WAY Out of place

One Year Ago..

.

I stood before a disgusting sink covered in filth, leaning over it, surrounded by a grungy old bathroom. Knife in hand, I grit my teeth and dug into the already open hole in my shoulder. It stung fiercely, the cold steel burning as it further opened the swollen orifice. I gave out a low groan of pain as the blood began to pour out, the already blood caked wound re-opening. I twisted it as it went deeper into my shoulder, the cause having just stopped before reaching bone. I hit something hard with a soft clink and shut my eyes. I knew this was gonna hurt. The knife's edge slid between the piece of metal and flesh, working it's way down. I pulled down on the handle, the knife turning and slowly pulling out, dragging something along. With a sickening pop the piece of lead was extracted, falling down into the small puddle of blood forming in the sink with a loud clink.

I dropped the knife in with it, reaching for the bottle of vodka sitting on the disgusting toilet. I grabbed the bottle, opening it with my teeth and pouring the contents onto my shoulder. The sting was worse than any other antiseptic I knew. The clear alcohol rinsed out the hole and dripped into the sink. I placed the spout of the bottle to my lips, lifting it directly up and swallowing mouthfuls of it. I sat down the toilet, setting the bottle down on the floor and reached for knife in the sink. My other hand dug into my pocket, pulling out my lighter. I flicked off the lid and ran my thumb along the wheel, holding down the button. Sparks flew, but no flame. I tried it again and had similar results. Growing irritated, I gave it one more go. I pressed my thumb down on the button and turning the wheel. Sparks flew and flame of orange and yellow rose from it.

I smirked and held the knife over the flame warming it. You had to have been shot. That was what I needed. That was the one thing left I'd needed to do before I could take President. The last one retired from the group, having gotten too old to even ride anymore. I guess you could say I was practically asking for it when I did take the bullet. I took it like a man too. With a big shit eating grin on my face. In no time at all the knife was hot, smoke rising from it and a slight red tinge to it. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, bracing for the worst of it. I pressed the knife down against the bullet hole, the hot metal burning at the skin and flesh, closing the wound. I gave a scream of agony as I pressed it down harder. The smell of burning skin and dried blood scattered the room. Enough to make someone vomit. Nothing really phased me anymore though.

I peeled the knife away from the freshly burned injury, another one of my some-what twisted smiles of satisfaction. I tossed the knife back into the sink, turning it on. Pocketing my lighter, I held out my hand to rinse off the blood on it. I wiped my wet hand through my thick mohawk, sleeking it back. I watched as the blood inside the grungy sink ran down the drain with a low gurgle. I grabbed the bottle off the floor, taking another sip. I held it in one hand as I grabbed my jacket from the door handle, slipping my arm through a sleeve. I swapped hands and slipped through the other comfortably. I looked down to my left shoulder, now having something else to be proud of aside from my white wing.

I pushed through the door back into the main room of the club house. A roar of cheers and howls to be found.

I watched the last of it go down, remembering the day that I used to think made me who I was. The day that gave me a new lease on what I could do. I was free of restriction and weakness. I was at the top of the pinnacle. I was... I was... Nothing. Same as I was now. Just another festering pile of shit in the world. Probably the only one in this world. It made me feel even more of the monster I was. I sighed and turned around pushing through the door. To my surprise, on the other side was Kian and Twilight. I realized that I hadn't actually closed the door completely and that they had just seen me let out my anger on that mirror. Twilight held a worried expression while Kian stared blankly.

I hung my head low. "I guess Bleak was right. I'll just go back to being like him." I felt shameful for once in my life. I couldn't even look her in the eye. I just walked past them into the living room. I slumped down, sitting on the couch like a human. I sat there, oblivious to everything. I felt empty, hollow almost. All I wanted was to live normal, but the problem with that is: I can't. I just plain can't. It's a paradox. I want to be something. But what I am keeps me from being it. That just goes to show you how shit life can be.

Twilight sat down beside me, holding onto my foreleg. "What's wrong?" She asked.

"Nothing's wrong, Twi." I sighed. "What could possibly be wrong?"

"Don't expect me to believe that was an accident." She said sternly.

"It's nothing for you to worry about." I groaned.

"Nothing to worry about? You hurt yourself. Why shouldn't I worry?" She asked, growing more upset.

"Because it's nothing to do with you and it's my own fault, that's why!" I snapped.

She looked away sadly. That was now the second time today I'd felt horrible about myself. I just wanted to be snuffed out on the spot.

"We can't all just push our problems away." She said softly. "There's a point when we have to just end it. When we have to step up and fix them."