I couldn't kill him
Title: Self Inflicted Pain
Rating/Warning: R/ self mutilation, attempted suicide
Parings: ZhouHyuk
Word Count: Word says 1,933
Disclaimer because people seem to think ts needed: Last time I checked I owned myself and no one else and It's Illegal... but they might own me!
A/N: Inspiration from thoughts and listening to Three Days Grace and Hollywood Undead
Summary: Ever wander what It feels like to die?
He felt the blade slide across his leg and felt a sudden rush of pain leaving his body as the blood poured out of his body. It wasn’t his first cut and it was probably not his last. He had always wanted to know what pain felt like. He was even curious of what dying felt like.
When Heechul was in a car accident after Donghae’s father’s funeral, he wanted to know how it felt, so he asked him. Heechul gave him a look of, ’what are you crazy,’ and told him to get out. That was probably why they were never close. Heechul had also told Leeteuk about the question so he couldn’t hurt himself for a few weeks after that.
When Kyuhyun was the worst out of the five of them to be hurt in the car accident they were in, he was upset. Not only because Kyuhyun could have died, but because he wanted to be the one that was going to die. He wanted to know how it felt.
Hurting himself intentionally or on accident had always been an exciting thing for him. He enjoyed the pain so much he was worried the other members were going to see the scars on his arms that seemed to be getting deeper. So Instead of stopping he started mutilating his upper legs; knowing no one would ever see the damage.
People always thought he was clumsy- falling off the stage, falling during live performances. He was also called a perfectionist dancer- practicing for hours. He would practice until he thought he couldn’t dance anymore because of the exhaustion, and then keep going. They all thought he shouldn’t fall so much because of the long practice times, but no one ever put two and two together, and he was grateful.
He would get nervous when Donghae practiced with him. Donghae would make him stop dancing and that upset him. Donghae thought it was because he just wanted things to be perfect, but he was disappointed that he had to stop.
On several days he wouldn’t eat anything at all. He loved the feeling of hunger and the feeling of his stomach eating itself, but it wasn’t really doing that; he was just that hungry. He couldn’t do this often because Ryeowook or Hangeng would notice and make him eat. Then he would over eat. He would make sure he was so full his stomach felt like it would explode; then he ate more. After that he would go to the bathroom to take a shower, and throw up.
His showers were always too hot or too cold. On days the weather was hot the shower would be turned hot. He loved the pain of his skin burning. The days it would snow the shower was freezing cold. He loved the feeling of water hitting him like ice.
When he found out that the company was treating Hangeng badly he was again upset for two reasons. He wanted to be the one abused by the company, beaten and never given a break. Hangeng didn’t deserve it, but he did. Because he wanted to know how it felt.
He occasionally liked emotional pain too. Though, not as much as the physical pain. He hardly got any emotional satisfaction from the anti-fans. Again, the ones that received most of the anti-fans wrath, Henry and Zhou Mi, didn’t deserve It. They were good people, and he was just sick. But no one knew. He wished someone would figure it out already.
He sighed loudly making another cut on his leg making the two cuts look like an x. He was alone in the dorms. No one would be back for a few hours; just enough time for the cuts to scab over and him to be asleep. He didn’t want the members to see him like this. He had also been drinking since the other members left. He was on his eighth bottle of soju and the lighter on his vanity was starting to look inviting.
He had never played with fire before. He wondered briefly why he hadn’t; the flame must cause great pain to a person’s skin. Without even thinking he took off his shirt; leaving him in only his boxers and a muscle shirt. He picked up the lighter and ignited the flame. It took him about two seconds to decide to heat the knife up and press it to his shoulder. The heat and blade felt like a new type of pain, and he loved It. The heat on his skin wasn’t like the heat from the shower; it was hotter, more pleasurable. He wanted more.
He heated up the blade three more times slitting each of his limbs with the hot knife; each time wanting more. The fifth time he put the blade in the flame he looked at himself in the mirror. Tears were flowing from his eyes and he didn’t care. He just wanted the pain. It made him feel good. No matter how many fans he had that screamed his name at performances, his true happiness came from self torture. He took the knife and slit his torso through his shirt. It felt amazing.
He then lit a candle and watched it burn. While watching the candle burn, he made more cuts on his arms and legs. They were smaller but deeper than he had ever cut himself before. The blood ran out of his body and he laughed. He loved the pain. He didn’t care anymore about anything but pain.
He took the candle off the counter and stuck his fingers into the wax. It was hot, and inviting. He poured the wax onto his legs and hissed. The wax had slid over his legs and into the cuts. He looked into the mirror again and decided he wanted to die.
The curiosity was killing him. He wanted to know what it felt like to die; it was probably way more exhilarating than the simple cuts, dancing, starving, falling. He got up off of his bed and walked to the door. Blood continued to come out of his wounds and dripped onto the floor, but he didn’t care. He left a trail of blood all the way to the balcony. He had stepped out and was looking at the traffic below when he heard the door to the dorm open. For a second he wondered who it was, before looking back at the earth. He didn’t care. They could watch him fall; if they wanted to.
He heard someone gasp; they must have seen the blood. Then footsteps came closer to him and he turned around to see Zhou Mi staring at him. Zhou Mi looked shocked. He guessed one would be shocked if they found a band mate and friend standing on the balcony of the dorms covered in blood, burns and wax.
“Eunhyuk what are you doing?” He faintly heard Zhou Mi whisper.
“I’m feeling. I wonder what it’s like to die… I’m going to find out.” He said and began to lean back on the railing- smiling.
Zhou Mi’s eyes widened and he reached out to Eunhyuk grabbing his hand just as Eunhyuk fell back over the railing. This caused Eunhyuk to hit the railing and the wall hard; his smile faltered “Let me go.”
“No,” Zhou Mi said, “I won’t! We need you! We care for you, and the fans!”
Eunhyuk smiled a sad smile, “That doesn’t matter. I can’t feel it… I can feel this. Now let me go.”
“I won’t,” Zhou Mi stated calmly and looked right into Eunhyuk’s eyes, “We love you-I love you. Don’t do this please.”
Zhou Mi began to cry and Eunhyuk’s eyes widened. Did the taller man really love him? Did he really mean that much to him? Well obviously; he had a death grip on Eunhyuk’s arm. That must have meant something. He looked away from Zhou Mi, “I don’t deserve your love.” For the first time that day he felt his tears flow from his eyes, “I’m a monster-I’m sick.”
“We can help you!” Zhou Mi said pulling on Eunhyuk’s arm, “please,” he begged, “I love you.”
Eunhyuk choked, and pulled himself up. Zhou Mi helped him over the railing and they fell to the floor in a heap. Eunhyuk hugged the taller man and cried into his chest until the sky began to darken.
The other members found them when the evening became twilight. Zhou Mi was holding Eunhyuk like his life depended on it. They saw all the blood and called for an ambulance. The members huddled around them until the paramedics arrived. Zhou Mi wouldn’t let him go, so they let him ride with Eunhyuk to the hospital.
Zhou Mi never let go of Eunhyuk’s hand. When they helped Eunhyuk get better; he never left Eunhyuk alone.
He was in the hospital for a few days when they moved him to a, “hospital that can better take care of you and get you better again.” He knew that meant a crazy hospital. But he didn’t care because Zhou Mi stayed with him every second of the day. They weren’t allowed to be together at night but he didn’t care.
Some days he would scream and kick Zhou Mi. He would be in tears when the other arrived and he would go off. He would yell at the taller man blaming him for not being able to feel. The doctors and nurses tried to subdue him, but Zhou Mi wouldn’t allow it. He took the beatings.
Other days he would sit in his bed and stare out of the window and ignore Zhou Mi completely. Zhou Mi took this as a good sign because he would talk to Eunhyuk and the other would sometimes smile softly. However, he would never talk to Zhou Mi civilly.
One day, about six months after Eunhyuk was admitted into the hospital, Zhou Mi entered his room, smiling, and was about to tell him about the others, but Eunhyuk wasn’t there. He panicked. He walked quickly to one of the nurses and she told him Eunhyuk was outside.
Zhou Mi quickly ran outside to look for Eunhyuk. He found him sitting in a secluded area behind the hospital surrounded by flowers.
He sighed in relief. Eunhyuk heard him, “I’m sorry.” Eunhyuk whispered and began to cry.
Zhou Mi sat by him and hugged him murmuring words of comfort to the sorter man. Eunhyuk cried harder and hugged Zhou Mi. They sat there surrounded by flowers until the sun began to set.
They watched the sun fall behind the horizon and Eunhyuk suddenly spoke up, “I don’t want to stay here. I want to feel. I want to care. I want to love.”
“I know you can do it.” Zhou Mi said, “You can get better. Just try.”
“I am… but it hurts.” Eunhyuk said cuddling into Zhou Mi’s side.
“Didn’t wounding yourself hurt too?” Zhou Mi said holding him closer that what he thought possible.
“It’s a different pain. It hurts right here,” Eunhyuk said touching Zhou Mi’s chest.
Zhou Mi chuckled, “love tends to hurt.”
Eunhyuk looked at him incredulously, “then why would you want to feel that pain?”
“Why feel the pain of hurting yourself?” Zhou Mi said looking into Eunhyuk’s eyes.
“I-I don’t know.” Eunhyuk said tearing up. Zhou Mi held him closer. “I want to get better.” Zhou Mi smiled and they sat in a comfortable silence for a few more moments, “Zhou Mi?”
“Yes Eunhyuk?”
“Thank you for saving me.”
~~
A/N: Comments? Thoughts? Concerns? lol Tough love Is love! <3
Rating/Warning: R/ self mutilation, attempted suicide
Parings: ZhouHyuk
Word Count: Word says 1,933
Disclaimer because people seem to think ts needed: Last time I checked I owned myself and no one else and It's Illegal... but they might own me!
A/N: Inspiration from thoughts and listening to Three Days Grace and Hollywood Undead
Summary: Ever wander what It feels like to die?
He felt the blade slide across his leg and felt a sudden rush of pain leaving his body as the blood poured out of his body. It wasn’t his first cut and it was probably not his last. He had always wanted to know what pain felt like. He was even curious of what dying felt like.
When Heechul was in a car accident after Donghae’s father’s funeral, he wanted to know how it felt, so he asked him. Heechul gave him a look of, ’what are you crazy,’ and told him to get out. That was probably why they were never close. Heechul had also told Leeteuk about the question so he couldn’t hurt himself for a few weeks after that.
When Kyuhyun was the worst out of the five of them to be hurt in the car accident they were in, he was upset. Not only because Kyuhyun could have died, but because he wanted to be the one that was going to die. He wanted to know how it felt.
Hurting himself intentionally or on accident had always been an exciting thing for him. He enjoyed the pain so much he was worried the other members were going to see the scars on his arms that seemed to be getting deeper. So Instead of stopping he started mutilating his upper legs; knowing no one would ever see the damage.
People always thought he was clumsy- falling off the stage, falling during live performances. He was also called a perfectionist dancer- practicing for hours. He would practice until he thought he couldn’t dance anymore because of the exhaustion, and then keep going. They all thought he shouldn’t fall so much because of the long practice times, but no one ever put two and two together, and he was grateful.
He would get nervous when Donghae practiced with him. Donghae would make him stop dancing and that upset him. Donghae thought it was because he just wanted things to be perfect, but he was disappointed that he had to stop.
On several days he wouldn’t eat anything at all. He loved the feeling of hunger and the feeling of his stomach eating itself, but it wasn’t really doing that; he was just that hungry. He couldn’t do this often because Ryeowook or Hangeng would notice and make him eat. Then he would over eat. He would make sure he was so full his stomach felt like it would explode; then he ate more. After that he would go to the bathroom to take a shower, and throw up.
His showers were always too hot or too cold. On days the weather was hot the shower would be turned hot. He loved the pain of his skin burning. The days it would snow the shower was freezing cold. He loved the feeling of water hitting him like ice.
When he found out that the company was treating Hangeng badly he was again upset for two reasons. He wanted to be the one abused by the company, beaten and never given a break. Hangeng didn’t deserve it, but he did. Because he wanted to know how it felt.
He occasionally liked emotional pain too. Though, not as much as the physical pain. He hardly got any emotional satisfaction from the anti-fans. Again, the ones that received most of the anti-fans wrath, Henry and Zhou Mi, didn’t deserve It. They were good people, and he was just sick. But no one knew. He wished someone would figure it out already.
He sighed loudly making another cut on his leg making the two cuts look like an x. He was alone in the dorms. No one would be back for a few hours; just enough time for the cuts to scab over and him to be asleep. He didn’t want the members to see him like this. He had also been drinking since the other members left. He was on his eighth bottle of soju and the lighter on his vanity was starting to look inviting.
He had never played with fire before. He wondered briefly why he hadn’t; the flame must cause great pain to a person’s skin. Without even thinking he took off his shirt; leaving him in only his boxers and a muscle shirt. He picked up the lighter and ignited the flame. It took him about two seconds to decide to heat the knife up and press it to his shoulder. The heat and blade felt like a new type of pain, and he loved It. The heat on his skin wasn’t like the heat from the shower; it was hotter, more pleasurable. He wanted more.
He heated up the blade three more times slitting each of his limbs with the hot knife; each time wanting more. The fifth time he put the blade in the flame he looked at himself in the mirror. Tears were flowing from his eyes and he didn’t care. He just wanted the pain. It made him feel good. No matter how many fans he had that screamed his name at performances, his true happiness came from self torture. He took the knife and slit his torso through his shirt. It felt amazing.
He then lit a candle and watched it burn. While watching the candle burn, he made more cuts on his arms and legs. They were smaller but deeper than he had ever cut himself before. The blood ran out of his body and he laughed. He loved the pain. He didn’t care anymore about anything but pain.
He took the candle off the counter and stuck his fingers into the wax. It was hot, and inviting. He poured the wax onto his legs and hissed. The wax had slid over his legs and into the cuts. He looked into the mirror again and decided he wanted to die.
The curiosity was killing him. He wanted to know what it felt like to die; it was probably way more exhilarating than the simple cuts, dancing, starving, falling. He got up off of his bed and walked to the door. Blood continued to come out of his wounds and dripped onto the floor, but he didn’t care. He left a trail of blood all the way to the balcony. He had stepped out and was looking at the traffic below when he heard the door to the dorm open. For a second he wondered who it was, before looking back at the earth. He didn’t care. They could watch him fall; if they wanted to.
He heard someone gasp; they must have seen the blood. Then footsteps came closer to him and he turned around to see Zhou Mi staring at him. Zhou Mi looked shocked. He guessed one would be shocked if they found a band mate and friend standing on the balcony of the dorms covered in blood, burns and wax.
“Eunhyuk what are you doing?” He faintly heard Zhou Mi whisper.
“I’m feeling. I wonder what it’s like to die… I’m going to find out.” He said and began to lean back on the railing- smiling.
Zhou Mi’s eyes widened and he reached out to Eunhyuk grabbing his hand just as Eunhyuk fell back over the railing. This caused Eunhyuk to hit the railing and the wall hard; his smile faltered “Let me go.”
“No,” Zhou Mi said, “I won’t! We need you! We care for you, and the fans!”
Eunhyuk smiled a sad smile, “That doesn’t matter. I can’t feel it… I can feel this. Now let me go.”
“I won’t,” Zhou Mi stated calmly and looked right into Eunhyuk’s eyes, “We love you-I love you. Don’t do this please.”
Zhou Mi began to cry and Eunhyuk’s eyes widened. Did the taller man really love him? Did he really mean that much to him? Well obviously; he had a death grip on Eunhyuk’s arm. That must have meant something. He looked away from Zhou Mi, “I don’t deserve your love.” For the first time that day he felt his tears flow from his eyes, “I’m a monster-I’m sick.”
“We can help you!” Zhou Mi said pulling on Eunhyuk’s arm, “please,” he begged, “I love you.”
Eunhyuk choked, and pulled himself up. Zhou Mi helped him over the railing and they fell to the floor in a heap. Eunhyuk hugged the taller man and cried into his chest until the sky began to darken.
The other members found them when the evening became twilight. Zhou Mi was holding Eunhyuk like his life depended on it. They saw all the blood and called for an ambulance. The members huddled around them until the paramedics arrived. Zhou Mi wouldn’t let him go, so they let him ride with Eunhyuk to the hospital.
Zhou Mi never let go of Eunhyuk’s hand. When they helped Eunhyuk get better; he never left Eunhyuk alone.
He was in the hospital for a few days when they moved him to a, “hospital that can better take care of you and get you better again.” He knew that meant a crazy hospital. But he didn’t care because Zhou Mi stayed with him every second of the day. They weren’t allowed to be together at night but he didn’t care.
Some days he would scream and kick Zhou Mi. He would be in tears when the other arrived and he would go off. He would yell at the taller man blaming him for not being able to feel. The doctors and nurses tried to subdue him, but Zhou Mi wouldn’t allow it. He took the beatings.
Other days he would sit in his bed and stare out of the window and ignore Zhou Mi completely. Zhou Mi took this as a good sign because he would talk to Eunhyuk and the other would sometimes smile softly. However, he would never talk to Zhou Mi civilly.
One day, about six months after Eunhyuk was admitted into the hospital, Zhou Mi entered his room, smiling, and was about to tell him about the others, but Eunhyuk wasn’t there. He panicked. He walked quickly to one of the nurses and she told him Eunhyuk was outside.
Zhou Mi quickly ran outside to look for Eunhyuk. He found him sitting in a secluded area behind the hospital surrounded by flowers.
He sighed in relief. Eunhyuk heard him, “I’m sorry.” Eunhyuk whispered and began to cry.
Zhou Mi sat by him and hugged him murmuring words of comfort to the sorter man. Eunhyuk cried harder and hugged Zhou Mi. They sat there surrounded by flowers until the sun began to set.
They watched the sun fall behind the horizon and Eunhyuk suddenly spoke up, “I don’t want to stay here. I want to feel. I want to care. I want to love.”
“I know you can do it.” Zhou Mi said, “You can get better. Just try.”
“I am… but it hurts.” Eunhyuk said cuddling into Zhou Mi’s side.
“Didn’t wounding yourself hurt too?” Zhou Mi said holding him closer that what he thought possible.
“It’s a different pain. It hurts right here,” Eunhyuk said touching Zhou Mi’s chest.
Zhou Mi chuckled, “love tends to hurt.”
Eunhyuk looked at him incredulously, “then why would you want to feel that pain?”
“Why feel the pain of hurting yourself?” Zhou Mi said looking into Eunhyuk’s eyes.
“I-I don’t know.” Eunhyuk said tearing up. Zhou Mi held him closer. “I want to get better.” Zhou Mi smiled and they sat in a comfortable silence for a few more moments, “Zhou Mi?”
“Yes Eunhyuk?”
“Thank you for saving me.”
~~
A/N: Comments? Thoughts? Concerns? lol Tough love Is love! <3