The Degradation (translation)

Chapter 9

Dear diary,

He forgot. He promised, and forgot. It wasn't difficult. One email – one cut. One day – one cut. It's simple. He ruined everything. One email – one cut. I... how? How... What should I do?.. 91. I needed 100. Not 91. I need to do this, I need to do this. He doesn't understand. I count 91 cuts over and over again. I needed 100. One email – one cut. He had no right to forget. What should I do now? I can't help but do it. I need it. Help me. I can't leave it like this. 9 days, 9 days left. I do not have a total of 9 cuts, but he forgot. I can't. I hate him. He had no right to do that. I have to do this... But I can't do it without his email. I need it. Why did he do that? I left room for nine more cuts. He ruined everything. Now, I can't do this anymore. One email, one day, one cut. Do you understand? Without his email, there is no day, and without a day, there is no cut. I need to calm down. I'm breathing. I have to do it anyway. Only in a different place.

[...]

I would do anything to erase them. I don't want any more. There were only 91 of them, and there should have been 100. But I couldn't just leave them. Now I only have to do 8. On the hip. I did a ninth on my hip. Only on the front, not on the back. I couldn't make it in the same place. He ruined everything. Hate. He promised to be with me until the end. He promised me. I hate him.

  ***

Louis' pov

D-8 Hope.

It can't disappear forever. It's impossible. He needs these emails too much. He's just angry, but he'll be back. He has to come back because he can't just leave. Okay, we missed one day, just one email. We can overcome this. I'll apologize, and he'll forgive me. He's hurt, but he can't give up. He needs it, just like I do. He'll be back. It needs to come back.

D-7 Waiting.

Two days. For two days, I sit in my room, looking at the computer screen. I don't want to see anyone. I texted Liam and told him I was sick. I think I'm really sick. My stomach hurts all the time. He's more angry than I thought.

Damn, don't do anything stupid... Come back. We missed three days, three emails, but he can still come back. He needs time. Time to stop being mad at me. We just don't have time. Only 7 days left. Fuck, Anonymous, come back. Please.

D-6 Shortage.

Three days. Three days since he went missing. I refuse to admit that he won't come back. I miss him. I know that for 94 days I very often did not receive any news from him. Didn't get any response because he didn't want to talk. But this time it's different, because now it's gone. Before, even if he didn't answer, he was here. His profile was here. I knew he'd been sitting at his monitor for at least a few seconds, thinking about me. Every day, to read my messages, he had to go to my page and see my picture. And to send him these messages, I had to go to his page and see a black square. It was the thread that bound us together. Even if he didn't talk to me, I knew he was thinking about me every day. But now that he's gone, does he think about me? On those days when he was shutting himself in, I could just go to his profile to calm down. Even if it was completely empty, I needed to read his nickname to feel better. Six big black letters. ANONYMOUS. Six letters that reminded me he was real. I've never told anyone about him, not even Liam. He was my personal secret. And when he ignored me for days at a time, his nickname, his page, reminded me that he actually existed. That any student at the University could see it. And now that he's gone. Three days is not much, but if you live 94 days with the habit of sending a countdown every day and knowing that it will definitely be read, then when it all disappears, you don't know what to do. That's how it is now. Without Anonymous, without sending emails, I don't know what to do. That damn phrase keeps running through my head."We only start to appreciate when we lose." This shitty stereotype hits the nail on the head. I miss him. I really miss him. And even if I refuse to admit it, deep down, I've known for quite some time that I've lost him. It hurts the most.