The blade. It slipped loyally across his thigh as he took a breath. Sharp. Quick. Anxious.
His dark brown eyes studied the blood that began to bubble from the new additions to his "problem". He winced a bit at the pinching pain, but it was nothing now. He was used to it. He enjoyed it.
The crimson substance trailed down his leg as the corners of his mouth twitched violently, digging the blade in again. Deeper. It wasn't enough.
This was the blade that was always there for him; his sick, twisted love he had for his friend was insane. He needed it; he needed this, so much. But it wasn't enough.
His cuts began to deepen dangerously, a thick layer of sweat covering his forehead. Why wasnt this enough? Images clouded his thoughts as he stood, numb. Dropping the blade, he rose his voice, more to himself than the blade.
"Sorry. You just aren't enough this time."
Repeating the words he had heard only a year back, his face went blank as he threw on a pair of skinny jeans and situated his Blink 182 tee, throwing his feet into his shoes.
He tucked a lighter and a pack of cigarettes safely in his back pocket, soon walking into his parent's abandoned room. He grabbed a pen and some paper and scribbled a sloppy note down.
'Dear Mom and Dad, I love you guys. And I'm sorry I'm such a fuck up but... Sorry, you just aren't enough this time. -Jack'
He felt a silent tear slide down his cheek as he slipped into the bathroom, taking in his reflection, blankly. Numbly.
His dark hair was messy from him running his hands through it, and his eyes were red and puffy, filled with pure misery. He looked at himself, words like 'worthless', 'ugly', and 'fat' coming to mind as he sniffed angrily, grabbing the nearest hard object and chucking it at the mirror as it broke into pieces and the loud clanking sound of the glass engulfing the room.
Pretending as if that didn't happen, he simply returned to his numbingly empty state and headed for the gun cabinet. Only then did the anxiousness sink in.
The disgusting way he was...excited.
Putting the thoughts aside, he opened it and pulled out his dad's favorite pistol, and observed it with a smile. Appreciating it. This would be his new friend.
And with that, he was out the door.
Pulling his phone from his back pocket, he ignored all of the messages and sent a quick message to Zack. 'I love you, man. And I'm so sorry.'
Gritting his teeth, he strolled into the park, admiring its quiet unlike ever before. He was seeing new colors in the dark of that place, at one am in the only place he'd ever felt calm. The town park, where he spent many days with his best friend.
Matt Flyzik.
And it was the first time he'd been here since his death. Since Matt's suicide.
Ignoring the pain yanking at his stomach, he grimaced at the vibrations coming from his phone. Without even checking it, he just tossed it into the pond beside him and kept walking to the park bench. The one that held so many memories.
He started remembering that day- the best day of his life.
-"Barakat, you fucker! Stop... Running." Matt gasped for air, trailing unwillingly behind his best friend. "What's the...surprise?"
Jack erupted in laughter as he reluctantly stopped and waited for Matt to catch up as he threw his arm around his friend. "Just follow me."
And as usual, the two made their way to their 'secret hideout' or just a place covered in trees and a bench surrounded by flowers. It was truly beautiful and Jack admired the coziness of it, throwing his hands over Matt's eyes to guide him to the bench.
Matt giggled. "Oh, stop being a faggot and just show me."
He opened his eyes to a Mickey Mouse plush, and began laughing uncontrollably as he picked it up. But what he saw made him forget most everything.
Inside the plush's hands were two concert tickets. To see Blink 182.
"HOLY FUCK, MAN!" He screamed, tackling Jack to the bench and straddling him, hugging him close and covering his head in dramatic kisses. "I love you!" He shouted, and before he could think, it happened.
He'd grabbed Jack's face, cupping his cheeks and taking his lips into his own, passionately moving against him.
Jack froze with shock at first, but kissed back willingly, wrapping his arms around Matt's waist while Matt clung to his neck, running his hand through his hair.
Moments later, Matt pulled away, staring deep into Jack's eyes. "I love you, Jack Bassam Barakat." Jack couldn't fight the grin.
"I love you too, James Matthew Flyzik. I love you too."-
Tears pricked Jack's eyes as he sat down on the bench, the flowers nonexistent and covered in a small layer of snow. He breathed out condensed air and shut his eyes tight, forcing the memories back.
He didn't want to remember anything else. He didn't want to remember the look on Matt's face when he told him people couldn't know, and that he wasn't ready to get bullied, like Matt was for being openly gay. He didn't want to remember the shit Matt went through; the shit he put him through. He didn't want to remember the scars on Matt's skin, or the bruises from the beatings at home and school.
He didn't want to think about the last time he talked to the beautiful boy, when he stood on his doorstep crying.
But he did.
He watched him sob and scream about how he couldn't do it. He remembered his words. "Why can't you see I'm dying inside and the only one who can help is you? Why are you hurting me, Jack? Why are you killing me? Why have you killed me? Jack, I'm..I'm sorry. I can't. Sorry. You just aren't enough this time."
And he didn't see him until the next day, on the news. The headlines. It was all so tragic. Teenager hung himself. Hung himself. Suicide. All because of Jack.
Jack sniffled, pulling out the cigarettes and lighting one, taking a long drag of it before letting the tears spill freely now. He couldn't take it anymore. He deserved to be dead. Not Matt.
Shaking, he threw the cigarette and took one last look around before grabbing the gun, and closing his eyes. He put it to his head, let one last tear fall, and looked up to the sky, images of Matt clouding his mind as he screamed what seemed to be his last words to the nothing. But to Matt.
"I'm sorry I wasnt enough, Matt. I'm so, so sorry."
And with that, he slammed his eyes shut. Taking one last breath, he heard a loud "wait!" and the noise startled him, as the gun sounded throughout the small town.
A/N: I'm so sorry Matt baby I love you
Title inspired by Hollywood Undead- Bullet
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