Help Me

Don't Get Lost in Heaven

The old life for the flea was close to over. Every time he took a breath he got closer and closer to the end. The old Izaya would have never considered suicide as an option but the new Izaya; well, that was a different story.  This new Izaya was a monster, more of a monster than Shizuo could ever be. Izaya couldn’t let anyone get the satisfaction of anyone but himself killing him; if it was someone else, say some enemies perhaps, he would never be found and Izaya at least wanted to be found.

He knew he had to think quick before anyone found him. They would probably figure out soon that he would choose to go to a place he hates the most to hind himself. All the vulgar things that were around him made him sick. He felt so sick that sometimes he just threw up. He couldn’t handle it and what scared him the most was now his body considered him vulgar enough to get sick.

Izaya stared at the list he had written down. His hands had shaken when he wrote it making his perfect handwriting disappear. He read over every option over and over and over and over. It made the old Izaya that was buried deep in his soul wail. The wailing caused his stomach to sing in agony.

Gunshot, electrocution, hanging, bleed out, overdose, and suffocation, which one would be best. Not hanging or overdose, Izaya thought. He drew a thin line through those two. It wouldn’t leave enough of an impact; no he wanted to go out with a bang. He did not want to be forgotten, to become just another statistic.

His eyes just wandered around the room and when he came back into focus it had been an hour. He had to get prepared! It would happen soon, tonight to be exact!  It would all finally come to an end! He grabbed a paper and started to write one of his final notes to the world.

Dear Human(s),

I can’t stand this part of me anymore. I held off as long as I could to see if someone, anyone, would try to help. You humans disgust me, you didn’t even try. I must now take matters into my old hands and do something the old Izaya Orihara would never do. At this moment there are five more hours until it will be over. When you find this I shall be dead. I even planned it down to exactly when I would have to start if I wanted to die before you go here. I am planning it all out. The only thing I regret was ever hoping you would help me and how I was not able to control myself.

Izaya Orihara

It was close to being all over and Izaya kept having second thoughts. If he sat to long doing nothing it would allow him to think, think like he shouldn’t. He thought of the pain he would feel as it happened. He thought of the many ways he could die. He only had one death, it had to be perfect.

The time had finally come and Izaya was about to put a message out for them to see. He used his phone to access the internet and logged onto the Dollars site.

Anonymous: You will never guess what I just saw! Izaya Orihara seems to be committing suicide. Someone better come quickly or he will be just another percentage!

Done, done, it was all over. The final countdown was beginning. Izaya curled his hands around his flick blade. He had to start soon if he wanted to be dead by the time the toys arrived. He pulled the knife out of his pocket and flicked it open.

He focused on the small noise it made. He focused on the coloration. Every cut he made would be repentance. Every cut would be another life he had taken. Every drop of blood would be him freeing himself. Every second that he got closer to death was another closer to his perfect world.

He made the first cut timidly. He was scared of the pain. He was scared he would turn out to enjoy this. He took in a sharp breath before starting to slash, then he made another, and another, and another, he made them until his whole body was burning from the pain. He came into focus after zoning out while doing it and saw blood all over the couch, table, wall, and anything close to him.

His vision got blurry from the blood loss but he still went on. His cuts got deeper, quicker, less precise and more desperate, more primitive, more...unlike Izaya. He got closer to the edge of Break Down Mountain. He got closer to the end.

Tears crawled from behind Izaya’s eyes and started to make themselves known. It was painful, almost too painful for Izaya to take but this was his punishment. This was his private hell. He would have to deal with the hell for a little longer.

The tears burned his laceration sites as they rolled down his face. The blood loss was too much and Izaya could not even hold up his flick blade anymore. He fell onto his side not being able to hold himself up anymore. He realized in this moment that people were yelling out side. He could hear a dog bark and the nice old lady in the room above him listening to her record player. In this moment he learned that the world was not a complete loss.

The voices got closer and he could recognize one voice but he couldn’t place it. His mind was too fuzzy just like when he drank that one time. He forced his eyes to stay open even though he was about to die. He wanted to hear more of this peaceful world he had never heard before; he was able to see the world differently now that he was about to die, too bad he could enjoy it.

The door was knocked down surprising the informant. He blinked in and out of consciousness trying to become away of whom had broke the door. He saw blonde hair and a black body suit. He knew who it was, or well he at least thought he did. Their names were there like a dream that you can not remember.

Izaya could hear them talking, fumbling on their words, but it ran together in a slurred like speech. He felt nothing and that made him happy. Everything he had felt: pain, despair, and mental loss were gone. He finally decided he had held on to his consciousness long enough and decided it was time to die.

“Thank you Shizuo...Celty...for......coming this...time,” he had remember their names in the last moment. His speech had slowed and started to decrescendo until it was almost inaudible. He had died leaving the game to finally be over.

Shizuo and Celty stared at the man who looked so much like a toddler at this moment. He had tears steaming down his face yet had a peaceful look as if death had given him a new freedom from himself; at least the duo hoped so. One thing they did know was that Izaya would not be forgotten.