourself that way.--
Mentally sighing, I stared at the sharp blade in my hands, not seeing it at all, wondering what I would do.
The way I figured it, I had two options.
Do this, make myself immune to becoming attached to anybody or anything, leave, and live without pain. Or I could leave the blade, these thoughts, and let people hurt me wherever I went. But I could experience love, happiness, all those good emotions that you hear about. It was not an easy choice.
Sure, if you do this now, this little bit of pain, you'll be free from it, but what's the point of living, if you won't live? You'll be apart from the others, never experiencing life as you should, as a human.
--If you live life like that, like a human, then you'll experience two moments of bliss, then three lifetimes of pain. It'll never work, it's wrong. You must do this, and live your life between bliss and pain, live your life in a nothing, an indifference perspective.Wonder around and never let anything get to you. He let himself get close to her, and look at him, he's spent half his life chasing after a dragon, only to have her try to kill him each time.--
His quest is noble, he shall save her, and then his bliss will come back.
--But would it have been worth it? Losing the innocence his childhood had? Loosing his trust in humans? Loosing his ability to show emotions freely? Having the greatest sorcerers try to kill him as a traitor at each turn? No, I think not. He doesn't even know what he's doing, he's wandering around blindly. Do you want to be like that? Just take the knife, a little pain now covers a lifetime of pain later.--
Shaking my head, I grabbed the knife's handle with a tight fist. My knuckles were white, my face pale, and sweating.
I had to do this.
I must do this.
Please, think this through, this could mean your whole life, never to have friends, never to have loved ones...it could cost you a lot more then you think. Is gaining a life without pain caused by others worth it? You'll get pain caused by lack of others.
--Loved ones? Ha, who's loved you!--
The voices dropped to whispers, and I found myself straining desperately to hear them.
Fiena. She loved you deeply. Do this, and loose any chance to meet another like her, to experience like that again.
--Experience what again? The feeling of knowing bliss one moment, and then pain the next? Knowing that your mere liking of one person led to her being killed by her very own people? Do you want to live like that? Do you?--
Though it was a whispered thought, it stung like it was yelled, like a dagger being thrust into my heart, and wrenched around painfully.
I was going to do this.
Grabbing the knife, I glanced around, now aware of my surroundings.
We were at Totokonta, Cleo staying at her place, and Orphen was in a rented room at my father's tavern.
I had been in my old room, so there was no need to worry about Orphen waking when I left the room, he was asleep two doors down.
On my way out, I had grabbed a knife from the kitchen. It was a sick sort of glee that I got, knowing that the knife used to cut food for people would be cutting my very own skin… Piercing through my wrists... It would make them cannibals.
Now I was standing on the small area of grass that was behind the tavern. By the position of the moon, I guessed that it was about two in the morning, yet I hadn't felt less tired then this in quite a while.
Swallowing, I slowly, as though to draw the pain out, drew the blade across my left wrist, leaving a thin line of crimson, ignoring the sting it caused and the tears building in my eyes.
Next, I removed my watch, dropped it and slowly sliced my right wrist, following the imprint around my tan where the watch had been.
Falling to my knees, I swallowed the tears back, bringing the blade back to my left wrist. I inserted it where the crimson line had stared to trickle down my arm and turned the blade, prying the skin apart, letting the blood fall faster, and causing much pain to myself.
Holding back a yelp of pain that got caught in my throat, I slowly repeated this action to my right hand, then again as they started to close. I just kept going and going, my mind now blank.
No noise, no voices... Just me, my wrists, the knife, and my pain.
When I heard people starting to rise, getting ready for work at four am, I slowly rose to my feet and stashed the bloody knife in a hollow tree. After throwing some dew over the grass to clean away the droplets of blood, I staggered into my room as quietly as I could. Quickly, I tied rags around my wrists before the blood dripped anywhere, then threw myself onto the bed, letting the pillow muffle my tears and sobs.
At seven, when I heard mostly all the occupants of my father's tavern arise, I also got up, my face covered in dry tears, and wondering how I would hide the still half bleeding wounds.
The right hand was easy to deal with. After folding a little piece of bed linen, I held it under the watchstraps, and fastened it up. Perfect fit, even if it was a little tender.
Perfect that is, as long as it didn't get caught in the wrong light, nobody would be the wiser. But I didn't know what to do for my left hand.
Finally, I just bandaged it, and opted for a long-sleeved jumper to wear, aiming to keep my hand in my pocket all day. If I got caught, I'd have to say that I accidentally cut myself.
