I have returned! Well, here's yet another chapter, Enjoy.
Warning: Attempted suicide...
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The Next Morning
Deidara felt, if possible, worse than the day before.
When he finally got to school, Sasori rushed up to him and asked straight away about Deidara's black eye and swollen lip.
"None of your business, hm," Deidara growled, walking past him and into the school. He made his way to his locker as the bell rang and hastily stuffed his books inside and headed to the Art room.
Once inside, he sat at his seat and noticed that they had a substitute, which meant they could do whatever they wanted. Deidara grabbed some clay and began to work at once. He ignored the fact that Sasori had just come into the classroom and had sat down next to him.
"Gomenasai," Sasori apologized. For what, he didnt know, but it must have been him who made Deidara angry.
Deidara grunted and kept sculpting his half-finished bird. For some reason, he couldn't get the wings right.
He added some clay, took some away, added some more, but he still couldn't get it right.
He could feel his temper rising rapidly as he attempted once more to sculpt the wings right.
He finally snapped.
With a crash, the half-finished scultpture was sent flying across the room. The room went extremely quiet in a matter of seconds. Ignoring the looks of surprise from the other students, Deidara tore off his apron and goggles and marched out of the room.
He walked down the hall, fuming. His father's words seemed to have a strange effect Deidara, turning him into a bad-tempered and un-caring person overnight.
When the bell finally rang, Deidara was the first inside Kakashi's class. He took his seat and slammed his head down on the desk and closed his eyes. The room began to fill up and Deidara could hear everyone talking about him, apparently news traveled fast.
He heard Sasori sit next to him and could feel his brown eyes on the back of his head. Annoyed by this, he raised his head and glared at the red-head. "It's not polite to stare, you know, hm," he said coldly, before laying his head back on the desk.
Deidara couldn't wait to get home.
He was almost hoping his dad would hit him bad enough to kill him. Or leave him in a coma. Or just injure him so badly he had to stay home. But he still liked the first one.
Or maybe...
...he didn't have to wait for his dad to kill him.
xxxxx
Nobody was home.
That just made Deidara feel worse. He felt hopeless, angry, afraid, helpless, and alone. He needed to end it, and needed to do a good job too. No suicide note, no phone calls, nobody would know. At least until they found his body, of course.
But Deidara would be dead when that would happen so...who gives a fuck?
They didn't keep any medicine in the medicine cabinets, so he couldn't use that. Deidara didn't mind, though,
he knew another way. He smirked to himself as he threw his backpack aside and headed to the kitchen.
A knife.
It was the only thing he needed and he chose the biggest one. Deidara almost smiled as he thought of all the things that would end. All his problems would disappear, and he would be in peace.
He sat down on the kitchen floor and put the knife on his left wrist.
Deidara inhaled deeply and mentally slapped himself. He needed to get it over with. Now.
He cried out in pain as the knife made a deep cut in his wrist. He made another, deeper, cut and could feel warm blood soaking into his clothes and soaking his hand. There was a soft and steady drip-drip as the blood began to drip onto the floor.
But Deidara didn't stop there. He grasped the knife with his other hand and made two deep cuts on his other wrists.
Warm blood was running down his arms and soaking his sleeves.
Four more cuts later, Deidara began to feel woozy. He stood up and his surroundings began to spin wildly. He swayed dangerously on the spot and grabbed on to the counter behind him. It didn't help at all, his grip on the counter slackened and he fell to the floor with a thud.
Deidara was sitting in a puddle of his own blood. He tried getting up again but his legs and felt like lead. His arms and head, on the other hand, felt light as air.
His vision was going fuzzy and he felt tired and really needed to sleep. He heard the front door open, the sound was far away, like an echo. Deidara could hear footsteps, but all he cared about was getting some sleep. He felt confused. Why was he so tired?
Deidara finally began to close his eyes. The last thing he heard, was a distant scream.
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Short, I know . But let's face it...a little suspense never killed anyone. -Random person drops dead- O.O;;
Oh...um...-pushes dead person under my bed- . -cough, cough- R&R plz? Thanks.