Working For Your Love (PG X PG)

Goodbye

Mitch's POV

I didn't see why moving me back home was a good idea.If anything, it made things worse. My parents had moved into a new house now, so we had two floors. My room was on the bottom floor while the bathroom was on the top floor. Ugh, why couldn't they have just stayed in the apartment we had? It would've been much easier than having to lift myself out by using the crane, getting in my wheelchair, pushing myself towards the stairs, climbing out of my wheelchair, climbing into the stair lift, and getting taken to the top floor. It didn't even end there! Once I was on the top floor, my wheelchair was at the bottom floor still. I had to crawl into the bathroom, do whatever I needed to do without falling over, crawl back to the stair lift, and do the entire thing agian. It wasn't fun. If we had stayed in that apartment, then at least I could just climb into my wheelchair, push myself to the bathroom, and push myself back again. At least I had a bigger room, I guess. It was dark, and the windows had to be covered up with duct tape as the light burned my skin within seconds, the machines that surronded me kept me up at night, and the air conditing was so cold that my hairs stood up on end, but I guess it was fine. At least I wasn't in that hospital. Why did I have to come home? Why couldn't I have just stayed there? Why? It wasn't fair! I felt like vomiting. I just wanted to die so badly. That was all I wanted to do right now. I wanted to put an end to this constant state of suffering. Why should I spend hours and hours and hours like this when I can just die? I rolled my head over and looked at the needles that were on my bedside table. They were kept neat in a small, cardboard tray. If I managed to inject myself with all six of them at once...I would die from an overdose. I hated the thought of my parents walking in on me dead, but it was the only choice I had right now.

Sighing, I picked up the tray, rested it next to my chest, and rolled up my sleeve. I was still covered in bandages, which was never a good thing. I had to rip these things apart. I placed my fingers around my inner elbow and tried to pull. Nothing happened. I was going to have to rip evrything from my fingertips and up if I wanted these things off. I moved my hand down to my palm, slid my fingers underneath the bandages, and pulled. Within seconds everything up to my wrist unraveled. Good. This was good. My skin felt like it was melting away in the places that my fingers from my right hand touched, but it was going to be worth it. If I died here, it was all going to be worth it. I tugged at the bandages around my wrist, pulling them away as well. I started to see veins in the practially pitch black room. Finally. This was it. All of this was finally going to be over. I grabbed hold of all six needles and started to stick the tips of them into my arm. It stung like hell. It felt like I was getting stabbed with knifes, not tiny needles that had morphine mixed with a knockout drug in them. I hated the pain and I wanted it to stop so badly...It was going to be worth it though. Once I was dead I wouldn't feel any more pain any more...I would finally be happy when I went to Heaven. Once all of the needles were stuck in me, I took a deep breath and slammed the palm of my hand down onto the syringes themselves, making the medication flood straight into my system. I pulled the needles out, placed them back into the tray, and placed the tray back onto the table. It was done. The deed was done. I was only going to have to wait a few more minutes before this pain ended.

My head felt warm and the rest of my body fell numb. Was this what it felt like...Dying? I shut my eyes, brought my knees up slightly, and yanked out the tube that was in my throat. I didn't need this thing. The small amount of air that I got from this thing did nothing for me. I was better off not being able to breath at all. I felt my skin tear and blood spew out as I did so. The pain took a few seconds to subside and, when it did, my body seemed to relax. This was it. All of this pain was finally going to be over. From the sounds of the moniter, my heart rate quickly slowed down. I heard the sound of mumbling coming from above me. Could my parents honestly hear this thing? How loud was it? I balled my hands up and listened. The sound of 'mumbling' soon turned to shouting and racing footsteps coming down the stairs. No! Why couldn't I die! Was God not going to let me die? Why? Why did I have to suffer like this? Why did I have to suffer...? It wasn't fair! The door leading into my room opened, letting in the burning hot light, and both Scott and Rio ran over to me. I got rolled onto my back as the sensation of breathing came back to me. Were they really putting the tube back into my throat? Couldn't they see what I was trying to do? Were they blind or something? Why were they even trying to bring me back to life again? I was already almost dead...I was so close to death right now. I was so close.