'+ Forgive me .. Please +'

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|+| This again will not be the best because I'm so low on creativity

This will be an angsty story without a happy ending ..

TW - Alcohol Abuse, Self -harm , Self - Hatred and Suicide

2.8k Words

Enjoy ! |+|


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Oscar hoped that a turn around was coming for himself at McLaren with the fact that upgrades were coming soon, but with the way he thought McLaren was an up and coming team and they had proven they weren't in the place Oscar had expected, he had a gut feeling the team wouldn't be able to increase the performance very much. His first 11 races were poor, the car wasn't able to consistently make it past p15 and it made him feel like a failure and he was feeling a slight regret in signing with them instead of Alpine. The confidence that the young Aussie had felt after signing with McLaren slowly became a distant memory. Every time he sat in the papaya car he attempted to brace himself for a poor finish even if he tried is hardest to score even one point, but it never took the harsh reality of his underperformance away. The thought of not deserving the position he has in formula one still slowly creeping into the cracks that were formed over time.

The only one person who could relieve him from the failure he was feeling was his teammate Lando, The Brit was also in he same boat as him. The same struggles and disappointment as the Aussie. Oscar didn't tell him every thought he had though , Oscar is the type of person to bottle up his emotions and suffer in silence.

As a teenager he didn't exactly have anyone to talk to. Yes he had his parents but the Aussie didn't want them to worry about him and he had no friends to help him as he was more of an introverted boy. With no one around him to support him in his struggles, he landed in a deep hole and the only way he could relieve himself was to inflict damage to himself. it started with punching things like walls and desks, after a while it wasn't enough for him. The struggles were getting worse and the bruising wasn't enough anymore so he eventually moved to cuts and burns. Taking lighters to his skin or a blade to his wrists or thigh.

After a few years he made his way up to F2 and F1 reserve driver and he felt like it was time to stop, making sure he wasn't caught with his unhealth habit and it continued like that for a long time. That was the way it was, until now..

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The weekend that has just past , at the Redbull Ring Circuit in Austria. The whole weekend was a rollercoaster. From P17 in the Sprint shootout and managing to push the car to P11 in the Sprint. Then the race qualifying he managed P13, Which was decent for the state the McLaren Car was in but still disappointing, but things just went down hill when he finished P16 in the Sunday race.

The Aussie clambered out of the car and headed directly to his driver room in silence. When stepping into the cool room bitter disappointment flooded his mind. Pulling his helmet off his head followed by the sweaty fireproofs that clung to his body, mind racing about how much he must have underperformed and let down the team. Oscar grabbed his phone from his bag , which was lazily thrown on the floor before the race, pulling the black case off his phone and chucking it back into the bag. Now all that was left was the case in his hand, a shiny silver blade enticing him in. Oscar walked into the small bathroom, never taking his brown orbs of the little metal shard, he took a seat on the cold flooring of the bathroom. Tears rolled down his flushed cheeking, goosebumps rippling his skin as it pressed against the tile walls. Eyes still fixated on the blade.

'I have to do this' he urged himself silently 'I deserve this pain, I'm a failure to the team'

Salty tears flooding down his face as he pinched the blade from the phone case, holding it up to his bare skin with a shaky hand.

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