12. To End It All

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"You fucking disgusting piece of shit! You're not a fucking man! You're a fucking sissy! A bitch! A pig wishing to get raped!"

"Shut up..." I whispered, placing my hands on my head as I retreated from the door. And Cole.

"Just die! Die! DIE!"

I turned around, dropping my bag, and stumbled towards the counter in the kitchen. I heard Cole following me. He tried to talk to me, but I refused to listen. I couldn't even hear him over the sound of my screeching father.

"DIE FAGGOT!!"

I grabbed the biggest knife I could find and turned around to point it at Cole, who stopped by the door with his hands up, a scared look on his face.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, let's not do anything hasty," he spoke timidly. "Let's just calm down, okay?"

"I am calm! You need to get the fuck away from me!" I yelled at him.

"Okay, okay, okay! I'll go if you give me that knife, okay?"

"Fuck off!"

"Just give me the knife, and I'll get out of your hair," Cole said, trying to sound soothing, but I could still hear his fear. "You're not well, Randy."

"Don't call me that!" I growled, taking a step towards him. "Don't you fucking call me that!"

"Randy, the cock-loving slut," my dad said, and laughed. "Just drop your pants and be done with it. He knows you want it."

"Shut up...!" I tried to yell, but it came out as a beg.

"Everything will be all right," Cole said, and took a careful step closer to me. "Let me help you. You know you can trust me, right?"

"Fuck off!" I told him, but he took another step toward me. "I mean it! Stay the fuck away from me!"

"I can't leave you alone like this," he said. "Please, let me help you."

"Yes, let him fuck you, whore."

"Just shut up already..." I whimpered, backing away from Cole. "Leave me alone..."

I wanted them both gone.

"Give me the knife, and I'll leave you alone," Cole spoke softly, stepping even closer to me, slowly trying to reach for the knife.

"No! I'm done with you! All of you!" I shouted, turning the blade to my stomach.

I didn't even think about what I was doing when I gathered the strength and speed to end everything. I just wanted it to end... I wanted to be alone.

Completely alone.

But I was denied my freedom. Cole was in front of me in a split second and grabbed my arm. He was much stronger than me and held the knife away with ease. I refused to let it go, but I couldn't fulfill my wish.

"Let me go," I whispered. "I can't do this anymore..."

I was crying...

"Sissy..." My father laughed at me. "Fucking sissy!"

"Let me help you," Cole spoke, holding me still against the counter. "You have to let me help you. You're sick. I know you've been through some really fucked up shit, and I'm here for you. I want to help you, so please, let me."

I stared at him, still trying to free my arm from his iron grip.

"Help me by ending my misery," I told him.

"I will help you, but not like this. Death isn't a solution. Trust me. I just need you to be strong for me a little while longer. We will get you the help you need. I know this amazing psychiatrist–"

"No! I can't do this! He keeps talking in my head! Saying things, and I... I can't... I'm not like him..."

"I know, I know. You are an amazing person. A good person. You don't want to end it like this. I promise everything will be all right if you let me help you," he spoke.

His voice was so gentle... So sincere... I could still see fear in his eyes.

"I..."

I looked at the knife. What on earth was I doing? What was happening to me...? I looked back at Cole, who gave me a careful smile.

"Let me help you," he whispered.

The sound of the knife dropping on my floor almost scared the crap out of me. Cole let out a deep, shaky breath and slowly let go of my arm. But he didn't move away. I knew he'd catch me in a heartbeat if I tried to go for the knife again.

"Everything will be all right," he said. "But I don't think I should leave you alone right now."

What was I supposed to say? Or do? My messed-up head was even more of a mess, and I felt lost. My entire body was still shaking, and I...

I was afraid of myself.

"I'll stay with you, okay?" he spoke softly.

I nodded.

"All right," he said, smiling carefully. "Let's just take a deep breath, okay?"

I nodded again. He placed his hands on my arms like making sure I wasn't trying to get away from him. I wasn't. I was so scared I couldn't even think about moving. I didn't know how to continue from this...

"Help me," I whispered. "I don't know what to do..."

"I'm here for you," he promised, carefully sliding his hands behind me, and when I didn't resist, he hugged me. "I'll take care of you. I promise, everything will be all right."

My body tensed up in his arms, but he didn't let go. For a moment, I felt trapped, unable to escape, but another feeling rose above it.

Comfort.

My head was finally silent when I timidly placed my hands on his back, and rested my head on his shoulder, closing my eyes. I was still scared, but his presence calmed me. And when his hold on me grew tighter, I felt safe.

"You will be fine," he whispered in my ear.

I wanted to believe him...

But I couldn't. 


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