Suicide Notes Of a New York Love Affair
Reunited
One month later
Sonny’s POV
I stumbled into the kitchen and grabbed the nearest bottle around me. It was empty. I dropped it on the floor, my muscles weak and my eyes were hurting like hell. I tried to run my fingers through my hair but they just collided with a mass of knots. Hair Mikey had once loved, I thought sadly to myself, feeling the tears build up in my sore, tired eyes.
It had been about a week after Mikey’s death that I had started drinking and taking heroin. I didn’t really care about life anymore. Most days I would stagger past the list of the dead and read it again and again, not being able to believe it. Every time I drank I would try and forget what happened to Mikey but it never did, not even numbing the pain. Whenever I drunk the numerous bottles of Vodka and Whiskey around me, visions of Mikey would appear in my head, terrifying ones. Some of seeing another version of myself killing him, strangling him until he couldn’t breathe…
I stared at my reflection in the mirror as I swayed in front of.
“You’re a fucking wreck, d’you know that?” I said to him. I picked up the syringe on the filthy table and found my heroin next to some old photos of Mikey and I. As I injected the Heroin into my system I looked at the stained photographs on the table.
“Soon, we shall be together. This is for you.”
As I felt the adrenalin rush through my veins, I took up my razor and began to cut my wrists. Streams of blood ran down my wrists, making zigzagged patterns as they crisscrossed over my arms. I knelt down on the ground as I could feel the life draining out of me.
“Sonny? You there? Let me in for fuck’s sake,” I could hear Mikey’s voice coming from the door but I ignored it. It was probably just another bad trip about Mikey and had some sentimental value about it, but I didn’t care about that now, I just wanted to die, alone and unloved.
“I swear to God I will break down this door if you don’t let me in,” I could hear Mikey saying. Again I did nothing. I could feel drowsy and I was getting double vision. I fell onto the floor and closed my eyes.
BANG.
The door was thrown off its hinges and I saw Mikey standing there, dirty and panic stricken.
“Sonny! What the fuck are you doing?”
“Go away, you’re just a hallucination. You don’t exist,” I closed my eyes, why couldn’t I die in peace…
“No, Sonny, get up right now.”
“God fine,” I struggled to get up but I could only reach my knees. I looked up to him but he had already kneeled in front of me. God, my reactions were slow with this amount of Heroin in my system.
“What have you done to yourself?” Mikey said quietly, watching the blood dripping off my fingers almost unbearably.
“You’re not real, you’re dead…” I started. Mikey had pulled me towards him by my blood-stained hands and was kissing me passionately, our tongues exploring each other’s mouths, blood spilling over our hands, our clothes, our hair, but we didn’t care. This wasn’t a hallucination; this was real life. We were here, living and breathing, sharing our love.
We were alive.
Sonny’s POV
I stumbled into the kitchen and grabbed the nearest bottle around me. It was empty. I dropped it on the floor, my muscles weak and my eyes were hurting like hell. I tried to run my fingers through my hair but they just collided with a mass of knots. Hair Mikey had once loved, I thought sadly to myself, feeling the tears build up in my sore, tired eyes.
It had been about a week after Mikey’s death that I had started drinking and taking heroin. I didn’t really care about life anymore. Most days I would stagger past the list of the dead and read it again and again, not being able to believe it. Every time I drank I would try and forget what happened to Mikey but it never did, not even numbing the pain. Whenever I drunk the numerous bottles of Vodka and Whiskey around me, visions of Mikey would appear in my head, terrifying ones. Some of seeing another version of myself killing him, strangling him until he couldn’t breathe…
I stared at my reflection in the mirror as I swayed in front of.
“You’re a fucking wreck, d’you know that?” I said to him. I picked up the syringe on the filthy table and found my heroin next to some old photos of Mikey and I. As I injected the Heroin into my system I looked at the stained photographs on the table.
“Soon, we shall be together. This is for you.”
As I felt the adrenalin rush through my veins, I took up my razor and began to cut my wrists. Streams of blood ran down my wrists, making zigzagged patterns as they crisscrossed over my arms. I knelt down on the ground as I could feel the life draining out of me.
“Sonny? You there? Let me in for fuck’s sake,” I could hear Mikey’s voice coming from the door but I ignored it. It was probably just another bad trip about Mikey and had some sentimental value about it, but I didn’t care about that now, I just wanted to die, alone and unloved.
“I swear to God I will break down this door if you don’t let me in,” I could hear Mikey saying. Again I did nothing. I could feel drowsy and I was getting double vision. I fell onto the floor and closed my eyes.
BANG.
The door was thrown off its hinges and I saw Mikey standing there, dirty and panic stricken.
“Sonny! What the fuck are you doing?”
“Go away, you’re just a hallucination. You don’t exist,” I closed my eyes, why couldn’t I die in peace…
“No, Sonny, get up right now.”
“God fine,” I struggled to get up but I could only reach my knees. I looked up to him but he had already kneeled in front of me. God, my reactions were slow with this amount of Heroin in my system.
“What have you done to yourself?” Mikey said quietly, watching the blood dripping off my fingers almost unbearably.
“You’re not real, you’re dead…” I started. Mikey had pulled me towards him by my blood-stained hands and was kissing me passionately, our tongues exploring each other’s mouths, blood spilling over our hands, our clothes, our hair, but we didn’t care. This wasn’t a hallucination; this was real life. We were here, living and breathing, sharing our love.
We were alive.