he was nothing. (Eddsworld)

Nine.

Tord had taken away everything from Tom. Edd, Matt, his wrists, his hope. He stayed in his room for the rest of that day, drinking. The door only opened to Edd, who didn't even knock. He slid a plate of pasta towards Tom and begged him to eat.

"You need to eat something, Tom."

No he doesn't. A human can last 3 days without food. Tom hasn't eaten for... 2. Probably 2 days and he's fine.

As Tom sat in bed, he couldn't get rid of the voice inside his head. Fucking kill yourself you stupid eyeless freak. You're just a waste of space. You deserve pain and that's all. No food, no air, no life.

Alcohol didn't help anymore. His only escape, tore down by...

This is Tord's fault. He thought, yet that was replied with, Don't force the blame on him. It was all your fault for being such a useless freak. This time, Tom didn't agree with the voice in his head. He thought that it really was Tord's fault.

Tord took Edd and Matt from him. Tord, for the most part, took Tom away from himself, too. The voice in his head use to be Tord, yet now it his Tom's own. Tord took away his sanity, his hope, everything he needs in order to survive! The voice in his head was screaming at him, Tord's not the one to blame! You're the one stupid enough to fall for his sick, twisted game! You're just a dumbass who doesn't belong here! Tord's doing the world a favour by getting rid of you!

"SHUT UP!" Tom exclaimed. It was supposed to be in his thoughts yet it came out of his mouth.

That made room for the voice to also escape his lips, "It's true."

That was his last surge of true hope. It coursed through his veins like a virus. It made him want. It made him think that he wasn't a terrible dumbass. It made him want to fight the voice in his head. It almost made him need.

Sometimes, when you have a disease such as cancer, you will get better. You'll feel fine, you'll be fine. The doctors will let you go and you'll be so happy that you survived and you'll go to sleep in your own room. You'll think you're better but you are not. It comes back to bite you. You'll die in your sleep.

Tom was done. He stopped.

He stopped believing that it was Tord's fault for this. He stopped arguing with the voice and let it say how much of a fuck up he is. He stopped wanting to fight for his life. He stopped hoping that it'd all get better. He stopped wanting to get up.

He stopped breathing.

He let his lungs empty of oxygen. His body shook, yelling breathe! at him. He didn't listen. His instincts were muffled by the voice saying, you don't deserve air. He closed his eyes and let his lungs burn from their loss. He could breath, he was just choosing not to. Some small gasps of air came into his lungs but he stopped then by shoving his face into the pillow. The world around him faded into nothing and the room got terribly quiet.

He woke up, even though he didn't think it was necessary that he did. He could just lay there forever. No one would care. They'd all just think he was taking a nice long nap, forever. The world could go by happier without him in it. He bets that the moment he steps out of his room, something terrible would happen an he'd be the cause.

He had a bad headache. He wanted to forget about his mental fight with himself, but, as said before, alcohol didn't help anymore. He trudged out of bed and sat on the couch. He thought of getting pain medication but the voice was back. Someone is going through a lot worse pain than you right now and they don't have any medication so why should you? You might take the last pill and two minutes later Edd brakes his leg. He won't have any pills, you selfish asshole.