Heaven (CANCELLED)

1.Down, Down, In An Earlier Round...

    Pain. Thats all I feel now, pain, suffering and agony. Well I guess that's how any angel would feel if they fell. I am a sorry excuse for one of His children, after a while I just stopped believing. Believing that the world could get better, that all the pain from this world can get washed away, but, it never really washes away does it? So I was casted away, sent down, all because I stopped believing that this place can be fixed. Well, here I am now, a lost soul, damned to walk this earth with shame and a constant depression that doesn't seem to go away. And when I think it does, it just comes back to haunt me, reminds me why I'm here, why I'm in so much pain, it's hell.

    I am standing in the middle of my studio apartment just staring into the ocean. I can't even remember when I got this place, or how long I had it. I just remembered a few days after I had fallen, that I had a place to stay in case something like that happened. I guess you can say I had a hunch that I was going to fall, that I would actually be sent down. Call it crazy but, I just sort of knew it was going to happen. I wasn't all that surprised when it happened either, I just felt a little off guard on how soon it was happening. These are how my days go by, reminiscing of what went wrong, what I could've done to stop myself from not believing. That's all I ever really do now is sit around and just think, and it's not like I'm going to die either. Well I can't die, that is one of my punishments, I can't die and I live an eternity feeling nothing but self hatred and pain. Pain, there's that word again, the word that describes every fiber of my being. Speaking of pain, It's that time of day, the time where I try to feel "pain". I move slowly from the position I'm standing at towards the bathroom. I take my time because it's not like it won't be like any other day, that today might be the day that I feel. Yeah, right.

    As I walk into the bathroom I take a long glance at myself in the mirror. "Pathetic." I mutter to myself as I look myself up and down. I'm wearing a black V-neck and grey sweat pants that hang low on my hips. While I'm grazing my appearance my eyes fall on my arms, I see light lines of marks on them. Scars. Yes I know this way of "feeling" is wrong but, I kind of feel something out of it, like something is trying to push its way out but I just don't know what. I open up the drawer under the mirror searching for my "escape" until I find it. I hold it in my hand, gently feeling the sharp edge of it with my finger. As I put the blade to my skin, I feel the familiar feeling of the cold metal sliding across my wrist. Lift, place, cut, repeat, lift, place, cut, repeat, lift, place, cut, repeat. It's the repetition I'm all to familiar with, I am so use to the pain I just do it to see if I can feel anything anymore.

    When I'm satisfied with how my arms look, I start to pull up my shirt to reveal my pale stomach which is covered in scars. Like I said before, pathetic, I have stooped so low to doing this, but it's all I can think of now. I grabbed the razor and put it gently to my stomach, I start to cut. Lift, place, cut, repeat, lift, place, cut, repeat, lift, place, cut, repeat. There's that repetition again, always showing up when it needs to. When I'm done with mutilating my stomach, I pull my shirt down over my fresh cuts and go and wash the razor. I don't feel the fabric over my cuts, I know it's suposed to burn but really I feel nothing. I guess today wasn't the day, of course. When I'm done cleaning off the razor, I put it back in the drawer and start washing the already drying blood off my arms and stomach. I have done this so many times, I guess you can call it my "daily routine", sitting around whining about what I did wrong than head to the bathroom for my "escape" than clean up and start moping again. When I've finish cleaning up my cuts and all the blood, I take one last look in the mirror, I give myself a look of disgust than walk out.

    I go back to what I was doing before except I sit on the couch this time and just stare again. Weird, today I feel so, different, like something is going to happen to me today but, I never feel like this, how odd. Right after I thought about this there was a knock at the door. I jump a little when I hear the sound. I am a little hesitent to open the door because this doesn't usually happen to me, but I don't want to be rude so I go over to the door and open it. A girl.

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So, is it good for a first fan fiction? I would enjoy comments and input would be great too. Tell me what you think.