It has been a long day and I feel exhausted. I change and jump into my bed. I drift away after not more than a minute.
I'm in my own time. My father is standing in front of me, and I see another version of myself arguing with him. I can't hear it but I remember damn well what I said. The bubble of silence pops and I hear myself yelling: "I hate you, I don't care what you do and I wouldn't be bothered if you just killed yourself. You're a heartless beast." My eyes fill with water as I see myself running away.
I wake up, everything is shaking. I feel weak, it's one in the morning I try not to think about what happened next but my head doesn't care and I see the picture of my dead father hanging from my favourite tree. I couldn't believe it, it was my fault. I dig my nails into my hands and stand up. I open a drawer, there are some knives and revolvers from different decades. I pick up one. The barrel feels cold and assuring against my head. There's a certain steadiness in the revolver. I know there are still bullets in it. I pull the trigger. I feel a bullet digging through my head.
I stand up and clean up the mess I made. I knew I wasn't going to die. I hate it. There's a certain certaincy in knowing you will die someday. I don't have that even if I would like to die I simply can't.
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Fanfictionwhat if Dorian gray stayed pure and innocent by heart. What if it was a gift not a curse what if it was from god I get up another, another chance. I try to smile but my face doesn't want to. I splash water in my face. I look at myself. Didn't age a...
