Sequel: Running With Scissors ›
Those Worse Off Than You
Part 105
There was a gang up the road. I smiled discustingly as I limped over to them and said a lot of shit. Shit most people would never say uless they wanted the shit beaten out of them. But I did want the shit beaten out of me. And that's what I got. Blow after beautiful blow. Smack after angelic smack. Kick after painful kick. Push after peaceful push.
And with each blow, kick, smack, push... I became more insane. It became more clear to me what I needed to do. I realized what the only thing to fix this problem was. I was going to fix the broken. That's all I thought through the entire time I was ganged up on- I was going to fix the broken.
I was going to fix the broken...
I blinked heavily as I gasped for air when they were satisfied with what they had done. I liked their style... they hurt their victims severely... but left them concious enough to feel the pain. That's all I wanted, was the feel the pain.
I was weak. I was stupid. I was useless. I was going to fix the borken.
I forced myself to stand, shaking more with each step- forcing myself to move. I knew I had to move quickly- rush hour would be over in a while. I stumbled quickly to the place I knew I wanted to go. Carefully approaching a man well hidden under a long dirty trenchcoat. He looked up at me with brown, dirty teeth and I scrambled through my pockets for the money I did have on me, holding it out to him.
I bought as much cocaine as I could afford and continued on my way. I hid under a bridge on the way there and did all of it. Enough to overdose half a dozen times on. And I smiled the whole time. I hadn't done it in a long time... and I knew the side effects would be extremely harsh. I loved harsh- I longed for harsh. I was anxiously excited and proud. I had finally snapped and I was taking control.
I had the car, and I was steering it off the road to avoid the head on collision- I was helping the people around me. I didn't want to hurt them anymore. It was the loving sacrifice. It was the right thing to do.
I was going to fix the broken...
And with each blow, kick, smack, push... I became more insane. It became more clear to me what I needed to do. I realized what the only thing to fix this problem was. I was going to fix the broken. That's all I thought through the entire time I was ganged up on- I was going to fix the broken.
I was going to fix the broken...
I blinked heavily as I gasped for air when they were satisfied with what they had done. I liked their style... they hurt their victims severely... but left them concious enough to feel the pain. That's all I wanted, was the feel the pain.
I was weak. I was stupid. I was useless. I was going to fix the borken.
I forced myself to stand, shaking more with each step- forcing myself to move. I knew I had to move quickly- rush hour would be over in a while. I stumbled quickly to the place I knew I wanted to go. Carefully approaching a man well hidden under a long dirty trenchcoat. He looked up at me with brown, dirty teeth and I scrambled through my pockets for the money I did have on me, holding it out to him.
I bought as much cocaine as I could afford and continued on my way. I hid under a bridge on the way there and did all of it. Enough to overdose half a dozen times on. And I smiled the whole time. I hadn't done it in a long time... and I knew the side effects would be extremely harsh. I loved harsh- I longed for harsh. I was anxiously excited and proud. I had finally snapped and I was taking control.
I had the car, and I was steering it off the road to avoid the head on collision- I was helping the people around me. I didn't want to hurt them anymore. It was the loving sacrifice. It was the right thing to do.
I was going to fix the broken...