Part One

I clutched my jowl in pain as I looked at my face in the mirror. It had not always been this way. He used to be loving; he used to protect me and my fragile mind; now, he feeds to the ravenous thoughts that yammer in my mind constantly.

'Why' I thought to myself as the pain slowly began to subside.

'Why me?'

You called me a faggot today and I guess that it was fair because it was true. You knew that I was talking to someone else. Someone who actually cared. Someone who could veil my thoughts. Someone who I now idolize more than whatever demon stood in front of me not even 5 agonizing minutes ago. They actually cared. Looking in the mirror I could see the shadow of what I once was and it disgusted me. I was content living with the demon until he started taking all of his anger out on me in bursts. Slowly, I made my way over to the tub and turned it on. I was done. This was it; I had finally reached my breaking point. All the times that you called me a faggot and other vulgar names had finally got to me. As the tub slowly filled I reached into the cabinet and pulled out the pills that were once meant to help me.

'This is it' I thought once more as I uncapped the mostly full bottle.

Everything was fine before when I could control the demon. Sure, we would quibble every blue moon, that's just a part of life. He grew old of me. My thoughts, the way I looked, how I would starve myself just to please him. He was bored of everything that was a part of me. That was okay though. Everyone gets tired of me eventually. Thinking back now, I should have left this godforsaken apartment when he hovered a knife over my body occasionally making precise lines in my brittle skin wherever he saw fit. Hell, even know I could remember the pathetic shriek that would dare leave my mouth whenever he would make a line too deep. Knowing what I was going to do, I brought my journal with me to compose a letter to him. He was the only one that would care that I was gone. I wasn't talking about the demon then, I was talking about the only one who cared. He would be devastated at first, but he would get over it. He would move on, that was certain.

After composing my final words on the paper the bath was finally full. I grabbed the pills and started to take them one at a time, savoring the moment; savoring the feeling of the green and white pills going down my throat for this was the last thing I will consume anything. Slowly I reached into my back pocket to grab my old friend. It had been a while since I had held the now rusted object and I noticed that I had not cleaned it since the last time I had used it. Not that it mattered now. I descended into the boiling water fully clothed and submerged myself, thinking of your. The way you smiled, the way you the corner of your eyes slightly crinkled whenever you smiled, the splendid shade of hazel that your eyes are made up of, I thought of you. I thought of you when I brought the rusted blade to my wrist and started my final masterpiece while silently praying that you will forgive me. Slowly I felt myself wain in and out of consciousness, I prayed to a god that may or may not exist. I prayed that you would forever be happy.

____________________________________________________________________________