Who Will Fix Me Now? » fransykes

The Irony Of Choking On A Lifesaver

My feet rushed me along the deserted, warm hall and up the oak stairs. I closed my door behind me, with a sigh of relief, I could now let the tears run freely. I banged my head against the door a few times in frustration. Why was I letting this get to me? I mean I had been called far worse than faggot or queer. But it was Josh who said it.

The boy with the thick southern accent, the boy with the perfectly white teeth, the boy with the sexy stubble and the thick brown hair, the boy with the deep blue eyes, the boy who wore nothing but checkered shirts and jeans that show everything off, the boy with the plump lips I so longingly craved for, the boy that was perfect for me, the boy who I was nothing to.

I curled myself up into a ball in the corner of the room, rocking back and forth, just like I had in the cell, just before...Josh. I groaned, just his name sends me into over-drive.

When my sobs had finally quietened down, I roughly rubbed my eyes with the sleeves of my crew-neck that was still wrapped around my waist. It stunk, of dampness, and rotting flesh, not the nicest of combinations either. I hadn't had a shower.

As I was about to get up, I heard a quiet mumble from diagonally across the room. I couldn't see what it was, for my bed was standing in front. I got up on shaky legs and tip-toed around the bed.

Sat up-right against the wall, by one leg of the bed, was a teddy. It was familiar, missing an eye, stuffing pouring out, it was old-fashioned, and dirty. It was Poppy's.

I held it in my hands, feeling the rough material against my own skin. How the fuck did it get here?

The one remaining eye of the bear was relatively normal, but it still gave me the chills. It was quite large and completely black, you could see your reflection in the polished plastic. As I tried to put some of the stuffing that now lay on the floor back into the stuffed toy, I felt something cold, metal and oddly shaped. I pulled it out of the bear, to reveal a small, bronze key, It had a loop of string tied to it and a piece of old tattered brown paper, attached to that. It did once have writing on, but the ink was smudged and would have been too loopy to read anyway.

The room flashed with a bright light, lightening, it was then followed my the loud clap of thunder. It had grown horribly dark, the clouds were pitch black and looked solid. Another flash of lightening and clap of thunder soon came again.

I turned around, my room now quiet dark, the only source of light was coming from the LED lights that flickered around the room and the crack of light under the door leading to the hall.

I looked at the clock 9:59 P.M

5...4...3...2..1..and as if on cue the loud school-like bell echoed through the halls. 10:00 P.M curfew. The usual hustle came from outside my door, everyone rushing to get to their rooms without being seen. What would Armstrong actually do to them anyway? It seems his biggest threat is to put them in unit 66.6, but that's highly unlikely if they're caught outside their room a second after curfew.

I forced myself to stand up off the bed, I placed the bear and key on the bedside table and turned on the lamp.

I walked to my bathroom in a zombie-like fashion. I ran the hot tap and put the plug in the bath, the water filling the tub. I stripped down of all my clothes and dumped them in the wash basket outside the door. Just as I was about to climb into the steaming bath, I caught a glimpse of myself in the polished mirror.

My whole body froze as I stared at my reflection. My hair was sticking up at odd ends and looked like it was dripping with grease, my eyes had dark bags underneath, my tattoos once rich and lively in colour were faded and dull, they're were obvious white scratch marks up and down my arms. Who was this person, staring back at me?

I stepped into the bath wincing at the heat. The water was boiling against my skin and it felt ten times worse, since I felt ice cold, inside and out. I lay down as the water gave me painful pins and needles, my skin turned a dark red. At least I was feeling something, something physical.

Sinking further into the water, I held my breath and went under. My body relaxed and got use to the heat.

My eyes were forced open in shock as I felt my lungs beg for air, but something was stopping me, something was pushing me down, drowning me. My hands gripped the sides of the bath as I tried to pull myself up, no such luck. My lungs were forcing me to breath, but with no air they only brought in water. My throat was closing up, my legs were kicking and the water was surely splashing around the room. I brought my hands to my neck, for some reason, this was an automatic response. If I wasn't surrounded by water, I'd more than likely be crying now, because I'm weak, fucking weak. My hair danced smoothly in front of my face as the water pushed it around. My eyelids were heavy, was it time, my time to die? I wonder how everyone would feel? Would they be happy about the last words that they said to me? Faggot!

My eyes fully closed, my heart sounding louder, slower and deeper in my new watery grave.

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Title: The Irony Of Choking On A Lifesaver by All Time Low

Oliver can't die! Can he? Maybe I aimed to kill him off! *evil laugh* I'm sorry guys I'll leave you all to cry.

Hope you like it again all I ask his a little help vote/comment/add/share/read blah blah blah

Song on the side....obviously everyone's heard of ATL so no explanation needed here....going to see them in February with You Me At Six AGHHHHHH

Shit I just realized that I said both Oli and Josh were 16 and you can't get tattoos at 16...shit shit shit...erm he did it illegally k!

So it's the 1st September today, so that means I go back to school in three days, CRY FOR ME! I'm going into year 10 in case you're wondering I don't know what that is in America, I've always wondered so if you're American, I'm turning 15 next month what grade will that mean I'm in?