i don't love you ♡ gw

House Of Wolves

I got into Gerards car and blasted out music. I had no fucking core where I was going out what I was going to do now.

I knew what I wanted to do and I'll do it eventually.

I drive for around two hours and reach a motel. I grab Gerards card and my life savings card.

I get keys to a room and all that jazz and set up my little camera I used for photography.

I pressed record.

"hey, killjoys. You sure do live up to your name. I know how much you all hate me including Gerard and the rest of you. I recently experienced a girl commit suicide. This just showed me what you people charge others to do.

I'm going to show you.

For every hate comment I read, I'm going to cut one line in my wrist.

Your worthless

You should end it with Gerard. You don't deserve him.

Kill yourself, you'll be doing everyone a favour.

Were you a mistake? That would explain a lot about you and Gerards relationship.

No wonder your adopted." i read out loud along with a few others and I had almost twenty cuts on my arm so far.

I watched as the blood dripped and stained the carpet with blood with other things I'd rather not think about.

I came across a tweet from a verified account.

"Frank Iero says no one cares anyway"  i whilst looking into the camera.

I continue to look into the lens as I cut my wrists, letting the blood flow freely.

"Thank you all for these lovely compliments. Seeing as they're the only ones I get " i say and shut off my camera.

I send it to my phone and post it on twitter with the caption 'no one cares anyway'

I go into the bathroom and clean off my hands, the sink making it look like I just murdered someone from the amount of blood.

I look at my phone after ten minutes and see i have comments on my video.

'YAY SHE DUD IT!'

'no! You don't need to do that!'

'cut deeper next time'

'yoy posted th video so your alive. Ugh'

'dont suffer because of other people'

'y rnt u ded yet?'

'ding doing the witch is- oh she's still alive? We need to wait a little longer to celebrate'

They were just a few examples of what they say to me. I get this on a daily basis.

I decline a call from Ray to keep looking at the comments. Some of which are telling me to stop and I consider a few, yet done make me want to slit my own throat.

I put the phone down and lay on the bed. I look up at the plain white ceiling and think.

I grab a random piece of paper and a pen and write down random thoughts.

Drowning in thoughts yet swimming in lies,
Shoulders are heavy and the weight is too much,
I can't handle anymore,
I have no room left for sorrow,
Puddles of tears, they've drained me dry.

I write that and draw a drawing to go with it.

I draw flowers with thorns going up around the edges of the segment I wore on the paper and shaded then in grey and black colours. I looked at my little piece of art. I take a photo and caption it the same as the last one, but I tag frank, Gerard, ray and mikey in it. Just to mage sure they see it.

I lay on the bed again and turn off the light.

The room was pitch black other than my phone lighting up from notifications I got. That light never went off...