Story cover for Last One Standing by LobsterWater226
Last One Standing
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Ongoing, First published Dec 05, 2021
It was me and them, the last of us, one of us wouldn't see tomorrow's sunlight. One of us would be buried here with the rest of our friends, and I sure as hell wasn't giving up without a fight. 

They held a knife in their left hand, slowly approaching me. 

"This is your fault, you made me do this."
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"CHARLIE!" His screams were getting closer until I saw him completely. I grabbed the knife and pointed it straight at him. "Get away from me!" I say warning him His face was red and he still stalked towards me slowly. "GET AWAY FROM ME!" I yell fearing the fact that didn't look scared at all. "Put the knife down." I started to back up a bit still pointing the knife at him. "I'm not telling you again, put it down NOW!" His calm persona was instantly replaced with a furious one. "Please Tho-" He came charging straight at me but I made a run for it. I ran as fast as I could with him behind me until he tackled me to the floor. The knife flew across the hallway and he was on top of me. "Thomas please let me go. I don't want to be here. Please." I say begging "You're ruining everything. It was so perfect and special just for you and you're ruining it." I can tell he was sad but more pissed off this anything. "WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME?! I LOVE YOU MORE THAN ANYTHING AND THIS IS HOW YOU REPAY ME!" He screamed in my face. "I-" "SHUT YOUR DAMN MOUTH!" He roars slapping me across the face. He roughly picks me up and drags me to the room. He yanked me away from him making me fall hit my knee on the hard wood floor. He walked in the bathroom to get something and I realized it something to put me to sleep. He poured the chemical into the towel as he mumbled to himself and I watched in fear. He pulled me from the ground and tried to make me breathe in. I fought the urge to. I thrashed back and forth trying to get free but nothing worked. Slowly, my vision got blurry and felt darkness overtake me.
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Quietly, I climbed down the rope ladder and sat with my back against the tree trunk. It was cold tonight, but I didn't care. Sighing, I pulled out my pocket knife and started blindly twirling it around. Within minuets I had a new set of cuts on my finger tips, and small droplets of blood had covered the blade. The pricks of pain felt good, but I knew it was a bad idea to continue this. Still, I kept twirling the small knife in my hands, every now and then switching to my other hand. Life was so confusing now, it wasn't even funny.