Title: The Forsworn ~ Rejected
Author: Sita Seraph
Genre: Angst
Pairing: Unknown
Rated: R
Warning: Suicide, death, angst, depression
Summary: None yet.

Archive: Go right ahead. Please e-mail me so I know where you are going to throw it, okay?


Blank. That's all I could feel at the moment. Emptiness, that swallowed me up. Right now, it was eating away my gut; the burning hole that felt like it went right through me. Like a bullet, it had gone right through my stomach and left an empty space where it went through. Sorry, man, you were just in my way. Ah, no problem. I really didn't need that part of my body anyway.

Hey, at least I got my sarcasm still, right? That's a good sign. Even though I feel like dying at the moment, I can still laugh at the face of death, eh? He is just waiting for me to close my eyes and give up the fight, to just die slowly in this white tub I had thrown myself into. Yeah, sitting right on the edge, watching me and running his cold, lifeless fingers down my leg.

Oh, wait. That was my blood.

Hazily, I opened my swollen eyes. They hurt so much, I couldn't stand to keep them open for very long. It was like getting punched in the eye, but worse. My very lids felt like they had been cut open and my blood coursed over my eyes. But I knew better. That wasn't blood, nor were they cut.

They were my tears.

Lets face it, I've been sobbing all night. You'd think that being a man, I would be able to stop in a short hour. But oddly enough, salty water kept pouring forth, like a wound that refused to stop bleeding. That had to be it. My eyes were wounded. Or maybe my brain. I think the switch in my mind short-circuited so my tears didn't know when to stop themselves. Yeah, that's why my eyes hurt so badly. Stupid tears.

But then again, my whole body ached. Raising gentle fingers to my face, I winced as they touched my cheek. My tears seemed to have acid in them, for they left them red and swollen, like the rims of my eyes. Maybe they were the tears that I had held back for so long. Too long. They had raged against me, trying to get free from my broken gaze. But I wouldn't let them. I wouldn't let anyone see me cry, not ever. I had to swallow them all up and there they stayed, in the bottom of my throat, awaiting their chance to rise again with their picks and thorns to stick in my eye and break the shield that I held them at bay with.

My shield must have broken tonight. And out they tumbled, a river of them from my violet pupils. With joyous cries they flew out, driving their thorns into my cheeks in vengeance for keeping them away, for keeping them inside. Take this, they cried and stabbed at my cheeks. Oh, God, they hurt so much. Not a thousand blows could compare to the acid stained on my face. Water did nothing to help, for as soon as the cold stream hit my face, my tears would break again and out they tumbled and into the sink. Damnit, you are such a child, I screamed inwardly. But my tears would not stop, no matter how much I beckoned them to leave me be. I've been tortured enough; now leave me alone to die.

Drawing my quivering digits away from my swollen face, I stared with a blurred vision at my bare feet. It was amazing that I had gotten this far in my life without stumbling or falling. I didn't need anyone's help to get me here and I was proud of that. But my whole life, it seemed to me that I had been walking on glass. As I took another heavy step from the shattered shards, behind me trailed my red blood, staining the clean ground that had been once set before me. My next step, I must have taken a large piece with me for it left me wounded for life. My walk continued onwards, my steps getting heavier every time I touched the ground. More blood trailed behind me, spreading out and indicating the blood bath of innocent soldiers I had murdered on the way. My blood was burning me now, making my knees feel like jelly and my mind lightheaded. I had lost so much; why hadn't I fallen yet? But, no, I continued onwards, taking a few slower, hesitant steps. The blood began to clear, leaving smaller amounts after the slow progress I was making. Yes, I was going to make it. The glass was going to clear soon and then my blood and all the pain would soon stop. My feet would heal and then I would be able to run and prance forward, sing and laugh, whenever I wanted. I would make my future a bright and clean one, full of passion, love, and peace. I couldn't wait. So I made that one, large leap, where I was sure the glass had stopped and the sharp edges would never hurt my tender feet again.

But you weren't there. My future, you, weren't there. I landed hard on painful, cutting shards and I cried out in agony, pain, and betrayal. Finally, I had fallen onto my knees, then my hands. I collapsed; I was too weakened by the pain in my heart to pull myself up again. There you were, all you had to do was hold out your arms, and I would have done anything for you. Anything at all, even cross that blood terrain again. But you had turned away and I had fallen. I can't pull myself up, I just can't. Everything hurts so much. My life was Hell. I had walked so far, expecting you at the end of my trail and yet you had denied my love and shoved it right back in my face. How can anybody rise after that? How can anybody be whole and not cry for weeks with such ruthless denial? And so, there I lay, surrounded by my own red fluid. Choking on it. Coughing in it. Dying in it.

My hand had, unconsciously, tightened on the blade. I unhooked my white fingers and switched the sharp shaving knife to my other hand. I unraveled my aching fingers up and down, waiting for the blood flow to go to my plaster white fingers. And watching them, with a hazy vision, I remembered when I had my first chance to touch your face.

I remember the confusion in your mute stare and I remember smiling and driving these same digits into your brown locks. So soft and smooth, unlike my dull and ratty hair, like I had always imagined it. I remember the slow realization kicking in and your eyes begin to widen. But I couldn't stop now; I had to show you my feelings. And though my practiced speech was caught up in my throat, I allowed myself to do the only thing that would come to my overwhelmed, block-headed mind.

I kissed you. Lowering my lips, I kissed you. Soft but firm, I wanted to show you so much. I wanted you to feel the same way. I thought you did, honestly, I did. But my delusional mind must have made the whole thing up, for I never expected such a rough answer as I plopped my heart down at your feet.

I remember your cold hands and the way you shoved me away. Hard and violent. My mind couldn't register anything with such quick movement, but it was too late anyway. I felt the blow. I felt that rock hard fist slam into my lower jaw. I must have sky rocketed, for I felt my feet leave the ground and I collapsed hard on my back. The wind from my lungs escaped my lips with a startled glee and I thought I heard a crack in my jaw. I looked up with confused eyes and you towered over me, fury burning in those beautiful pools of blue. You hated me. Loathed me. That friendship we had…It was nothing, wasn't it? I had ruined it, hadn't I?

My answer came with a sharp blow to my gut and again, my oxygen left my burning lungs. Pain lanced through my body and for a second, I thought I had blacked-out. I knew then that I would never piss you off again for the sake of my life.

I'm so sorry, koi…I didn't mean to make you angry with me…

I had deserved it anyway. I should have spoken, not acted. But when my mouth was actually useful for once, I could find nothing to say and my mind went blank. I just wanted to kiss you so badly. I really thought…I really thought you liked me too. And that the glass would stop and I'd fall into your awaiting arms. And we would walk together into our bright new future, leaving the blood and ammo behind.

I was really wrong, wasn't I?

"Oh, God," I sobbed and I felt the tears swell up again. I knew I couldn't stop them and my lungs burned even as I tried to control them. But it was useless; they escaped and sent their acid trail down my cheeks. Oh, it hurt so much. So much! I had to end the pain now; I couldn't take it anymore. The glass had reappeared and it was scratching at my body, clawing at me with its sharp edges.

Blood; blood everywhere. I just wanted to shut my eyes and make it all go away. I didn't want to see the red anymore. I didn't want to wake up every morning and wish I could scream in anguish. Just scream, scream, scream, scream, and scream! Until my voice gave out and I could no longer mutter a single word. I wanted to tear out my hair and throw the ugly brown locks away and feel my naked skull. I wanted to take this blade in my hand and drive it everywhere in my body.



I know that. But that's what love does to you. I wanted to be with you. I wanted to be with you so bad that it hurt. But now I know I can never have you. You don't want me, not like I want you. You would never want to scream bloody murder. You would never want to tear your hair out. You would never want to kill yourself.

Not for me.

Not for anyone.

You had a life. You had a purpose. My purpose was you. You were all I ever wanted in my goddamn, stupid life. You let me fall, though. And I can't get back up. I can't stand back up. I've fallen for good, this time. I'll ignore your stupid hands and your probing for me to stand. Not this time. Not ever.

I'm gone. I've had enough. I can't take this life anymore. You were my last hope. You shattered it like any other person with a single bullet. I can't take it anymore. I can't! Damn you all to Hell!

Without a second thought, I raised the blade to my open wrist. This was going to be the last person whose blood I was going to shed.

Yes, killing myself was the most appropriate thing I had ever done in my life. I've shed so many other people's blood – why not shed mine? The blade dug in and I sliced upwards. A second passed. And then my crimson flow emerged from my pale flesh and I gave a sigh of relief. Yes, I was very ready to die. I watched the red river drip quickly to the white surface of the tub and I felt no pain. No, how could I feel any more pain? This wound was nothing against the shattered pieces that once made my heart. Enough was enough. My vision blurred. I was going to die. I was never afraid of death. Not now, not later. I was going to die.

Suddenly, every thing was dark.