Silent misery (BTS depression story)

Boys with anger issues

Angry alcoholic p.o.v

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I'm downing another few shots. Yesterday he got sent to the ER something about cutting veins. He couldn't go out drinking with me. I still have the other one. He's alot like me. Angry at everything. He likes drinking but not as much as I do. I sighed running my hands through my hair. I just don't understand why we have to live like this. I drink til I'm angry. I drink to forget I'm depressed. The boy I love doesn't love me back but that doesn't matter it doesn't have that much to do with it. 

I'm angry because I can't fix everything I cant help anyone. Mostly sense I'm bad with helping people unlike the boy I like and the boy who's determined to help us. Yesterday one of the members almost overdosed, one nearly passed out from starvation and now I'm watching the bipolar boy leave only to probably get in another fight. 

I come home collaps on my bed and pull out my lighter lighting a cigarette. I taught him to love fire. I explained to him why I loved it so much and he took interest. I sighed breathing in the smoke. I had gotten used to it over time. I didnt  cough as much. I stared at my lit lighter and sighed. I can picture this house up in flames. I'd love to let the thick black smoke fill my lungs and the searing flames ingulf me. I had already nearly burnt my shitty house down once. Now I can't. 

We aren't as famous as we used to be. We have our own lives now. Mostly.  I had a dream of my music being the best in the world but now I could care less. I scrunched up my nose and threw the bear bottle shattering it on the carpeted ground and stood up grabbing a paper with a song I wrote on it and lit the paper on fire dropping it onto the alcohol watching the flames ignite. I just sat down and smiled at the fire. I had a few mood swings for a moment where I began to scream and cry and break things but now I sit and wait for the flames. 

Bipolar bad boy p.o.v

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I left the bar. I watched him stumble out not long after and I went through the dark in search of trouble. I knew he knew I was planning to but he let me leave anyways. I pissed off some gang kids and now they're running after me. Eventually I escaped and began spray painting the walls. I could care less who sees. 

I'm always so confused. Hurting. My best friend slit his wrists and is now in the hospital. One of them isn't even in touch with reality another is too drunk to hold a conversation and the others are just flat out useless. I suppose the 'leader' isn't but he's still trying to hard to be happy. He should give up it won't work. 

I hear sirens so I begin running I hop on a bike stealing it as I ride off. My backpack full of spray paint cans jiggling on my back. I flip off the cops and ride faster eventually one chased me down on foot and pushed me up against the car cuffing me. I could care less the others will bail me out and if they don't I'll make everyone in prison my bitch. What has changed me? Sigh. Probably my life. My issues. My friends. I hope my best friend is okay.