Tomorrow - Dylmas Fanfiction

Pain

Warning: Self-Harm

Extract from Thomas Sangster's journal ~ 'I hate the choices I made that day. They don't reflect how I really am and I can never put them right. Or maybe they do reflect how I really am and I'm a sick human being. Either way, what's happened has happened and the choices I made have been made. I don't want to be the person that chose himself over the person closest to his heart. But I am that person. I don't want to be that person. I can't get away from myself which means I can't get away from the guilt or the pain or the regret. I can't keep living with those feelings burning into my soul, my breaths fuelling the fire.'

I had no idea where I was walking or what I was going to do. I didn't care. I pulled my phone out of my pocket to call a taxi and then it came to me. There was no way I could go back but I could get Dylan help. I opened my contacts and rang Tyler. He could get Dylan to hospital and then at least I'd tried. That word again! I didn't come into this. Who did I think I was? This was about the fact that Dylan needed help and it was my duty to get it to him, regardless of the personal risk. "Hello?"

"Hi Tyler," I spoke quietly, tears choking me all of a sudden, "It's Thomas. Dylan needs help and I can't do it.." the words drained away, leaving my mouth dry and silent tears sliding down my cheeks.

"What the hell is going on?"

"Patrick, he, he attacked Dylan."

The line went silent. "What?" Tyler replied, the disbelief thick in his voice.

"Please just go and help him, he's in the basement," I couldn't stand it. Every second that passed was emotional and physical agony for Dylan. I crumpled down onto the grass verge I was walking along, "I'm sorry! Just go! I'm a useless, selfish coward that can't even protect his own boyfriend.."

"What did you just say?"

I had completely forgotten that Tyler probably had no idea that Dylan and I were a couple. Were being the key word. It felt like a punch in the stomach that we were no longer. "Yes but that's not important right now!" I shouted down the line, suddenly annoyed at Tyler for no valid reason, "Just go!"

"Okay, okay goodbye Thomas."

I didn't get up from the dewy grass after the phone cut off. Instead I sat there and cried my eyes out until my throat was sore and my eyes were bloodshot. I felt like my world had ended and the disgust I felt for myself made me question if I'd ever be able to look in a mirror again. I picked up my phone and rang for a taxi. If Tyler was going to come, I did not want to see him - I only had to imagine the look of disgust he would give me to know that. The taxi pulled up by the verge and I heaved myself up, wiping the tears from my cheeks as I sat down. "Can I go to the nearest hotel please?"

***

I sat on the end of the hotel bed. Guilt wrapped around me and wouldn't leave. It felt as if the guilt would never leave. It weighted me down and trapped me when all I wanted to do was escape. My eyes wandered around the room. They focussed onto a kitchen knife that'd been placed on the dresser with the burger I'd ordered and left completely untouched. The temptation was too much. A chance for me to forget the guilt and pain and regret even for a moment was irresistible. I stood up and reached for the knife, clutching it in my right hand and rolling up my left sleeve. I rested it on my wrist and pressed down, my hands shaking. The knife was blunt and the pain caused by dragging it across my flesh should have been excruciating, but I didn't feel the pain. I didn't reach blood the first time. Pressing harder, I cut again. A trickle of fresh blood ran down my wrist. Again. More blood. I fell down onto the carpet and dragged the knife across again. I wanted to do it again and again. The knife was the only thing I could think of. Nothing existed other than me and a knife when it sliced my skin. I didn't stop, the blood gushing out of my arm until a vibration in my pocket brought me back to my senses. I dropped the knife and pulled out my phone, leaving my left wrist to bleed. It was Tyler.