A/N Hey I'm starting out this account. I'm going to try and make the one shot interesting, however I struggle with writing you could say. Lol. Try to enjoy and not die from my immense amount of talent. (Warning: will contain self-harm. In fact, probably all of my stories will. If you self harm or are depressed or suicidal, don't be afraid to talk to me or someone. Please get help. Love you all.) Also, I'm writing this as I go along, so I don't know what will happen. I'm just going with it lol. This will sort of (not really) be based on the song The Last Night by Skillet. It's an amazing song. I apologize in advance for it sucking. Seriously I'm not kidding it's bad. I'm from the future.
He's gone. He left me by myself. I ruined everything. I ruined our friendship, and my chances of being with him. I feel the tears travel down my cheek, falling to the tiled floor. I pick up the blade again as I try to find more space on my forearms. I press the blade down, dragging it down against my skin, causing blood to drip down my forearms. Why did I tell him?
*Flashback* *cue sad music* *plays kid song instead*
I sat on my bed, waiting for Jerome. My mother disowned me for being gay. I needed someone, and Jerome was the first to come to mind. I told him she disowned me, however I didn't say why. I heard a knock on my door. I forced myself out of bed, unlocking the wooden door. Jerome quickly came in, wrapping his arms around me. I just sobbed into his chest, feeling weak.
"How are you holding up, Biggums?" Jerome's soft voice rang in my ears. I didn't respond, unable to speak. He walked me to my bed, both of us sinking into the mattress.
"Listen, Mitch. I know it's hard, but I'm always here for you. Because I care about you, a lot." His voice was shaky, and tears were forming in his eyes.
"J-jerome?" I choked out.
"What's up, Mitch?" And I did it. I don't know what I was thinking. I kissed my best friend. I stopped suddenly when I realized what I was doing.
"J-Jerome, I'm s-so sorry. P-please..." Jerome's face was mixed with shock and something unreadable.
"I-I just need time to think." Jerome stood up and walked out of my house. He walked out of my life. My only friend, now hating me because I expressed my feelings for him.
Now I'm just sitting, bleeding, hurting. I lost my family and my only friend in one day. No one is left in this world that cares about me. My father turned into a drunkard. Then a thought came to mind. Why not just stop all the hurting? Why not just kill myself tonight? Why should I keep on going? What am I fighting for? Nothing. I thought of the possible choices of 'relief'. Pills, a noose, a butcher knife, a gun, etc. I don't want anyone to hear the gunshot, nor do I want to break the ceiling with my obese body hanging from it. I sighed deeply, thinking of other ways. I suppose just cutting too deep is a possibility. Simple and it usually works, unlike pills. I push myself up, turning the faucet of the bathtub. Bleeding to death while the blood stains the water, what an idiotic way to go. Yet it was almost... A calm way to go. I grabbed one of the sharpest knives I had and placed it down next to the tub. Once the tub was filled, I stopped the water and stepped in, lying down. The water was warm. I didn't bother taking off my clothes, since I didn't want to see my horrible body. I grabbed the knife and held it in my hand.
For my father leaving me.
For my mother being a homophobe.
For the constant bullying.
For being gay.