Drunken Suicide | Tate Langdon |

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!!Warning!!: Self-harm and suicide.

Read at your own risk!!
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You didn't know what else to do. You can't always drink your problems away. Not to be sent to therapy. Not to go to rehab again. You couldn't and you wouldn't. You frown as you look at your arm. You tear up. You take three huge gulps of your alcohol.
"You idiot. Thinking you can give it up so easily." You mumble to yourself. Tate, your boyfriend, is going to meet you in your room at 11pm. A unusual time, but better for you.
It was about 10:30pm. You were unaware of what was to happen. You were breaking down once again for this night. You go over to your drawer, opening it slightly. You grab a little box from your drawer. In the box held something awful yet soothing for you. You open it to reveal the shiny, metal object that once had taken over your life.
"Don't do it. Do it." You groan before placing the blade to your wrists. You steadily drag it horizontally over your skin. You let out more sobs as the pain fogs your memory and the cutting continues more and more. You weren't paying attention to anything.
You don't realize the door opens. You feel arms wrap around you.
     "Please, no. Don't do this. No. You can't do this." You hear Tate. You start crying at this.
     "Tate. Shh." You cup his cheeks. "I love you, you know this. We will soon be together-" You hiccup. You were drunk as hell and you were bleeding out. "Forever." You pass out from blood loss.
     You wake up to find yourself in your bed. You shoot up, you must have been dreaming. You get up to see your body on the ground. From then on you know it was a drunken suicide.

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