𝐑𝐞𝐦𝐲'𝐬 𝐂𝐇 𝐝𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐥𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤 :]

𝐔𝐧𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫. |☆🇬🇧🫀

𓆝 𓆜 ----------------┊⁀➷

𝗦𝗼𝗻𝗴𝘀: Rain by Jack Strauber, People eater by Sodikken, Misery Meat by Sodikken, Just take my Wallet by Jack Strauber

𝗧𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗴𝗲𝗿 𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: Abuse, family problems, God complex, Schizophrenia, Cannibalism (graphic description), Bulimia (graphic description), religious trauma (?)

𝐓𝐞𝐱𝐭 = prayer/inner monologue

𝖳𝗁𝗂𝗋𝖽 𝗉𝗈𝗏, 𝖴𝖪 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝖻𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝖿𝖾𝗋𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝖺𝗌 𝗁𝖾/𝗁𝗂𝗆

⚠️This is a vent. This is not meant for entertainment purposes, but to find a way to deal with the thoughts I have on a daily basis. I have BPD and come from an abusive family. The topics in this chapter are extremely heavy and explained in great detail. If you are uncomfortable with this in any kind of way, please don't read this.⚠️

Disclaimer: The TWs say "Schizophrenia" and not "BPD/Borderline Episode/personality disorder" because I was misdiagnosed with a Schizotypical disorder Also, please note that just because someone has a personality disorder/Schizophrenia does not make them a dangerous or bad person. We didn't choose it. Please be respectful in the comments. This is merely based on my thoughts. It does not apply to every single Borderliner/Schizophrenic person.

𓆝 𓆜 ----------------┊⁀➷

UK's shivering body was bent over, blood running down his chin and dropping onto the marble white grounded floor.

𝐋𝐨𝐫𝐝, 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐈 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐝.

With his face deeply buried in the body on the floor, teeth digging into the soft flesh only to rip his head back with enough force to tear the exposed meat apart, he whispered prayers to himself in his head.

UK threw his head back in his neck, gulping down a piece of flesh in one bite without chewing, like a wild animal.
Blood poured down his chin, his throat until it reached his chest, his stomach, and even his abdomen.
It felt like a cold, red river that slowly forced its way down his body, destroying any borders in its way.

The boy breathed out heavily, falling down on his side next to the sliced open corpse.
"Mum..."
UK whispered softly and stroked the cheek of the now dead thing that once was his oh so beloved mother.
"Mommy..."
He whispered, a bit louder this time.
His voice was stained with tears, just like his cheeks, which were covered in his mother's blood.
The tears washed some of the blood away, leaving clear paths of the way they went down his face.

Why had he done this?
Why would he kill the woman he had adored so much?
Why had he slid the throat of the woman who birthed him open, leaving her to bleed the carpet and marble floor of the church red?

UK whined loudly, like a small child that was left alone.
He sat up, looking around in the empty house of God.
The boy's lips started to tremble slightly, just like the ones of a child mere seconds before it would break down crying.

𝐌𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐲, 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐢𝐧?
𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐩𝐫𝐚𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬?
𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐌𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧?
𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐩 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐞?

Suddenly, UK flinched away from the corpse, his stomach feeling too full to hold anything in it.
He stood up and ran outside the church, leaving a bloody mess of cracked bones and misplaced organs back.

Right there, in front of the eyes of God and the stairs of the church, he stuck his fingers down his throat, making him gawk and his eyes teary again.
He repeated the motion over and over again until he threw up.

It felt... weirdly relieving.
Like finally being free from a heavy burden.

𝐌𝐲 𝐌𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞.

UK thought, two fingers still deep down his throat.
Again, he spat out everything his stomach had to offer.
He had his eyes tightly closed the entire time, refusing to see the mess he made.
Until he finally found the courage to open his eyes.

The young boy was met with something that could only be described as the work of the devil himself, something too cruel for a child like UK was to commit.
It was too cruel for any human being.

𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐛𝐞?

The teen asked himself, lifting his other hand from his stomach to gently touch his own blood-red lips.

𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝗜'𝗺 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠-?

UK threw his head around. He had seen something in the corner of his eye.
Was it real?
Was it perhaps a trick that his sick mind had played on him?

𝐈𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐛𝐞! 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐬 𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐝-?
𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐈'𝐯𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝?
𝐈𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐛𝐞, 𝐢𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐛𝐞!

"Stop it, stop it, stop it!" UK suddenly called out, slapping his hands over his ears and screaming loudly, breaking the sulking quietness of the night.
"It's not fair!" He yelled, tears dripping down his cheeks as he spoke.

"It's not fair! I'm not a monster... I'm not-" He began to stutter, his voice trembling and bottom lip forming into a downward curve while shaking.
"It's not fair..." He mumbled, stepping away from the vomit until his back hit the now closed doors of the church.

"I'm a child..." UK whispered to himself, sinking down in front of the house of God and faith.
"I'm just a child..."
He hid his tear stained face behind his knees, beginning to sob.

But UK wasn't a child anymore.
He wasn't that same little boy in front of a big, scary world anymore.

He was just a nobody who lost his faith in God a long, long time ago.

Another false prophet, another son of God who turned out sick and twisted.

Another lost case.

Just another victim of insanity in the ever continuing pattern of people.