damaged kisses; septiplier

day 14

suicide attempt below, which is in graphic detail. read at your own risk.

____________

he never in his entire life felt so low.

the loneliness, pain, sadness, was nearly done consuming his fading soul, and he was oh so tempted to take the bleach in washroom and chug it all down; or maybe he should take the knife in the kitchen and plunge in his gut. better yet, why not do them both while drowning himself with pills spilling from his chapped lips?

jack smiled at the thought.

but no, he couldn't, not yet.

he already had it all planned. the suicide note, the way he was going to kill himself, the last scene before everything faded to black. he planned it all once he made up his mind. if he were to end it all now, it wouldn't go as planned. he didn't have all the supplies yet, he didn't finish writing the note either, so killing himself now would be a mess.

he played with his fingers as he lay in his cold bed, legs curled into his chest, duvet covering his cold and thin form. should be end it now? sure, yeah it would be a mess, but his life is one too. plus, he had the pill bottles waiting patiently to be used since he bought them, and the overused razor sitting along with them, chatting about jack's great end. the bleach was burning a hole by the toilet, screaming at jack to chug it all down and get it over with.

maybe he should.

he got up, and slowly dragged his feet across the carpeted floor, the ever slight noise and movement making him flinch thinking he was about to be attacked. why would be attacked though? kier was at work, he was alone once again.

he chuckled inwardly thinking of such a silly thing and pushed open the bathroom door. the smell of cleaning supplies and slight scent of death welcomed and beckoned him in. he shut the door, and with shacking fingers, opened the medicine cabinet. grasping the pill and razor, he set them on the counter, the slight noise of the pills moving making him even more anxious for the event to come. he picked up the razor, feeling the light weight of its metal resting against his pale palm. it's not like he never done this before, but this time, it's different. this may be the last time he gets to lazily drag the razor across his body and paint himself in red.

last time.

he smiled. he liked that word. last.

gliding the razor harshly against his arm with more force and pressure than usual. the blood immediately surfaced, trickling down his arm and on to the tile marble floor. he continued the process, switching on to the other arm, his stomach, hips then his thighs. they all screamed for medical attention but jack couldn't care less.

he let the blood drip to the floor, eyes glassy in fascination. he gently ran his fingers across the fresh cuts, adding pressure to some here and there.

"jack?!"

Jack's eyes widened. kier wasn't due home until eleven o'clock which is in three hours.

you messed up as usual, great job.

"shut up," his voice was nearly gone from not being used as often, and from the lack of hydration, "just shut up."

pathetic. worthless. screw up.

"i said shut up," jack hissed and tried to cover up the bleeding along his body.

pathetic. worthless. screw up. disappointment. failure.

"why don't you just shut up?!" jack was fuming and pulling at his hair, pulling some out from the frustration and abused he's putting it through, "shut up, shut up, be quiet!"

"what did you just say?!" kier's footsteps bounded up the stairs, the boom echoing through their home, "you little—"

nothing.

"SHUT UP, SHUT UP, SHUT UP," jack sobbed and threw himself to the floor, covering his head letting the salty tears fall, "I KNOW I'M PATHETIC, WORTHLESS, A SCREW UP, DISAPPOINTMENT, A FAILURE. I KNOW I'M JUST NOTHING SO SHUT UP!"

kier stopped at the foot of the door, pounding mercilessly against the white wood, "open up you fuck."

die.

"SHUT UP, GO AWAY, LEAVE ME ALONE, JUST END ME ALREADY," jack screamed into empty air. his face was wet from tears, and oh god he never, in is whole life felt so lonely.

"jack," kier's voice held no happiness, but something else. something that jack thought that wasn't in his nature. concern? worry? ha, no couldn't be.

you deserve all of this. you deserve the pain. you deserve everything, but nothing at once.

"i didn't deserve anything," jack whispered in a broken tone, "i didn't d-deserve any of this, y-y-yet i deserve everything."

you deserve to die.

"i know," jack whispered it like it was true and his last breathe.

then his world began to fade into nothing but the black void of nothingness.