lobotomy ; gawsten

i

welcome to the story that kept me going through finals. rachel and i legit brainstormed this every time i took a break from studying (our convos about it are almost 14 pages on word we have: a problem) and the thought of getting to write it once break started got me through.

it's dark. it's sad. but it's very new and i am very excited.

heavy trigger warnings for the first chapter, self-harm, mentions of suicide, and panic attacks

merry christmas (or happy holidays if you don't celebrate christmas), y'all.

He doesn't feel anything.

And he didn't expect to, honestly. He thought this would end fast. Hurt a lot for a fraction of a second and then be over, the pain gone as quick as it came. He thought it'd be nothing; he wouldn't be able to pinpoint the exact moment after, he wouldn't remember when his body settled and limbs relaxed and he could open his eyes and feel everything.

He can feel everything.

And it's all slamming into him at once, bugs pressing their stingers into his body and morphing into hornets that drill further beneath bone and tunnel in there, waiting. They press themselves into every nook and cranny and stay, shift around and seat themselves amongst filaments and fester until all he can feel is pain. It hurts. It all hurts.

Everything hurts.

It's a pain he's never felt before, different than drawing with reds and painting with pink, a different kind of hurt that nestles into his body, trying to make itself comfortable while stinging from all sides. He got used to the red after a while. He anticipated the pink, drew in shapes and various lengths that lined his arms and crisscrossed up and down the pale milky white. And after the first few times, he learned to anticipate it, how his vision would go bright when he went the deepest and the black spots would infuse themselves in like inkblots and contaminate the entire picture.

This is different.

This is everywhere.

There's not a part of his body that doesn't hurt. It's a new kind of hurt, that cuts deep and runs all the way inside, swells up but never dies back down, hits its peak and stays there, festering, until all he can do is scream.

There are muffled sounds he can't quite make out. His vision is blurry. The inkblots are back again, black spots that travel across his eyes and settle in, multiply fast until the entire field is dark. It's dark and everything hurts and he doesn't know what's happening there's noises sounds people are talking something is happening it won't stop he doesn't know what's going on it won't stop why won't it stop why didn't it all just stop it was supposed to stop it was supposed to-

He can't breathe. It's all moving and everything is happening all at once and he's cold and it hurts he doesn't know what's going on people keep talking but he can't hear them he doesn't know what they're saying why won't this stop why is he here why is this still happening this wasn't supposed to happen it wasn't supposed to it wasn't-

He's dizzy. But his side is pressed against something hard. It aches. But he's lying down he isn't going to fall why does it still feel like he's falling why isn't this going away none of it is going away and it hurts too much please why is this happening to me it hurts so bad it won't stop I want it to stop please-

Something touches him and he screams. He didn't know he had a voice until then, and it still doesn't come when he tries to continue speaking. His throat is raw. Everything feels that way, like someone ripped his skin off and every single nerve is exposed. Every touch hurts. Moving the tiniest fraction of an inch feels like he just set his body on fire and he doesn't know how to put it out. There's more gasoline and more flames and everything burns just the littlest bit more but there's no way to extinguish any of it.

He didn't want this. He isn't supposed to be there. This isn't how it was supposed to happen this isn't what he wanted this isn't right this hurts too much this hurts even more than that did why is he still here why is this still happening he can't no fuck please I can't do this anymore please just let it happen like it was supposed to please it hurts pleasepleaseplease-

He forces himself to inhale but that hurts too. There's pressure and someone is touching him and pressing into his body and he doesn't want to be here anymore why won't he just fucking pass out already he can feel everything he can remember everything he doesn't want to why is this happening to him he doesn't want it he doesn't-

Stupid stupid stupid how could you possibly screw this up you had one fucking job one thing to do and it would've all been over it was supposed to be over and you couldn't even fucking make that happen you couldn't even do that right-

"Mmm...guh..." The words form but don't fall from the tip of his tongue. Everything is getting fuzzier. He doesn't know what's happening. It's all moving. People are touching him. Every part of him hurts.

He doesn't know the next. He tries to turn his head but he can't move it. He gags and chokes and then it comes surging up his throat. It's sticky and thick and feels too hot coming out of his mouth. It's slimy on his face and cool as it starts to dry.

He wants to scream but he doesn't have the air left. He can barely breathe anymore. His vision is fuzzy shapes as he drifts in and out, as the binding of consciousness starts to loosen.

This wasn't the plan. This wasn't supposed to happen. It wasn't meant to be like this. It wasn't mean to be any of this. This is a nightmare that's infused into a hell he needs to wake up from. He needs to get out of here. He needs this not to be the reality he wakes up to. It wasn't supposed to be like this. It wasn't supposed to be like this. It wasn't supposed to be-

It was just supposed to be over it wasn't supposed to be this-

It was just supposed to be over it wasn't supposed to be like this-

It was just supposed to be over.

It wasn't supposed to be like this.