Ada's Story - Kinnporsche Universe

Chapter 18 - Emptiness

The next weeks passed very slowly, in the hospital, my body healing, my mind collapsing more and more everyday.
My dad tried to cheer me up, to distract me, but it was all useless.
My brothers and cousins tried too, but I was completely absent from their reality, I was lost in my despair, void and darkness surrounding me.

When I came back home, my superficial wounds healed almost completely, my nose was still swollen and bruised due to the rhinoplasty they did to fix it, all my splinters were taken off and the scars were still fresh and tight, my jaw and teeth were weak, but I could eat soft food, my leg was aching, the hole closed, but the damage inside was done, leaving me walking with crutches.
I felt weak and pathetic, with everyone pitying me and trying to help me with basic needs, like eating, walking, getting up from bed, and so on.
I felt even weaker every time I remembered the way I couldn’t do anything to help my Tasanee, the way I let them kill her so relentlessly, so sadistically.
I cried everyday, to the point of not having any tears left to shed, eyes dry, chest aching due to the big piece of it that was taken away when I saw her still, restrained dead body resting on that chair.
I didn’t leave my room for about two or three months, during which my body healed almost completely, but my leg still needed support to walk.

Right after coming back home, the voices started to come back, those fucking suicidal voices.
I was always in my room, listening to them like a lullaby, never giving in because I didn’t have the strength to do so.
They told me to jump off a window, to starve until my body gave up, to hang myself, to cut my arms open, finishing what I wasn’t capable of doing the last time, to shoot myself, in the head, in the mouth, on the heart, on every vital organ.
They also started to suggest me to torture myself from time to time, in order to make up for my failed attempt to protect Tasanee, cutting myself lightly, scraping just the surface of the skin, to scratch my skin violently, to put pressure on my aching wounds.
They never stopped, they were like a broken record, making me want to bang my head on the walls, which sometimes I did, my forehead occasionally bleeding.
The only times they were a bit more subtle were when I was with my brothers and cousins, playing, watching tv or a movie, when they brought me food in bed, when they smiled at me and hugged me to cheer me up, when they brought me flowers picked up from the big garden we have, when they knocked at my door, asking if they could come in, just for them to have a dvd in their little hands, suggesting we watched a movie.
They were my only happiness in the abyss I was in. Even Korn made me think about what happened that night, because he was there at some point, so their innocence, their little smiley faces, their enthusiasm brought me a tiny sparkle of goy no one could anymore.
But it wasn’t enough.

My life was a boring and aching routine that went on and on, my brain everyday more detached from reality, my eyes staring at the void, the only thing clear to me were those voices.
The only time I exited the house was to go to the temple and talk to Tasanee’s picture, her smiling face staring into my soul.
I remember sitting there for a few hours, sometimes just crying, other times talking and talking, apologizing, narrating my miserable life to Tasanee, letting her know that I was a disaster, sometimes telling her that I was going to kill myself soon, in order to stay with her once again.
I tried to kill myself a lot of times during those months of suffering, but everytime I tried, someone or something interrupted me, distracting me and making me realize what I was really doing.
One time it was Macau’s voice, calling me from outside my bedroom, where I was tightening a slipknot to the ceiling, another was Kim that needed to use the bathroom where I was about to cut my wrists open.
Everytime I ended up stopping and bursting out in tears, in silence, in order not to make them worry for their big sister.

Months went on like this, with me trying to end my suffering every weekend, but always failing.
I felt stupid and weak, I felt like it was the only option to demonstrate to Tasanee that I was sorry.
So I decided that I would’ve done it on my 20th birthday. That day or never again
I decided to do it in my bathroom, inside the bathtub, shooting myself in the forehead with the first gun I could find in the house.