Some Say Death Is The Only Answer
Why did it have to be this way?
I run to my house, holding in my tears, trying not to let my sadness show. I can feel the tears stinging in my magenta eyes as they bubble up, blurring my vision. I can hardly see where I’m going. I blink a few times, clearing away the tears, letting them run down my face, which is red and puffy. I bring my arms up to my face and wipe away the tears, trying not to think about it all.
I pause for a moment, take a few deep breaths, let my vision clear up. I look to both my sides once I can see clearly, making sure nobody I know is around me. I blink a few more times, and then turn to look behind me, to see if he’s following me. But of course, he’s not. Why would he follow me after what he said, what he did?
I sighed and tried not to cry any more as I continue walking to my house. Once I’m inside and I’m sure nobody’s watching me, I set my emotions free. Tears roll down my face, giant, heaping sobs escape my lips. I press my hand to my mouth, trying to hold in my sobs, the tears continue rolling down my face, onto my hand and down my forearm.
The salty tears sting my fresh cuts and my sharp intake of breath interrupts my crying and sobbing for a moment. I remove my hand from my mouth and run to my room. I carefully wipe the tears off my arm with my blanket. I sit down on my bed, the occasional tears streaming down my cheek. I wipe it away with my other hand.
I pull down my loose sleeve and look at my scared arm. The once thin, light red cuts were now puffy and thick, throbbing painfully. I moan softly, enjoying the pain it gives me. I look around my room, searching for something sharp I can use.
“What did I use last time?” I ask myself. I can’t remember, and end up just laying back on my bed, enjoying the pain. I close my eyes, the pain slowly fades away, and in its place, comes emotional pain.
I started thinking of him. I couldn’t get myself to think of anything else. He had been everything to me, and he had left me, just like that. All those days and nights we had spent together. Did they all mean nothing to him?
Tears began streaming down my face once more. “Oh, Soarin….” I said to myself. I grabbed a pillow and held it tightly to my chest and face, wishing it could be him. Wishing I could feel his arms around me again. Wishing I could kiss him, feel his lips pressed against mine.
More tears poured down my face, and depression washed over me. I sat up and looked around my bedroom, searching for my razor. I suddenly jumped off my bed, remembering where I had left it the last time I used it, two days ago.
I pick it up, feeling the cool metal of the sharp blade in my hand. I sigh softly, I press the cool blade to my hot face, relishing in the sensation it give me. I close my eyes and let the metal cool my hot face. I slowly walk back over to the bed. I look at the head of my bed, at the sloppy, twisted sheets and at the pillows scattered around, hardly organized at all. Memories flooded through me, remembering the nights that Soarin and I spent together here.
The happiness I had felt moments ago dissipated and in its place was and sadness. I held the razor up, examining the sharp blade. I pressed the tip of my finger to it, pressing hard. A thin trail of blood ran down my finger, dripping off my hand and onto the sheets of my bed. A few more drops drip down.
I love the sight of blood. I love pain. I’m a sadomasochist. Watching people suffer and harming myself both bring me immense pleasure. It’s weird sometimes, but once I get used to it all over again, I let the pleasure take over.
I roll up my sleeve, revealing my injured arm. I hold the insanely sharp razor over my arm, pressing down gently. It’s so sharp than a very thin trail of blood runs down my arm. I press down harder and swipe down quickly, creating a new thick cut in my flesh. I moan softly and continue to make more cuts.
More tears roll down my face as I continue to think of Soarin, of how he betrayed me; but the cutting feels so good. The blood running down my arm is releasing so much tension, so much pain I had been holding in.
I don’t know what to do, I don’t know what to feel. Should I let the pain overtake me and just end my life now? Like I’ve been dreaming of for ages? Or should I let the pleasure of the pain overtake me and continue living, hoping that my life will get better, like I’ve done many times before. I continue slashing at my arm with the razor as pain and pleasure fight for dominance in my mind.
My slashing slows and my mind begins to wander. Everything I ever wanted, I lost it all. I dreamed my whole life about becoming a Wonderbolt, and it never happened. I dreamed my whole life about having someone to call my own. I had him, but he betrayed me, he left me.
I grit my teeth hard together, the cuts on my arm grow in size and depth. Before I know it, I’ve cut so hard, so deep into a vein or an artery. Blood gushes out of my arm, I feel myself getting lightheaded. I stop cutting, I drop the razor onto my bed. Darkness brims in the sides of my vision.
Somewhere in the back of my mind I hear a voice. It’s the voice of a man, a very familiar voice, I hear thumping, almost like footsteps. I turn to my doorway, I feel myself getting dizzy, the world growing darker. I see a familiar male figure standing in my doorway, staring down at me. I collapse onto the floor. I close my eyes and the darkness surrounds me.
“Rainbow Dash!” I hear in a fuzzy voice before my hearing cuts out. The darkness surround me completely, and then there’s a white light in the center of my vision. I reach out my hand towards it and start to go towards it. Instead of walking, it seems like I’m floating. I let myself be led to the bright, white light.
Once I reach the light, I feel all my pain, all my suffering just disappear into nothingness. All that’s left is good feelings. These feelings all rush through my body in a split second and then, instead of darkness, everything just goes blank. Then there’s nothing. No sound. No light. No color. No warmth. No cold. Everything is just gone.