Tatted

THE WOMEN I LEFT BEHIND

TRIGGER WARNING: MENTIONS OF SUICIDE

"Humans are the real monsters."

*****

TYLER'S POV

I slam the beer can down on the table, an angry growl coming from my lips. Beer splatters all over the once clean table. I do not bother to clean it.

Actually, I do not bother to clean anything in this house anymore. Nor do I bother to call for a house cleaner. The mess is too much and too embarrassing.

There are crushed cans and liquor bottles littered on every counter top, across the floor, and piled around the overflowing garbage can because I can't fucking put it inside the actual garbage. Take-out boxes sit on the table. The food that still lies in them moldy, and swarmed by fruit flies. There are patches of unknown sticky substances on the counters and floors.

I don't even want to know what it is.

The blinds are pulled down over the large windows, leaving no natural light to enter the house. I am to reside in complete darkness.

I can not live in this fucking mess anymore.

Leaning over the counter, my head is in my hands. I am thinking of Gia. She has made my head her new home ever since I left. I think about her so much that I'm starting to hate her.

No, I could never hate her.

I didn't want to admit it to myself but since I think about her 24/7 there are no more excuses I can use.

I need her.

I've never missed someone so much. I feel empty in a heavy way.

Sometimes I wish that my heart would just stop working all together. I wish that I could just collapse and stay immobile on the floor, my body slowly dying Infront of my own life-less eyes. I don't want to suffer any pain. I just want the lights to flick out, leaving my head blank and my vision black. All of life's problems and anxieties floating away from my body, leaving me a soul-less spirit.

I look to my wrist. The semicolon stares back at me.

A writer uses the semicolon when a sentence could've ended, but didn't.

I slipped a hand into my pocket and pulled out the small tin container. Picked up the shortened blunt and put it in-between my lips, lighting it.

Breathing a long drag until my lungs feel empty and my body a little lighter. I revelled in the sensation.

After my dad passed I was devastated. I felt completely shattered. My life fell apart Infront of me. I wasn't able to live the same for so long. The feeling of losing my best friend, my guide, the man who raised me, soon turned too much.

One night, at the age of 15, I sat silent in my room. Completely numb. Not a single tear emitted from my red eyes. I was higher than a fucking kite. My head pounded and the room was spinning around me.

I knew my intentions as I sat there. My mom was asleep and the house was silent. I got up and locked my bedroom door. I didn't want anybody to find me. I was determined that my life was to end that day and I wasn't going to allow anybody to stop me from committing to it.

Rummaging through the drawer on my bedside, I pulled out the plastic container that held my fate. Dumping basically the whole container in my hand. I threw the tiny, white pills into my mouth and gulped them down by the help of water. I lay paralyzed in the small bed and waited until my eyes slowly started to close. My vision turned black and my body stilled.