Gravitation Fan Fiction ❯ The Disasters Brought By Free Time and Neglect ❯ 06 ( Chapter 6 )

Hello. Let me start by first saying that this is NOT the last chapter, and that I do NOT own Gravitation. Just so you know. Thank goodness that's over. Anyway, I hope you're all enjoying yourselves so far, lord knows I am. There are a few twists this chapter, some you were expecting and probably a few you weren't, but here's to hoping you're enjoying reading this as much as I'm enjoying writing it. To all of my reviewers, you are the reason I didn't just give up hope at chapter two, and I'm sure you're also the reason that I'm failing math, so either way, I thank you from the bottom of my heart, even if it is three sizes too small sometimes. I'm rambling again aren't I? Well, on with the show!

 

Chapter 6

 

I woke up the next morning feeling sore in all the wrong places: head, neck, ass, but especially my ribs. It's weird when you first wake up, and for a few brief seconds you have no idea who you are or what you're doing, only that you're alive and that sleep feels nice and warm and you'd like to stay there for as long as possible because in the protected shell of you own mind, everything is soft and blurred and you no longer have to think about anything at all. But nonetheless, once you open your eyes you just can't bring yourself to close them again, because already those quiet parts of your mind start whispering their secrets to you, filling you up with an identity that lasts the rest of the day. I wanted to stay asleep, I desperately tried to, but once my eyes slowly forced their way open, I couldn't escape what lay before me, or more importantly, who.

Yuki's head was resting on my shoulder, and he had an arm thrown over the rest of my body, keeping me pinned to the floor. He looked… peaceful. Sweet. Like a lost little boy whose only comfort is his teddy bear, which he isn't about to let go of. It took me a while to stop watching him, but once my mind was fully awake, I realized that it appeared that I was his teddy bear, which really didn't bode well for either of us. I sighed and pet his hair, amused when he snuggled closer, legs tangling with mine. I had to get out of here. This was the cruelest torture I'd ever experienced, worse even than when Aizawa… I wasn't going to think about that right then. I was stronger than this, and I knew full well that last night shouldn't have happened, but it did, and I had to accept responsibility.

I tried to slip away like the coward that I am, but my movement only served to wake Yuki, and I froze when he mumbled my name. From his tone he was obviously annoyed that I'd woken him up, plus his hangover wasn't helping his mood, but he tightened his arms around me, possessively. I yelped in response, pushing him roughly away and rubbing at my ribs, before he angrily asked me what the hell was wrong with me, fully awake. I gave him a glare and told him that squeezing someone with broken ribs was probably the best fucking idea he'd ever had, but I was interrupted in my tirade when Yuki grabbed my wrist tightly and asked me about my ribs in disbelief. I looked at him like he was stupid and told him that Tohma did it, obviously, before mumbling that he probably thought I was stupid enough to break my ribs myself. I would have gone on, but Yuki's eyes were really intense, and he whispered Tohma's name, before telling me that Tohma'd just told him that he'd gotten out of control and hit me. I told him that Tohma had a habit for making understatements, and that perhaps by “hit” he'd actually meant “put me in the hospital for a little more than a day.”

Yuki paled at the word “hospital,” before this look of extreme guilt passed over his face. He schooled his features again, before telling me that if he'd known I was in the hospital, he would have come to see me. I told him that it was typical that it would take a trip to the hospital for him to come and see me, and he glared at me, looking betrayed. I sat up, blowing my hair out of my face, before putting a hand on his shoulder and telling him that I'd only been there for a day, and it wasn't even that serious, so he shouldn't beat himself up over it. He looked offended that I even suggested that he'd ever “beat himself up” over anything concerning our relationship, so I just gave up trying to talk to him about that whole mess, and instead started looking for my clothes. He grabbed my arm and asked me what I was doing, and I told him that I was trying to find my fucking underwear so that I wouldn't completely offend Tohma when he found me here. Yuki relaxed a little, and I went about putting on my clothes while he fished his cigarettes out from underneath the bed. I smiled in spite of myself. I knew Yuki wouldn't give up his smokes, not even for Tohma. At least I'd been right about that.

Once dressed, I sat near him on the floor, watching the smoke drift lazily around the room. I stared at my feet and he stared at the ceiling, and I silently prayed for something, anything to break the silence. I was surprised when Yuki was the first to speak. He asked me how my new CD was coming. I told him everything was fine and we fell into another uncomfortable silence. I suppose that was his way of trying to get me to talk, so now that the ball was in my court, I asked him why he was living with Tohma. I suppose it wasn't the question he was expecting from the way he almost dropped his cigarette, but he said that he'd had to leave the apartment because he was taking a break from his latest book and his editor wouldn't leave him alone, so Tohma had offered him a place to stay. I hugged my knees and told him that it was funny that for once he'd finally had enough silence to write, so he'd decided to take a break. He gave me a cold stare and told me not to flatter myself, and I told him that I was incapable of flattering myself since he'd always taken such careful measures to make me feel as stupid and insignificant as possible.

He got angry then, before telling me that real people didn't spout shitty poetry to each other all the time or write love songs or buy each other flowers, so I should stop living in my delusions and quit blaming everything on him just because he didn't spend every waking moment focused on me. I told him that he was an idiot, and he told me that that was rich, coming from someone like me. I asked him then whether or not he was finished attacking my self-esteem, before I told him that it was pointless to remind me that I was stupid, because I was already fully aware of that fact. We both fell silent again, before I asked him weakly if he ever thought about me at all. He got offended again and glared, before I went back to looking at my feet. I really couldn't leave well enough alone though, and before I knew it I asked him how many dates he'd had since I'd been gone. He looked ready to hit me, hell I was impressed that he didn't hit me, before he hissed that not only was it “none of my business,” but at least he didn't have to pay people to sleep with him. I asked him what the fuck he meant by that, before he rolled his eyes and told me that I knew what he meant. I told him that we'd already established that I was stupid, so he might as well spell it out for me, so he finally replied scathingly that he'd seen me pick up that waiter the night before, and if I hadn't been preoccupied with taking Yuki here, I'd have gone off to warm the bed of that obsessive fanboy.

I wanted to strangle him. He'd… he'd only gotten drunk as an excuse to keep me away from someone who he thought I was interested in. He didn't care, he simply DID NOT CARE, not about me, or our relationship, or anything that even remotely had to do with me. He just wanted me to be as miserable as he was. I was seething, and I clenched my fists in rage before I asked him if he really thought I was that much of a slut. He had the balls to tell me to prove him wrong. I stood up and told him matter-of-factly that I hadn't been with anyone since we stopped seeing each other, and he grabbed a blanket to wrap around his waist before standing and asking me what the fuck was going on between me and ASK. I was completely flabbergasted by that one, so I told him to just write me a list of all the people he wanted to accuse me of sleeping with, and I'd get back to him. He grabbed my shoulder and squeezed painfully, before murmuring in a low growl that he just didn't know with me anymore. I told him that it was only fair, since I never knew with him to begin with.

He squeezed harder and asked me point-blank how many people I'd slept with, and I told him for the second time that I wasn't some slut who fucked people for the fun of it. I asked him if he'd completely forgotten who I was in the short time that I was gone, and I told him that he knew for a fact that I only slept with people I was attached to. He then asked me, in a voice that seemed more tired and small than anything else, why I'd slept with him. I wanted to bang my head repeatedly against the wall, but instead I shouted at him that he was dumber than I was if he couldn't see that I was attached to him. He yelled back that, in general, people who're attached to each other don't up-and-fucking-leave without even giving a reason. It went on like that for a while, Yuki and I standing in the middle of Tohma's guest room shouting at each other, until I told Yuki that I wasn't going to do this anymore, and I tried to leave. He grabbed both of my shoulders and told me dangerously that he wasn't finished talking to me, and I glared at him and told him to let me go because I wasn't going to do this anymore.

In one fluid motion Yuki pushed me to the bed and pinned me there, hovering over me looking uncertain. I looked up into his droopy golden eyes and quickly looked away, hating how helpless he made me feel, but he wouldn't let me avert my gaze. Instead he gently turned my head until our eyes met. I didn't know what he wanted, I don't think I ever knew what he wanted, and I was sick of being led on a wild goose chase trying desperately to figure him out. I opened my mouth, but he put a finger to my lips to silence me. His gaze was intense, and I remembered how much I loved him at that moment; his tired eyes, his lips and all the cruel things they'd whispered to me, his high cheekbones and sharp chin, the way his brow furrowed when he was couldn't figure out what to write, and the thousand other things that I could recall simply by looking at his face. He studied me carefully, and he loosened his grip on me, carefully bringing his hand up to brush the hair out of my eyes. I sighed into the touch out of habit, and I opened my eyes only to find his lips nearly touching my own. Quietly, he whispered, “You still love me, don't you.”

It wasn't a question. He knew, we both knew how I really felt for him, and I suddenly felt panicked and vulnerable, as though all of my secrets had been bared for the world to see. I had created an illusion that had been fool-proof, I'd managed to convince myself that I couldn't possibly love Yuki because he deserved something better, because I deserved something better, until Yuki had seen right through me again. I loved Yuki, I loved him with more ferocity than I loved anything else in the world, but I was destroying him, and myself in the process. I was trying to be selfish and selfless all at once by just letting him go, but I couldn't, I couldn't because I was too weak to stop myself.

He kissed me again, softly and slowly and carefully, as though he was afraid he'd taken his bitter coldness too far this time, and I would shatter like glass if he even breathed wrong. I was tired of being treated like something precious, tired of being treated like some thing, like someone's decoration that sings if you pull the right strings, and most of all I was tired of being a possession of the people around me. I wasn't made of glass, I wasn't made of cloth or tin or plastic or clay or stone, I was made of blood and bone and flesh and I was my own person, and I had to show them all that I was capable of living on my own without anyone to look out for me. Yuki would only tie us both down, and we'd be miserable if we were together. I wanted him to be happy. If I couldn't have anything else, I just wanted him to be happy, and he'd already shown that I wasn't capable of giving him that.

I pushed him away and stood up, finally finding the strength that I'd been missing the night before. He looked at me, sprawled out on the bed like a fallen angel, eyes begging me for something that I couldn't give him anymore. I held onto the bedpost, afraid for a moment that I was going to cave in and crumble into his arms, before I whispered a goodbye and fled the room. I don't know if he called my name because I couldn't stop running, and before I knew it I was lost in one of the long corridors of Tohma's mansion, somewhere on the first floor. I ran out of energy and leaned against the wall, trying to catch my breath and keep myself from crying at the same time, when I heard a soft noise from inside the room to my right. Someone was singing. Drawn to the siren song, I walked in front of the door and was as shocked to see Tohma singing gently to rock little Eiri to sleep, as he was to see me. I wondered what he must think of me, wearing yesterday's clothes that were covered in flecks of dried blood, hair in complete disarray, but he simply stood, still rocking his child, and waited for me to say something.

I mumbled a small hello, and he replied with the same, before I asked him how he was doing. He gave me standard answers, all the while looking very protective and somewhat nervous. I sighed, tired of dancing around it, before I told him how sorry I was for saying those things about him. I told him I had been wrong, and he had every right to react the way he did, and I even told him that I hadn't been taking this whole business with Yuki very well and I'd acted immaturely. He looked surprised, and he told me he understood, before he asked me if I'd finally resolved things with Yuki. I told him I had, and he looked very relieved, even going so far as to give me a small smile. I smiled back, and before I told him softly that he'd finally won, and I hoped that he'd be happy now. He seemed confused, and I told him that Eiri was going to grow into a wonderful human being, just like his father, before turning around to leave. He called my name, but whatever else he had to say died on his lips. I told him to take care of Yuki, before I took off down the hallway running.

It took me the better part of ten minutes trying to find my way back to the entrance, and I was sweaty and depressed by the time I walked through the large double doors. Reaching into my pocket, I took out my cell phone and called a taxi, and then I took the long walk to the end of Tohma's driveway. I didn't have to wait long for the taxi to arrive, and I instructed him to drop me off at my apartment. I felt frayed beyond function by the time I arrived there, and I went to bed as soon as I walked in, not bothering to remove my dirty clothes or check the messages on my answering machine. I wasn't sure what time I woke up again, but I finally took a shower and started going about my daily routine.

I hadn't expected closure to feel so empty. I had no Tohma to fear, because I no longer cared whether he hated me or not, and I didn't have to walk on eggshells for Yuki anymore. My apartment was suffocating in its silence, and I had the television on all the time in order to pretend that I wasn't alone. Work was the same, day after day, week after week, and before I knew it we were a week away from debuting our new single. It was strange; I was writing more now than I ever had before, and Hiro and Suguru said that my lyrics were the best I'd ever written, but they felt flawed and lifeless to my own ears. I just didn't have the heart to tell them how I felt, I couldn't stop lying to them now that I'd started, and I didn't want them to worry about me anymore. I had become everyone's burden, but I wasn't going to let them be my victims any longer. I bottled everything up even more than I had before, and when I was at work I was all sunshine and daisies. Hiro seemed to be glad that he could focus more on his family now that I had reverted to my former enthusiastic self, and Suguru was just relieved that we were back on schedule. I sang like I never had before, pouring everything that was left of me into making our CD, in my desperate attempt to make it far better than the last one we'd released. Somewhere in the darker parts of my mind I wanted to send Yuki some flowers, if only to thank him for teaching me about what love is really like, but I only thought like that when I wasn't preoccupied. My apartment only served to remind me of Yuki, so sometimes I slept on one of the couches in the NG building. Hiro nearly caught me when he noticed I was wearing the same outfit two days in a row, so after that incident I always came to work with a spare pair of clothes in my backpack.

Whenever I couldn't sleep at work, I would go out clubbing and either get drunk enough to fall asleep as soon as I got home, or exhausted enough from dancing, though most often it was a combination of the two. I guess I started losing weight after that, so I alternated between eating everything in sight and not eating anything at all, which probably wasn't helping me much, especially since I was practically working myself to death anyway. Ma-kun called me to talk every now and again, and I was actually really glad when he told me that Aizawa was happier than he'd been in all the time Ma-kun had known him. I was really starting to like Ma-kun; he was just a nice guy who was willing to stay beside, and fight for, his friends and his beliefs. He reminded me a lot of Hiro, in that “best friend you'll ever have” kind of way. I liked talking to him, but sometimes he called me when I'd had a little too much to drink, so I'm sure we had some awkward conversations. I can't really tell because I have a habit of erasing all of my bad memories and never speaking of them again.

Despite the fact that my love life was virtually nonexistent, everything else was going well, or at least better than it had been. Our single was due out in a week, and the CD would be finished shortly after that, so I was actually getting pretty excited. We played a few concerts and a charity thing in order to get publicity, and I was relieved when K told us he was already organizing our next tour, which would probably kick off during the summer. I desperately wanted to get out of Tokyo for a while, and it had been ages since I'd been on tour. It would be nice to hang out with Hiro, K and Suguru again, just us guys, making asses of ourselves in the back of a tour bus and making the airline stewardesses uncomfortable, irritated, and turned on all at the same time. Speaking of Hiro and Suguru, they'd found out about the Yuki incident from a tabloid the day after the party, and the improvement in my mood probably made them assume that Yuki and I were back together again. They never brought it up, though, probably thinking that if Yuki and I weren't actually back together, it would upset me. Which, thinking back on it, it would have. I mean honestly, can't I go one freaking minute without being bombarded with things that only rub in the fact that yes, I'm no longer seeing Yuki? Perhaps leaving Japan would be just what I needed, and maybe there's a magical place out there that's never heard of Uesugi Eiri.

We did a free concert in the park the day our single debuted, and the turnout was tremendous. Thousands of people crowded up to our little stage to hear us play, and it was as though for a few brief moments, the whole world had stopped just for me. People who passed by on their way to school or work paused, only to be sucked into the crowd of screaming fans. I was the king, I was on top of the world, and there wasn't anything that could possibly bring me down. For once, things in my life were looking up. I could just see it now, our CD going triple platinum and being a huge hit all over the world, my tour being extended indefinitely because I was in such high demand, I could hop from continent, and everywhere I'd go people would know my name, praising me for my touching lyrics and ethereal vocals. By the time we went left the park that night, I was completely drunk on my own fame, and I walked into the NG building grinning like a moron, feeling giddy knowing that we'd probably already debuted at number one on that week's charts.

I strutted into the small staff room where we usually watched television, but Hiro and Suguru were standing up, blocking my view of the screen. I asked them to move playfully, shoving Suguru in the arm, before I saw their grim faces. I could tell Hiro was trying to protect me from what I would find, but I wouldn't let him, shoving them both aside in a panic. I stared at the screen in disbelief. Securely in the number one slot on the charts was ASK, beating out Bad Luck with the single that they'd also released today. I wanted to vomit. I think I probably did a little bit, in my mouth. This… was impossible. ASK's single wasn't due out until two months from now. I'd… I'd even talked to Ma-kun about it, about how they were doing. I'd told him about our own progress, and about how much I was enjoying their music now that they were back in the business, and I'd told him about our single and when it was going to be released…

Oh Dear God.

They'd betrayed me. They'd used Ma-kun, sweet, seemingly innocent Ma-kun, and they'd done everything in their power to counter the success of Bad Luck's single. I'd been used again, tricked by that bastard and his cronies, and he'd finally beaten me, fair and square. I'd given him the chance to surpass me, naively thinking that he'd be incapable of doing it because I was Shuichi Shindou, singer of the untouchable Bad Luck, but he had, he had and it was all my doing. I was dying at the hands of my own monster. Suddenly I was back in that dirty parking garage, cornered by Aizawa with his demon eyes and murderer's smile, about to be raped, beaten, and left to die. Alone, alone with the eyes that haunted my dreams and the hands that tore at my skin and smothered my soul and ruined me for Yuki… for Yuki, who wouldn't come for me. For Yuki, who I couldn't protect, even when I tried. For Yuki, who didn't love me.

I woke up fifteen minutes later, propped in an office chair, with K, Hiro, and Suguru making desperate attempts to awaken me. I finally sat up weakly and asked for a glass of water, before I was assaulted by their prying questions. Hiro started going on and on, choking me with his kindness, and Suguru kept telling me that one number two debut wasn't going to kill us, and we could just work harder next time. I couldn't think, couldn't breathe with all of them trying to pull all of the answers out of me like crows tearing the straw out of a scarecrow. I wished I'd never woken up. My patience broke, and I can't really remember what happened next but suddenly I was screaming at the top of my lungs, telling them to get the fuck off and leave me alone, among other things. The next thing I knew I was pushing them all out of the way and running out of the building, grabbing the next taxi I saw and heading back to my apartment. As far as I could tell, I was still screaming, even though my voice had given out a long time ago.

My phone was ringing when I walked in the door, so I stalked over to it and tore the phone line out of the wall, before I threw it across the room. My cell phone went off next, so I tore open the sliding doors and tossed it off the balcony, watching in satisfaction as it smashed the windshield of an expensive car parked on the street below. I locked my door, and then locked it again with a combination lock I'd had in my apartment, before I pushed my couch up against it, suddenly paranoid. I just couldn't see anyone right then, and I'd be damned if I was going to make it easy for them to come and get me. Once I'd calmed down, I suddenly became very afraid. I was alone in my apartment, but everything was so dark, the lights in my bedroom weren't on and I was afraid that there was someone hiding, waiting for the precise moment when I let my guard down to get to me and put me through Aizawa's version of my own personal hell over and over again. I went through every room and turned on all the lights, but I still felt as though someone was watching me, so I threw open my closest doors and opened every cabinet, and for good measure I even overturned all the drawers in my apartment, not caring that I'd strewn their contents everywhere. Once I was finished, I stood panting in the kitchen surrounded by miscellaneous cooking equipment, before my skin started to crawl. I felt like I was being touched all over, and it was all I could do to make it to the bathroom before I threw up.

I don't know what time it was when I finally got my stomach under control. It seemed like I was retching into the toilet for hours, gagging and hyperventilating at the same time, unable to get the feel of hands off of my skin. I clung weakly to the toilet bowl, pushing myself up before I stumbled into the shower, clothes, shoes, coat and all, and turned the water on as hot as it would go. I began stripping off my wet things once they became too heavy and started to weigh me down, pushing me slowly to the floor, the feeling of searching, tearing hands suddenly back with full force. I ripped off what was left and threw it across the room, afraid that they'd been the source of the touching, but I couldn't get the feeling to go away. I scrubbed at my skin with a bar of soap, and then with the loofa, but nothing could make the hands stop. Smothering a scream, I finally resorted to using my fingernails, tearing at my skin and praying that this horrible feeling would subside. I cried, long and hard, into the spray of the shower.

The feeling finally passed, and I dropped to my knees in exhaustion and relief. I must have stayed like that for hours; by the time I realized where I was, the water was frigid and I was covered in wrinkles. I didn't mind the cold, so I just sat back and hugged my knees, singing softly to myself. I thought I heard noises coming from my kitchen, so I shut my eyes tight and sang as loud as I could, the first song that came to mind. By the time I got out of the shower I was shivering, but I walked around my apartment again, just to make sure no one was there. I crumpled to the floor, cold and naked, before I opened my refrigerator and grabbed the first alcoholic thing I could find, pressing it to my lips and drinking as much as I could. I couldn't think. I knew I couldn't think. If I even started thinking for one minute, I'd do something drastic, and I didn't want to. I had to keep busy, I had to stay occupied, I couldn't fall asleep and I couldn't stay awake and I had to get too drunk to be capable of thinking.

I was well on my way to that point, stumbling around my apartment without any clothes on after the second bottle of whatever was in my fridge, singing something familiar and easy. I spent a good part of the evening trying to figure out what song it was, though sometimes I mixed it up a little and tried to figure out how the lyrics went, but when in doubt, I just made things up. I finally figured it out when I walked into my pile of CD's and fell over, bringing the whole thing down onto my lap. I clumsily read each title, trying to put them back in order, when I picked up my ASK CD. Here was the song that I'd been butchering all night. I would have thrown up again, but I just settled for hugging the CD and sobbing, feeling betrayed and alone. How could they do this to me? I'd made them, I'd MADE them! They owed me EVERYTHING!! Did they honestly thing ANYONE would have EVER given them a second chance if it hadn't been for me?!

Still shivering, I weakly tossed the CD away, sick of looking at their fake smiles and their lies, all dedicated to me. I wanted to hate them, but I couldn't. I wanted to hate Yuki, but I couldn't. The only one I had to blame was myself. I'd done this, I'd made ASK into a band that was perfectly capable of destroying Bad Luck, I'd pushed everyone away, and then I felt sorry for myself when I ended up alone. Pathetic. Utterly, utterly pathetic. I wiped at my eyes, angry at my tears, but that only made me cry harder. I wasn't the best musician ever. I wasn't the best singer, or the best writer, or the best brother, or the best son, and I sure as hell wasn't the best lover. I wasn't even good at being any of those things. I was just a klutz, an idiot, a phenomenal waste of skin and air, and the worst coward I'd ever seen. I stood up stumbling into my kitchen, snatching a sharp knife from the floor. I didn't want to be a coward anymore. I didn't want to be anything anymore.

I wanted to write them a note, something, anything to explain what I was doing, to give them some closure. I wanted to tell Hiro that he was the best friend anyone could ever have, and that Ayaka and Tomoko were lucky to have someone like him. I wanted to tell Suguru that he was better than Tohma could ever possibly be, I wanted to tell K how much I loved his friendship, even if he was a gun-crazed American pig. I wanted to tell Ryuichi and Tatsuha that I loved them both dearly, but I loved them even more now that they'd finally found each other. I should have written to my parents, told them that it wasn't their fault, told Maiko how beautiful and charming she was. I wanted to tell ASK that they should be proud of finally beating Bad Luck, that I wanted them to keep chasing their dreams, and that I was so glad that Aizawa and Ma-kun had each other. I should have told Yuki that I loved him, more than anything in the whole world, and that he couldn't have stopped me. More than anything I wanted to tell Tohma that he'd won, he'd finally won, and I had nothing, nothing, just like he'd always wanted. I wanted to tell him that he should be completely and blissfully happy, because he was right about me, I was a screw up, a failure at even living my own life, and he could finally keep Yuki safe, safe from everything that I inflicted upon him. You win Tohma. Now pick up the pieces for me, because I can't do it anymore.

I wracked my brain, trying to remember how I was supposed to go about it, before I held the blade vertically to my left wrist and pushed. Everything happened all at once, I was crying and screaming and bleeding and holy CRAP did my arm hurt. Whoever said cutting themselves is a fun way to get high on adrenaline was seriously disturbed. After getting blood all over everything I dragged myself to the kitchen sink and wrapped a bunch of paper towels around my arm, suddenly amused that I was being a coward again, only this time I was too afraid to kill myself properly because it hurt too much. God, I really was an idiot. I taped the paper towels to the wound with some electrical tape I found lying around, before the blood loss started going to my head. I got pretty dizzy and stumbled into my bedroom, throwing on a pair of pajama pants and ripping the sheets off of my bed. If I was going to be such a baby about a little bit of pain, then I was going to find some other way to go about this.

I drunkenly tied two white sheets to my arms, this time determined. If there's one thing about me that only gets worse when I'm drunk, it's that when I get an idea in my head I'm even more stubborn about going through with it no matter what. I walked back through the wreck that was my apartment and walked out onto the balcony, leaning over the edge to look at the busy street, stories and stories below me. I chuckled to myself. If my phone had broken that guy's windshield, I wondered what I'd do to his precious car? I carefully climbed up onto the railing and stood, toes curled over the edge to keep myself balanced. The wind felt nice against my cheek, and it tousled my hair and gave life to my makeshift wings. What can I say? I'm just dramatic that way. I breathed in deeply, feeling oddly at peace, which was due more to the blood loss than anything else, before I closed my eyes and lifted my arms, whispering softly to the night air.

“I am nothing.”