When Love And Death Embrace

Zacky's POV

You know I can't take this anymore.

I just don't see the point.

But you keep trying.

You won't let me give up.

Why am I even here?

Is it because of you?

Why? Why would you even want to keep someone like me on this earth?

We both know this place would be so much better without me.

You deny it, but I see it in your eyes. I know you just want me to stop whining like a fucking emo bitch and go drown myself in a fucking river somewhere.

Would you report a missing person?

Would you go looking for me?

Would you even fucking notice I wasn't around?

I'm interrupted from my train of thoughts by a sudden movement in the bed.

Our bed.

"Zacky? You awake, hun?"

I stay silent, pretending to still be asleep.

I wait until you get up and leave the room, and I hear the sound of the shower running before I pull myself unwillingly out of bed.

I quietly and slowly make my way to the small kitchen in the apartment we share.

I don't feel much like eating. I don't need to eat... I'm so fat and disgusting...

I don't know how you bare to look at me when we make love...

The kitchen holds no purpose for me at the moment, but I sit and wait patiently for you to get out of the shower and come to the kitchen to start breakfast.

You greet me cheerfully when you do, and I fake a smile and put some effort into a kiss.

You eye me for a moment, briefly wondering what's wrong with me, but then I see dismissal in your expression as you walk the whole three steps it takes to get from the table to the refrigerator.

Sometimes I think it might be this damn apartment that makes me feel the way I do. It's rediculously small, but it's "comfortable for two people", as you said when you tried to convince me that this was the perfect place for us.

Obviously the two of us have very different ideas of confortable.

I sigh and stare at the floor, counting the tiles for about the third time in the past ten minutes.

"Zacky...is something wrong?"

I look up wearily from my task, my apathetic expression meeting your concerned one.

"No, babe, I'm fine. Just a little tired." I fake another small smile, which you obviously don't buy, but you decide it's better not to push, and return to cooking breakfast.

Decide it's better not to push...or just don't care?

After breakfast, you ask me if I want to go to the store with you to pick up a few things for dinner later.

"Nah, I think I'm gonna stay home. I don't feel too good."

You nod sadly, and kiss me on the cheek before heading out.

I stare at the door before walking back to the bedroom to plop down on the bed.

Maybe a shower?

I force myself out of bed once again, slowly pulling my clothes off and dropping them carelessly on the floor and turning the water on.

Something falls out of my pocket. I sigh. It really is sad that I keep a razorblade in my pocket.

Syn's POV

It starts to rain on my way back from the store, and I turn on the windshield wipers. I sigh, staring out the windshield at the gloomy weather, thinking about my love, and his mood lately.

I wish I could do something...but he just won't let me in. No matter how hard I try.

I would do anything to make him happy...and the fact that I can't do anything is killing me.

After pulling into the parking lot of our apartment, I quickly get out of the car and run through the rain to the entrance.

"I'm home, Zacky!" I call as I walk through the door, taking a few steps to the kitchen to set the grocery bags on the counter,

"Zacky?" I open the bedroom door. Not in there.

I go to the bathroom, the last place you could be. "Hun, you in here?" No answer. I pull open the curtain.

I stare in horror as my eyes meet the blood filled water your lifeless body is floating in.

"Zacky?! Baby?? Zacky, please, say something!" I call desperately, pulling your limp body out of the tub and laying it gently on the bathroom floor.

I notice red lines starting to for on your wrist.

Not just red lines. Red lines that formed letters.



"Oh my...Zacky...of course I would. I would do anything for you."

Without a second thought, I stuck my hand in the water and grabbed the razor blade I had seen when I pulled you from the tub.

I placed one last kiss on your cold lips before quickly slicing my wrist open, blood pouring out onto the already wet tile.

Zacky's POV

You are a fool. . .

I wasn't worth it.

I doubted you, and you still loved me.

I don't deserve for you to die for me.