Chapter 26 ~ I'm Gonna Die

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TRIGGER WARNING: R*PE, SELF HARM, SUICIDE

     I ran back to the house, not wanting to waste another second out here. The longer I was outside, the more angry Neil would get. I burst through the door, attempting to hide all my feelings.
     "Do you wanna explain why you were holding that girl's hand? AND THE FUCKING MUSIC, MAXINE," he yelled. I said nothing, holding my breath. I'd given up on fighting back. "THAT'S IT," he snapped, bashing me on the head with the bottle. It broke against my skull, the force of the blow knocking me to the floor. I tried to stand, but Neil kicked me in the side, causing me to yelp and fall back down. "Maybe this'll teach you to be a dyke in this household," Neil spat drunkenly, grabbing me by the arm and yanking me up the stairs with him.
     Terrified of what was to ensue, I began to pull away, attempting desperately to escape his grasp. I screamed, hoping that someone, anyone, would save me.
     But nobody else was home.
     Neil threw me into his room, causing me to stumble. In those few seconds, he slammed his bedroom door, flashing me an evil grin. I began to scream again as he forcefully pushed me down backside-up onto the bed. I twisted and turned, trying at anything to escape his grip, but he was too strong. He held me face down, forcefully pushing me against the bed with his knee, suffocating me with his weight. I gasped for air as I heard him pull his shirt off, then beginning to unzip his pants. I kicked and screamed, terrified for my life. With that, his hand came around to my face and he shoved his gross, fat thumb into my mouth, causing me to gag. That shut me up, and seemingly satisfied, Neil yanked my pants down. I continued to try to scream and cry, but each time I did so I gagged into Neil's thumb.
     I shut my eyes, breathing hard. I didn't want to see anything. I tried to think of happy things... I thought of Eleven, trying to pry my mind away from everything.
     It wasn't helping.
     I kept praying that this was just a dream, just an awful nightmare, and still just trying to think of El. If I just thought of El, everything would be ok. She would make everything ok. Everything would be ok. It had to be ok.

Later That Night
     Everything hurt.
     My head. My arm. My back. My core. Everything. The tears had yet to stop.
     I was pacing about my room, yanking out bits of my hair. My heart pounded loudly in my ears; it was all I could hear. Boom. Boom. Boom. It was driving me insane. I breathed heavily, the raspy breaths of air coming in and out unevenly.
     I felt like screaming.
I wanna die.
I wanna kill myself.
I wanna die.
     The thoughts kept running through my head. There was no stopping them.
Tears.
Pain.
Death.
     The thing I'd always been terrified of had finally happened.
Alone.
Afraid.
Angry.

     Everything I saw, I wanted to break. Even the picture of me and El, which usually brought me comfort, I wanted to rip to shreds.
Away.
Gone.
Death.

     The thoughts wouldn't stop. They just kept churning.
I wanna die.
I wanna die.
I wanna die.

     Neil had gone out after it happened. And now I'm just pacing my room.
It.
That's what it is.
Just It.
     I heard a loud noise suddenly. At first I couldn't tell what it was, but then I realized—
     It was me.
     I'd started screaming. And I couldn't stop. Not screaming like earlier, but screaming in pain. Disbelief. The unfairness of it all.
Grief.
Pain.
Death.
     I began breathing more heavily, running my hands through my hair and pulling it out.
Crazy.
Insane.
     That's what I was.
     I was going crazy. Insane.

     I looked to my bathroom.
Knife.
Blood.
Death.
     That's exactly how the thoughts came to my brain.
     I walked to the bathroom, opening the door and pulling the blade out of the bottom drawer.

Fuck it.
     I went at my wrists, digging deeper then I ever had.

Fuck it.
     I ran the blade down my cheeks. I wanted to see the blood. I wanted everyone to see the blood.

Fuck it.
     I stabbed the blade into my gut, keeling over. I let out a loud, agonizing wail, pulling the blade out of my stomach and letting it fall to the floor. I held onto the bathroom sink for support, but it was no use.
     I fell to the floor.

I wanna die.
I wanna die.
I'm gonna die.






Permission to hate me has been granted

Word Count: 932

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