Two years. She left him 730 days, 3 hours, 36 minutes, and 42 seconds ago. He kept up with every sorrowful moment since. He took her death scythes, the ones she left behind, and sliced his arms.
He watched as the blood leaked down his flesh and as his chromatic records clouded his vision. He started to cry, seeing the amazing moments he had had with her did that to him. "Dammit!" He yelled, lifting the bottle of whiskey and pouring it on the wounds. The records dissipated as the wound burned.
"I am nothing." He whispered, closing his eyes and dropping to his knees from the bed. "I can't be any more sorry." He snarled. He let his head hit the floor, his cheek rested on the cold tile. He bit into his bottom lip, not only to shut himself up but also to punish himself. 'There is a way to end everything.' He thought to himself. He sat up and looked over to the scissors on the floor, they had fallen off the bed when he did.
His fingers laced around the handles and he lifted them, looking at his pathetic reflection in the blades. "Over." He whispered, opening the scythes and placing the tip of the sharp end on his wrist.
YOU ARE READING
Gone and Done
RomansaSebastian and Grell, tragic love story. Lets say he insulted her by accusing her of cheating. She left. Though at first she didn't seem like it had bothered her, it did. It hurt her terribly on the inside. She loved him greatly, and he loved her, sh...
