Sorrow Swallows My Screams

Chapter Five

Chapter Five:

Zacky’s POV:

I woke up to the beautiful sensation of having arms wrapped around me. Personally, I think there is no better way to wake up than that. It’s always when I wake up the most contently, when I have someone wrapped around me. I felt a smile rise on my face.

“Mikey…” I mumbled. I opened my eyes and turned around, gasping. I saw that it wasn’t Mikey, it was Brian whose arms were wrapped around my waist from behind me, and everything came flooding back to me. I mentally cursed at myself, and had to resist the urge to get up and leave. Leave, and never come back, to anywhere. To try to take my life again.

But those thoughts were pushed aside when I felt Brian stir beside - behind, whatever it is - me. He looked uncomfortable when he realised he had his arms around me, and he awkwardly slid them from around me. He propped himself up on his pillow and whispered, “Sorry.”

“It’s okay, Bri.” Bri? What the fuck? Bri? I’m not his fucking boyfriend, geesh. He was obviously thinking the same thing - or something along those lines - and blushed. Sure, he was already blushing from when he worked out he was cuddling me in his sleep, but he was blushing more now.

“That’s good,” he whispered, blushing a brighter shade of red. This boy sure does blush a lot. Is that normal? For him, I mean. Does he usually blush that much? Or just around me?

I need to stop thinking that way. I love Mikey. You’ll never get him back. Shut up, when have you ever helped? When you jumped off that bridge, that was the best thing you ever did. No, it wasn’t, it was stupid. Why, because you didn’t succeed? Because you’re such a fuck up that you can’t even kill yourself right? SHUT UP!

“Hey, I’m gonna run downstairs and make us some breakfast. I’ll bring it up here, kay? What do you want?”

I didn’t really care. “Whatever you’re having.” He nodded and disappeared downstairs, presumably into the kitchen.

I didn’t like what I had in mind right now. But what were my options? Exactly, I didn’t have any. I was going to punish myself from not dying on impact with that stupid fucking water. Not to mention for thinking some thoughts about Brian that I shouldn't have...

I silently slipped out into the hall. I crept down a few stairs to see Brian in the kitchen - as I’d guessed - making breakfast. I could hear him humming a song to himself. So now that Brian’s out of the way…

I quickly entered the upstairs bathroom. I opened a few drawers until I found what it was that I was looking for. A razor. These things had helped me so much in the short period of time between Mikey’s death and my attempted suicide.

I glanced over my shoulder, making sure the door was closed all the way. It was. I dragged the razor over my wrist, digging it in as deep as I could. I winced at the sight of my blood beginning to spill out over the end of my sleeves of my rolled-up hoodie. Did I mention that I hate the sight of blood? Needless to say why I didn’t choose a gorier way to try and kill myself.

After making a nice cut - long and deep - I pulled the razor from my skin for a few moments before sitting it back against my flesh. I hesitated for a few seconds, before pulling it roughly across again. I did it slower this time, deeper, too, forcing myself to really feel the pain. Right now I wasn’t trying to kill myself.

I was trying to punish myself.

I repeated the process several more times, making sure to not let my moans of pain escape my lips. You know, when I came in here, I kind of had a little outline in my head. It being: Enter bathroom, find razor, cut wrists, clean up, hide wrist from Brian, and go back out and pretend nothing out of the ordinary ever happened.

This was not how I expected it to be.

I didn’t expect someone to walk in the fucking door.