Playing With Knives- LoZ

scene 37- gone

~Aaaaaah yes! It's happening!~
Warning: blood, violence, (major)self-harm, etc.
Some real no-kidding shit. It escalates quickly. Very quickly.
Also, don't do what Wild does here. Just don't. It won't help.
Okay, on with the story.

~~~~~~~

They stopped in a clearing and set up camp there. Wind was getting restless, so Twilight sent him out with Wild to get some firewood. Wind wasn't too happy about that, but he did it anyway.

The two walked through the trees together, picking up sticks and logs.
"This reminds me of when I had to collect a ton of wood for someone."
"Wow, so interesting."
"Wind!"
"Were they building something? I bet that's so important. Yeah, a story about building an extra shed is very helpful right now. "

Wild listened to Wind's sarcastic comments, wondering if he actually thought that his stories were stupid. He was only trying to make a conversation.
"I'm sorry, I-"
"There you go again, apologizing for saying something when you could have just kept your freaking hands down. You're an asshole, you know that? A freaking asshole. Y'know, I think I'd like you better if you were dead. How's that sound, huh? You ruin everything for everyone, so we'd all be better off if you were gone. So just die."

Did he really think that? Of course he did.
Wild didnt even hear the rest of Wind's rant. He had already dropped all of his wood and ran.

Wind had just voiced his fears and added onto them at the same time. So why not respect his wishes?

●●●

Wild was on his knees, sobbing into his hands. He didn't realize that they actually thought all of that. Of course they did.

"Wild? What's wrong? What happened?"
Still crying, Wild replied.
"I'm a f**king asshole that doesn't deserve to be here. I ruin everybody's life. Nobody likes me..."
"That's not true!"
"Yes it f**king is."
"I- no, it isn't. I'm getting Time, okay? Just stay here."
"It's not like I'll be moving from this spot. Just go away."

After a moment, Wild looked up and saw that Twilight was gone. Good. Now he could do it.

He sat back, pulling his knees up and closer to his body. He pulled something out of his pocket- the knife.

He looked at it for a moment, pondering the decision. Oh well. He had gotten this far.

He positioned it in front of himself.

And he stabbed. He stabbed himself, right in the heart. He pulled it out and stabbed again, in the same spot. He pulled it out again.

And he fell back onto the ground. The pain was so intense that he couldn't feel it. It didn't hurt.

The last thing he saw was feet running toward him. The last thing he heard was a gasp.

And the world went black.

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