sad why dont we one shots

im sorry

He blinked at the light blue ceiling to clear his vision again. His shady blue eyes that their shine was concealed by blurring tears moved and his blank stare faced the only friend he had on the dusty white wooden table. A grey notebook with yellow pages that most of it were already filled with the black ink that was from the only pen that wasnt broken yet. He rose up from the messy bed which the sheets werent washed for as long as he could remember and were filled with the stains of coffee and food mixed with the holes from the burns of sigarrets he would usually light up when he was drowning in emotions and they would fall from his loose fingers when he was too deep in his head. He forced his unwilling body to move and dragged himself towards the kichen for a cup of coffee in order to decrease the ache in his heavy head not knowing that the pain was that deep that even coffee wasn't helping anyone. As he turned on the the dirty stove his nose crinkled from the smell of burned oil that hadnt been cleared after every cooking. He filled the small pot that its blue color was hidden under the black of burns and placed it on the oven. He slowly walked towards the filled sink with a lot of unwashed dishes and grabbed his favorite coffee cup. A navy blue ceramic cup with his name written on it in a nice golden font and and a crack that was a gift from one of his friends...or better to say, ex-friends. Seeing the crack on the mug brought back the memory of the day he had lost control and threw it on the ground. Lucky for him the mug was strong or else it would turn to peaces. As the memory passed his eyes he shook his head to forget the crystal clear image of it infront of his eyes. He turned the cup upside down to empty it from the water inside and standed on his tip toe to open the light aqua cabinet to grab the coffee bag with his other hand. He placed the mug on the greasy counter filled with Breadcrumb and pieces of food and turned his back leaning on the edge of the counter. His fazed out stare was lost in the blue mixed with the shades of orange flames and his fingers slowly tabbed on the counter waiting for the water to boil. As a low whistle rose up from the pot his glimpse moved between the flames and pot and it took a second for him to realize what was happening due to the dizziness of his lost mind in thoughts. He grabbed the pot while turning off the stove with his other hand and poured the hot water in the mug. He wasnt paying attention much so the mug overflowed and the hot water streamed down on his grip over the mug. The grievous pain caused the hiss and the pot fell down from his other hand with a long ring on the ground. He squeezed his eyes shut while bitting his upper lip and ran towards the sink. The stream of cold water when the handle of faucet turned on cause a relaxation on his tensed body and his holded breathe released with a slow exhale. His eyes opened slowly while breathing out and faced his red hand. A sudden frown took shape on his face and his hand reached to turn off the handle. Maybe he deserved to feel the pain after all. He grabbed a used spoon from the sink and went toward the soaken counter again to make the coffee that his body was screaming for. The pain his head had gotten worse and the sharp ache in his hollow eyes was increasing each second. He filled the mug with 3 spoons of coffee and moved the spoon trying to stir up the coffee while moving slowly towards his room he turned his head up to face the old sign in his hand writing with a blue pen that was designed by colorful markers. Wlc to the room of Daniel James Seavey the corner of his month lifted up to form a weak smile as he pushed the door open and stepped in his messy room He sat on the wooden old chair besides his wooden matched color desk and placed the hot mug on the table beside the notebook. He rose up his knees to his stomach and leaned them at the edge of the desk while opening the notebook on his leg. Passing every page caused a shiver through his body by remembering every single one of them ond by one. If anyone would read his diary wouldnt believe that it belonged to one person due to the all the antithesis. The hand Writing. The way of talk. The vocab use and the manner had changed in all of them. So as he had so. One page he was screaming in pain and agony the other was wrinkled by the soaking in tears. Another he was happy and the most cheerful guy alive. One was filled with optimism and unreachable dreams and the other was solid with hate and flaming rages. Some were designed with multicolored pens and some were ripped out of notebook in a violent way. He remembered the days he had spent with his friends hanging out till late night or watched movies with them while talking about the movie the whole time. Or the sleep over nights when they used to listen to the music and the whole night would spend talking and laughing at their own jokes with a lot of snacks and drinks till they got drunk enough to do the most stupid things. He opened a new page to write down the past few days that he neglected to do because of all the emotions that he was overflowing with. He grabbed the pan and tried to write down but the ink didnt came out. He felt the rage flaming in his mind and as his eyebrows pulled together he closed his eyes with deep inhales and exhales to control his anger and took his wrist with his other hand to prevent it from throwing the pen with his shaking hand. As the tears filled his eyes and blood rushed in his burning cheek the anger expression turned to a anguish feature as he gritted his teeth to avoid the sob. He hated the way he was. He hated every single emotion that had taken control over him and ruined his life since the attacks began to. He opened his eyes shaking while the pen and tried to write down again.
Dear diary. I know i havent reported anything yet. Im sorry but i was to disturbed with the countless emotional attacks and breakdowns. Jack called last friday. I wanted to tell him how much ive missed him that he couldn't even imagine. But the only thing that came out from my mouth was a leave me alone shout and throwing the phone which caused a new crack on its already fucked up screen. Jonah texted me on my inactive facebook cause it was the only thing that i haven't blocked him in it yet and asked me to attend zachs birthday party cause i was important to him. I wanted to say what should i buy for him but i texted some horrible words and told him that i didnt even remembered zachs face. Which was a lie cause i adored and still do his rosy cheeks. Yesterday i was so energetic that i decided to dance at the 3 in the morning with loud rock music. My old neighbor knocked on my door and asked me to turn it off but i just slammed the door with a thats not my problem that youre dying shout in a anger tone. And dont forget to mention the guilty feeling after every situation above caused the endless tears and cuts. I dont know whats wrong with me.
He closed his eyes to let the tears fell from his black bags under his eyes on his pale feature caused by the lack of food and sleep. Remembering the cuts that he had developed as a habbit from the young age when ever he couldnt manage his anger issues. The times when his mother would scream behind the locked up door begging him to stop. He grabbed the mug and took a sip from the cold coffee. He moved his shaking hands beneath the desk and took out the half empty bottle of whiskey and filled the coffee mug with it.
Im tired but i guess thats not a new thing to you. Most of the days im complaining about weather im exhausted to death and cant move an inch from my bed or im that much full of energy that im high with out drug and that hype that i cant even sleep all night. But im emotionally tired. Im tired of losing control over stupid things . Im tired of screaming inside. Of crying for no reason. Of hurting myself thinking i deserved that. Of loud laughters that made everyone think i have lost my mind. Of dancing in the morning and crying at night. Or visa versa. Im tired of complaining about being alone and push away everyone that walks in my life with my unwanted anger and rage. Im tired of being worthless and useless. Of seeing everything from the outside feeling jealousy. Of consuming by the envy seeing my friends are having fun knowing i can join them but the anxiety prevents me by the fact that im going to ruin their gathering with my uncontrolable instability. Im tired to be so hype for opportunities but losing them at the last minutes by hiding myself. Im tired of planning so much but cancel it right before its time because i dont feel like i deserve it. Im tired of feeling alone in a crowded place. Im exhausted of mood swings. Of being super cheerful for a minute and for another suffocated by the sobs in my throat. I want to call all my friends and tell them how much i love them but i can't cause i know i will become a bad bitch again and hurt their feelings. I dont want to be alone but i guees im stuck here forever in my darkness and will walk forever between a line. But.. i dont want to
As the words been written in his almost not readable handwriting the sob in his throat came out and the tears filled his eyes once more. He felt the anger that was raising.
I dont want to be alone. Thats not my problem that they cant handle me. Then what the fuck is a friend for. Just to be with you in your happy days? Thats not a friend thats a fake one. A true friend would never leave his friend in fucked up situations.
As the tears fell down and mixed with a ink on the paper he stabbed the notebook with sharp tip of pen with a cry and pressed palm of his sweaty hands on his eyes.
"Oh god i cant please stop it"
He let out the worlds in a tone of begging in a cracked voice and hitted his forehead on the note book with a loud shout that caused the running down tears from his eyes that were showing their ocean blue under the shine of tears and mumbled while closing his eyes.
"Thats not their problem...that was all my fault. And its all because im such a weak person inable to control my own goddamn actions."
He opened his eyes as his stare fixed on the ground with his eyebrows raised and pulled up together.
"But what is a human if it wouldnt be able to control his own actions. Whats the purpose of my existence if i cant even decide for myself." He turned his face while grabbing the bottle and looked at its yellowish contant. He closed his moist achy eyes and drank it halfway down as the feeling of warmth mixed with the bitter taste passed his throat and rose up while taking the bottle with him towards the bathroom. He tried open the door but the handle slipped out of his loose grip. The second try with a frown ended up with success as he dragged his unsteady body towards the bathtub. The kneeled beside the tub and turned the cold water one while entering the tube with the black long sleeves t shirt and black jeans as the match to his mood. He leaned his hand on the endge of the tube while closing his eyes and waited for the cold water to take him in its cold embrace and finished the bottle. The next thing that was heard was the sound of the breaking of the empty glass on the ceramic white walls mixtured with the sound of the pouring water on the tub. Daniel rose his hand that was heavier due to soaked sleeve and grabbed a peace of the broken glass and took it in front of his eyes. He stared at the shining lucid glass while bringing it closer and closer to his throat and as the cold glass touched his bare skin he felt the a shiver passing his body. Hi closed his eyes shut while taking a deep breath and slitted his throat with a long red line as his eyes widened in the shock of pain and the warm blood streamed down on his shaking body. The glass fell from his hand on the tub as he exhaled his holded breath and the warmth of blood mixed with cold water covered him as the tears from pain joined the mixture. He moved his fingertip on the blood beneath the wide scar and writed on the white wall beside the tub.
Im sorr
His hand fell down before he could finish the sentence and as his eyes closed for the last time the sound of water filled his ears.