It's the 17th of July. Close to the 31st. That's when I get put out of the hospital. Stomach acid has blistered the top of..well my stomach. I can't wear a shirt because it's so bloody and bad. I feel the tissue ripping inside of me and it hurts like fuck. The veins in my eyes have popped. Look it up if you don't know what I mean. They probably popped because of my lack of sleep. I'm scared to go to sleep. The dreams I have. The dreams about my mother and about the people who were once in my life that I took out..or killed. Yes I am a murder. Of many so called innocent lives. Even my mother's. She would have never suffocated if dad was there to help her. Instead he was out looking for me.
But when my time has come. To close my eyes. I'll let it take me. Because what do I have to live for? Nothing..I'm just Nearing The End
-Drewie
YOU ARE READING
Shot Through The Heart
No FicciónI just wanted to be different...I just wanted to be better..I just wanted to be happy I can't.. So I just want to be dead
