Run Out of Emotion

Thirty.

*Devin's POV*

'Maybe you should have died that day.' 

Meredith's words ran through my head as I sat alone in the house. Seriously, fuck her. She fucking messed with my head. Goddamnit. She messed completely with my mind. 

How dare she? 

As the anger built up inside me, I knew exactly what I should do to calm down a bit. I went into my bedroom and searched in the wardrobe. Right at the back, I found a small pencil sharpener blade which was stained with blood. That was the blade that Meredith and I'd used to slit our wrists.

Maybe I should do it again. 

No. I'm not letting that bitch get what she wants. To see me die. 

But maybe I want to die. The only reason I didn't kill myself or cut was because I wanted to protect Meredith. Now she's gone forever. 

I slowly held the blade in my hand, and I felt my body begin to shake with anticipation. The blade slid down my arm, and the blood flowed. The feeling was almost orgasmic. 

Damn, I'd missed this. I'd missed this so bad.

Self-inflicted injury was my drug. It took all my willpower to stop cutting myself, but as soon as you feel the pain again even once, it gives you that ecstasy again. That overwhelming ecstasy that makes you feel high.

Over and over, I sank the blade in, getting deeper and more vigorous each time. Without hesitation, I let the small, silver blade take over my mind, body and soul. All those weeks of strength and trying to stop, were suddenly useless. 

Everything was useless. It didn't matter what happened anymore. I didn't care. 

Meredith was probably next door right now, getting loads of sympathy from Adrianna and Felix. That bitch was probably trying to make me look like the bad guy. Whatever. She didn't matter anymore. 

No one did. 

And it was at that moment, that I lost my mind. I ran into the kitchen and flung open the drawer. Adrenaline was pumping through my veins and I grabbed a roll of rope. A thick rope. Long enough to hold my bodyweight.

I don't know why I was doing it, but I was. My legs were carrying me down to the forest, ready to finally end my goddamn suffering, and feel some more pain, my favourite feeling.

It was like a demon was taking over my mind, forcing me to kill myself. This had happened before, but usually I could fight the demon and stay sane, but now I wasn't strong enough. 

I was a weak person. I deserved to die, and I was going to.