Personal Fic~
Another personal fic, one kind of more.... depressing. >.< It's based off of a roleplay I had with alifeofourown a while ago. About my character, James.
WARNING: Suicide
For the most part, James wasn’t even really paying attention to anything that was going on. Everything was passing in something of a blur, and only a few key things stood out to him. Watching the world speed by while getting a ride home from Carter’s sister. Walking up the stairs while taking off the jacket he’d been wearing to the funeral while walking up his stairs to his house. Carelessly dropping the jacket in the kitchen and walking slowly towards the cutlery drawer. Everything sort of went by in a dream-like state, and he felt like he was floating. But the feeling, the heavy, pained feeling that lingered in almost every part of him, it was impossible to even think he was ‘floating’. Falling deeper and deeper, deeper into that state of hopelessness he’d come to be so familiar with.
His walk up the stairs came into slightly clearer focus, and memories floated through his mind, and it was getting harder and harder to not cry, or scream. He’d promised himself he wouldn’t start crying, because then he wouldn’t be able to stop, and he couldn’t let everything get away from him. He had to do this. This last thing, and then he could cry as much as he wanted.
James walked into the bathroom, keeping his head down as he lightly placed the knife he’d taken out of the kitchen on the edge of the bathtub, moving to turn on the water. It was cold, but he didn’t care. It wouldn’t matter. The loud, sudden sound of the water spilling into the porcelain tub made him jump a little, and he bit down hard on his lip, biting back the squeak that wanted to follow.
“Stop it,” he whimpered quietly, shaking his head as he walked quickly from the bathroom, towards his room. “You can do this…” He could. He had to.
But, of course, being faced with a room that held so many perfect, wonderful memories… It was nearly impossible to hold himself together. James did his best to not look around too much; only looking for the one thing he knew he wanted. He reached his bedside table, grabbing the slightly-oversized teddy bear Carter had won for him at the fair in November. He tried not to let himself remember too much of the day, simply pulled the stuffed toy tightly against his chest, standing in place for a long moment, holding onto it and breathing in the faint hints of carter’s smell that still clung to the fine hairs of the bear. It made his stomach roll uncomfortably, and he almost collapsed right then and there.
Somehow, though. Somehow, he managed to force himself to slowly walk out of his bedroom, closing the door behind himself. It felt like it took hours to finally walk back into that tiny bathroom, and his heart sunk a little more with every step. Hadn’t he been taught that suicide was a sin? Though, being with another guy, that was sinning too. Maybe he could get away with just one more thing, so he could be able to go to heaven with Carter. Because he knew, knew that Carter was in heaven. That was the only place someone as perfect and beautiful as him could possibly go.
By now, the tub was nearly full, and that was fine with James. He shut and, after a moment of thought, locked the bathroom door, tugging off the shirt he was wearing and glancing in the mirror. His face was pale, and he was somewhat shocked to see how lifeless his own eyes looked to him. After a second, though, it made sense. He didn’t have a life without Carter. He had nothing to live for without him. He let out a quiet, empty-sounding laugh, kicking off his shoes and crossing to the tub. He turned off the water, lightly skimming his fingertips along the surface of the cool liquid, smiling weakly.
He slowly, carefully got into the tub, being extra careful not to get the teddy bear wet. Not yet. He once again jumped a little, but this time at the sudden cold, and it took him a long moment to quit shivering and pay attention to what he was doing. The fog was gone. All his attention and concentration was on this now. He picked up the knife carefully, looking at it. It was a steak knife, and a fairly new steak knife at that. The edge was still sharp and unused. He had a momentary surge of guilt for ruining his mom’s nice knife, but it faded away quickly. His gaze strayed from the knife to his own arms, looking for the main vein on each one. That was where he hoped to hit, for the most part, and anything else was just for good measure.
Slowly, he brought the knife’s edge to the inside of his arm, holding it towards himself. He pressed down, until he felt the cold metal bite into his skin, letting out a short spurt of blood. He couldn’t help but let out a tiny noise of pain. He closed his eyes tightly, dragging the knife down hard down his arm, nearly to his wrist. Trying to be quick about it, he carved two slightly smaller cuts on either side of the big one, and went to do the same to the other side. The pain was terrible, but it was nothing compared to the agony he kept pent up within himself, agony over his lover’s death. By the end of the third cut on his right arm, he could barely feel his left, and the knife slipped from his fingers and into the water.
Deftly, he reached out and grabbed onto the teddy bear, pulling it as tightly to his chest as he could manage. The water around him was turning a dark red, and his vision was going hazy, but the last thing he did before giving in to the fuzzy darkness that was building around the edges of his vision was lean into the bear, taking a tiny sniff of the smell that he missed so much. Past the metallic burn of his own blood, it was there.
And as his tears started to fall, and his eyes fell shut, a smile touched his lips.
He was going to him.