Post by bloodangel666 on Dec 25, 2006 1:09:59 GMT -5
He sat at the kitchen table, sipping his coffee. He needed to sober, before he past out in a pile of his own vomit. Dressed in his faded jean jacket and a pair of old, black jeans. He watched the blood drip from his broken arm onto the table, staining the pine it was made of. His apartment was a mess, large holes knocked in the wall and a slight flood starting around his feet.
His eyes were growing heavy but he forced himself to stay awake, waiting until the room stopped spinning before shutting off the water in his apartment. He didn’t care if he bled to death, just as long as he had a warm place to die and a way to escape the pain.
He was stupid when he was drunk and he knew he was stupid, but the alcohol was the only way he knew to numb his pain. She was gone, and he couldn’t do a thing to stop it, after all, he was asleep when she left.
There was a knock at the door, but he ignored it.
“Damn solicitors,” He muttered to himself, picking up the pieces of broken china and noticing the stain in his carpet. He knelt, and ran his hand over it, remembering the night it had all happened. He closed his eyes, getting his breathing under control before standing back up. He didn’t want to cry, he couldn’t cry anymore, he was too weak and felt too old. When she left, he felt old, never so much as now when he knew he had lost everything.
He sat in front of his TV flipping through the channels, trying to see what was on. He felt his arm heal, the alcohol fading from his system, and the ever jittery effects of the two pots of coffee he had just consumed.
“I loved you. He loved you… Why did I make you go? I’m such a fuck up..”
He got up slowly, making his way to the bathroom. He took out a needle and boiled his curse, filling the needle as it slowly liquefied. He got out and elastic, tying it tightly around his bicep before finding his vein. He gently poked the needle under his skin and into the small, untapped vein. He let go and let the liquid poison into his body. He ripped off the elastic and waited for what he knew was coming.
The pain tore through his body like the fires of hell, hitting his brain and causing a horrible, scream to fly out of his mouth. He wanted it to stop, his body needed it to stop, he got up, ramming his head into the sink, breaking the porcelain clear in two. He knew he shouldn’t have done that, but he couldn’t help it and fell to the floor, catching his arm in between the back of the toilet and the wall. He felt it tear out of its socket, and everything start to go hazy, the relentless pain never seeming to end, until it all went black. Before everything completely stopped in his own little world, he heard himself say,
“She couldn’t ever have loved me… What kind of vampire could ever fall in love with an old, pathetic werewolf… Why did I chase her away?” In a tongue he wished he no longer knew.
His eyes were growing heavy but he forced himself to stay awake, waiting until the room stopped spinning before shutting off the water in his apartment. He didn’t care if he bled to death, just as long as he had a warm place to die and a way to escape the pain.
He was stupid when he was drunk and he knew he was stupid, but the alcohol was the only way he knew to numb his pain. She was gone, and he couldn’t do a thing to stop it, after all, he was asleep when she left.
There was a knock at the door, but he ignored it.
“Damn solicitors,” He muttered to himself, picking up the pieces of broken china and noticing the stain in his carpet. He knelt, and ran his hand over it, remembering the night it had all happened. He closed his eyes, getting his breathing under control before standing back up. He didn’t want to cry, he couldn’t cry anymore, he was too weak and felt too old. When she left, he felt old, never so much as now when he knew he had lost everything.
He sat in front of his TV flipping through the channels, trying to see what was on. He felt his arm heal, the alcohol fading from his system, and the ever jittery effects of the two pots of coffee he had just consumed.
“I loved you. He loved you… Why did I make you go? I’m such a fuck up..”
He got up slowly, making his way to the bathroom. He took out a needle and boiled his curse, filling the needle as it slowly liquefied. He got out and elastic, tying it tightly around his bicep before finding his vein. He gently poked the needle under his skin and into the small, untapped vein. He let go and let the liquid poison into his body. He ripped off the elastic and waited for what he knew was coming.
The pain tore through his body like the fires of hell, hitting his brain and causing a horrible, scream to fly out of his mouth. He wanted it to stop, his body needed it to stop, he got up, ramming his head into the sink, breaking the porcelain clear in two. He knew he shouldn’t have done that, but he couldn’t help it and fell to the floor, catching his arm in between the back of the toilet and the wall. He felt it tear out of its socket, and everything start to go hazy, the relentless pain never seeming to end, until it all went black. Before everything completely stopped in his own little world, he heard himself say,
“She couldn’t ever have loved me… What kind of vampire could ever fall in love with an old, pathetic werewolf… Why did I chase her away?” In a tongue he wished he no longer knew.