Storm
By: Skulz
Rating: R
Genre: Angst/Spiritual
Summary: William is suicidal andresents his parents for giving him up.
Author's Notes: I apologize to anyone who is a fan of my work (I don't think there are too many of you, but incase there are any). I haven't written much lately, and most of the things I write, I never finish. This is just a quickie... hopefully I'll update more now during the summer since I don't have a lot on my plate at the moment.
Dedication: For my piano teacher, Margaret.

The rain was pouring down heavily outside as William took another look at himself in the mirror. His red hair now dyed black and his blue eyes hidden behind those oblivious emo glasses. A frustrated look smothered his seventeen year old freckled face. He was on the verge of tears, gritting his teeth to stop himself from whimpering. Those thoughts of his parents had entered his mind yet again. Mother and Father: who could they be? Why had they left him? What was wrong with him? How could someone not want a baby? Why would anyone create a life just to give it away? So many questions and not an answer to be heard. A flash of lightning struck from the clouds above.

William opened the cabinet and took a new razor from the packet. He eyed the plastic coated blade and contemplated making another cut across his wrist. William sighed heavily and wiped a tear from the corner of his eye. He just couldn't do it; at least not now. Shoving the blade into his pocket, he walked out of the bathroom and down the hall into his sanctuary.

He sat on his bed and thought of phoning his counselor, however he couldn't bring himself to do that either. Phoning her would be like showing weakness, and Will was a stubborn young man. Softly, he cried, laying atop the twin bed and he heard the thunder crackling outside. William felt so alone and desolate, and at that point, all he wanted was to die.

With closed eyes, he reached into his pocket and found the razor blade. Another crash of thunder was heard outside as he made the first cut into his left wrist. He heard the rain pounding against the roof, just like his anger pounding in his mind. The blood dribbled down his arm and onto his black jeans, and William clenched his teeth, letting the pain sink in. The pain didn't go away. It would never go away, or at least not until he died. "Do I want to die?" he asked himself. An unforgiving "yes" whispered tenderly in the back of his mind. He took a black ballpoint pen and a little book from his desk, writing down his darkest feelings. Drips of crimson hemoglobin fell onto the page, but William didn't care; the blood loss helped process his thoughts. He smiled down at his scratchy writing; he felt that someone finally understood him: the pen and paper. Will tucked a strand of dyed black hair behind his ear and looked over his suicide note.

Dear Mom and Dad,
Though I will never know you, I have decided that I hate you both. How dare you give me up! What kind of sick freaks give life to a child just to give it away? How could you? Didn't you have any regards for my feelings? Didn't you love me? Didn't you feel anything, you heartless animals! Thanks for nothing. May you both rot and burn in the fires of Hell.
-William van de Kemp

And with that he tore the note from the tiny booklet, grabbed the three foot long rope from under his bed, and tiptoed downstairs. He stopped by the phone and wrote Gone to think - Will on the message pad, and slipped out the door and into the night.

William walked down to the soccer field where he tied it around his neck and climbed up on top of the wooden goal post. He tied the other end of the rope to the centre of the post. As he sat there, he said his final prayer. "Lord, I apologize for my actions in advance. I just can't live like this any longer. I pray for everyone I know to be kept safe without me and for my own journey into the afterlife to be a pleasant one. Thank you, Lord, for all you've given me. In Jesus' name I pray... Amen." He sighed one last time and let a tear trickle down his cheek as he pulled out the letter to his parents. "I'm sorry," he whispered into the hostile night. William pushed himself from the post, and he hung there, soaking wet from the unforgiving rain.