When one night changes everything ~ Rowdy

Chapter 8

Rowby-John Rodriguez' Point of View

30th June 2024

TW: Swearwords and selfharm

Fucking damn it! I ran my hand through my hair as I in anger kicked a rock. I groaned in annoyance as I clenched my fists. I honestly knew we didn't have a chance, but I still feel so pissed off by it. Okay let's wind the time back real quick. Just like 15 minuted back.

Me and Mensur entered the hotel room, after being absolutely battered by England in the final of World Cup. I'm honestly really happy that we made it that far, seeing as we didn't even make it past the group stage last year, having run into an amazingly playing Danish team. I was dissapointed that we lost, but England really did deserve it. I was trying my best to hide how sad I actually felt about losing that, and I was doing that successfully, 'cause else Mensur would have tried to cheer me up. Mensur... he really is the best person in the entire world. He is- or well, he was the only person who knew that I was getting abused when I was a kid. He let me move in with him as soon as I turned 18, and in return, I helped with pretty much everything in both his house and pub. Yes, he owns a pub, called 'the gentle', like his nickname. If you don't believe me, just search for it. Anyways, back to what was happening. "I need to go clear my head real' quick." I said with a depressing sigh. "Oh? Are you okay?" he asked, carefully patting me on the back. I smiled and nodded. "Just go to sleep, I'll be out for a while. I just need some fresh air." I said, trying my best to sound like everything was and would be totally fine. He nodded- and that leads us back to reality.

I felt my hands shaking, and my head spinning. For fuck sake Rowby, couldn't you have played better in that fucking final??? My brain kept telling me a bunch of things, like 'it's my fault' or 'Rusty could have done better than you'. My idiotic parents had yelled those kind of things at me, so I'd always have voices in my head telling me those things now when I'm older. And that is the worst thing ever. "I can't take it anymore." I said to myself, my voice cracking in the process. I reached down into my pocket, knowing that I always carried it with me. It was in case that I wanted to feel something again, or even deciding to never feel anything again. It was dark, and the street was empty. I could barely see anything, only a single streetlight lighting up the street. Just enough light to reflect on the knife I was holding in my hand. I held it up to my throat, thinking about all the things I could do to myself. But I didn't want to die. I have Luke now... Rowby, you have to hold on for your boyfriends sake... This is the way I fight everyday, to stay alive or not. But now... I have everything I need, and I shouldn't ruin that. But I still need to feel something. I slowly brought it down towards mt wrist, gently pressing the blade up against my wrist. And before I knew of it, the blood was pouring out of my wrist. I sighed and stuffed my hand into my pocket, walking back towards the hotel. I'll patch it up when I'm back, and no one is going to notice a damn thing.