Misery | Duncney ⚘

𝟬 | Back to Black

*TW: extremely graphic depictions of SELF HARM & SUICIDE*

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The tub was cold against her bare skin, her breathing frigid. It was late in the morning, typically her favorite time. The world had nothing against her right now, and it was a pause button for life, the plentiful of voices hushed.

The monotonous line of consistency was broken when she found herself up more often, relishing the quiet state of the night. It was mentally calming. No expectations, no reality.

She recollected the previous nights she would spend in this very bathtub. The overwhelming span of emotion it would derive. But now, that was reduced to absoulutely nothing; she felt emptiness. No more crying, no more sadness. She obtained solidarity with the night and herself. For once, the voices weren't tearing at her, her father wasn't yelling at her, and primarily: she wasn't in internal debate with herself. She made the decision and her mind was ultimately set. Nothing could change now.

She slowly traced her fingernails along the rim of the tub, and tried to rake the crevices of her limp brain for something. For memories, for remorse. She searched within every corner of her soul; she yearned to hear the voice within her telling her to stop. But her mind was paralyzed.

She tried to cry, she even tried to yell, but nothing came out, as if she was already dead. She lowered her gaze to the blade markings across her torso, to scars that would appall anyone, and she realized she was wasting time sitting here. She needed to do it before her emotions wake and plead her to stop.

She wasn't backing down this time.

She was going to do it.

Her fingers hastily fumbled with the mahogany handle of the drawer, retrieving the pack of razor blades. She hurriedly tore open the plastic, and winced as the blades fell onto the porcelain of the tub, the clanking of the metal slightly echoing within the vast proximity of the bathroom walls. Her desire to feel something-even if it was a cold blade running across her skin-was dire.

Her breaths were rapid with trepidation as her body started trembling, as if it was directing itself on its own. Picking up the fallen blades and setting them aside on the tub, she reached forward to turn on the tap, cold water flooding her surroundings instantly.

She screwed her eyes shut to remember the notes she took on anatomy, and where she needed to cut in order to cause fatal damage. Opening her eyes and tauntingly traced the artery, she tested the waters without digging the blade into her skin.

Baited breaths escaped her lips as her body clamored in fear for what was to come. This was the most afraid she'd been in her life.

All the decisions she had made through the entirety of her teenage years led up to this instant, and she couldn't even bring herself to feel sorrowful of the position she brought herself to. She truly was over life, the only sign of it being present in her body being the frail heartbeat that was getting weaker with each passing second.

With her trembling fingers, she slightly raised the blade and slashed it across her forearm. Pain reigned over her senses as she flipped her hand and this time, sunk the blade deeper into her skin with every inch of her pride and desire vanishing in desolate harmony. Crimson leaked out of the self-inflicted cracks on her skin, her vision turning hazy.

The pain washed over her like a wave intent on drowning its victim, and although she only slit her arms twice... it felt as if someone were agonizingly pulping the blood from her veins until there was nothing left but skin and bones.

The entirety of herself recoiled in a loud, terrorizing scream. She violently sunk her teeth into her bottom lip, tearing at the flesh.

Tears -tears that came out of sadness-were now the result of her terror. They endlessly flowed out of her darkened eyes.

In her final moments, she succumb. She let the pain blanket her; she didn't fight back. Her tears fell out in a steady waterfall, but this time they represented the life being drained out of her.

Then, her heartbeat flatlined.

In that moment, a kaleidoscope of memories played out in front of her eyes. Rolls of filmtape were aired onto the cinema of what was once known as her life.

She had many aspirations, and she didn't expect them to end with a razor ripping her skin. However, life took an unexpected turn, and certain circumstances led her to make this decision. The state of her current despondency embraced her with open arms. It was as if she was fated to such a tragic ending.

As she let out a final exhale, she closed her eyes. Euphoria started washing over her body. It felt ethereal.

She finally bid farewell to those who played such a significant role in her melodrama.

Her friends.

Her family, her father.

Herself.

She knew her time was up when a vivid image of her mother was being painted in front of her. She was transcending into a different realm altogether.

But earth wouldn't stay quiet without flashing an image of the green-haired boy she couldn't bring herself to despise.

"Goodbye, Duncan," she whispered to the empty abyss.