Jefferson Lake One Shot 2

The anker was too fucking light

"Brick by brick by brick

These walls begin to cave in

The house of wolves you built

is burning a thousand suns"

Lee Adams POV

It has been 137 days since I had commited suicide.

One fucking hundred thirty shitty 7 days.

I did't know why I failed. I was so dumb. So useless. Pathetic. I couldn't even attempt suicide right. The fuck was I doing? I wanted t-

A high pitched sound stopped my thoughts. I didn't really want to know what Emmett did again to prank his sister.

"Emmett [insert last Name:)]! Come to the kitchen this instant! If you don't appear through the door in 5 seconds I will kick you where the sun doesn't shine and ch-", Emily was interrupted by her brother's voice. "Jesus, cool down sis! No Need to scream everyone's ears off."

I clicked out of their conversation in the kitchen. I was not in the mood for another discussion between these two. Since I practically moved in here, because Parker Adams was irritating the shit out of me when he was in his constent "hawk state", Emmett tried to pull up pranks all day to lift my mood. Obviously, this idea did not please my brother's girlfriend Emily. Parker treating me like I was a new born baby made me explode inside whenever I was around his presence. I probably would have had more privacy in London's city streets. Not that I would ever be found in those because I would get a panic attack within 10 seconds. But the art and history there was fascinating. No, not the Madame Tussauds. Normally, I would have rambled some interesting history Facts by now, but I was not in the mood.

I did't even know why they kept me in here! I was fucking done with this world and I wanted to leave this deathtrap. Literally.

I wanted to finally fall into the trap.

FLASHBACK

1 week before the attempt

There were so many options. So many and I didn't know which to choose. I was never good at choosing.

I wanted a quick, but the least hurtful way out. Physically hurtful, of course. My "dream death situation" was me in a bed sleeping while someone came out and shot me down.

*boom*

That's my dream death.

But of course there was nobody who would've shot me down.

Anyways, so my only options left were the pill deed or the cut your wrists thing. Both lead to the same ending. That's what I hoped for.

FLASHBACK END

I could remember every fucking detail. From the planning to the choosing, from the deciding to the actual doing. I had those flashbacks daily. Night and day. They kept me alive and that was the problem. Every memory of that night made me want to go back in time and be the one who hold the gun in the hand. Every memory made me realise that I fucked up bad and every fucking memory made me suffer more each day.

Day by day.

Like someone pressed 'replay' again and again. Like someone pushed me over the edge over and over again.

Only I never tripped over the edge.

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