Razor blade slid down from my elbow. The cut was probably 6 centimeters long. And it was really deep. Okay, only four more to go. I put my razor on the left side of my wrist and pulled it to the other. It burnt as hell. I wanted to stop, but the voice in my head kept telling me: ‘keep doing it. Let him know what does he make you feel like. C’mon, you know you want it. Just three left to go.’. Another one. Blood was all over the sink. The 4th one. My arm was red of blood. And finally the last one. I slid my razor from my elbow to the wrist. And again. Fuck, it hurt as hell. I put razor blade in the trash and washed my arm. I felt the cold. The last thing I remember was the ceiling.
I heard a loud noise, coming out of the bathroom. I ran upstairs and tried to open the door. It was locked. ‘gee, open, it’s me, Mikey!’. Nothing, just silence. ‘goddamn door, open the fuck up!’, still nothing. ‘GERARD, OPEN THE DAMN DOOR RIGHT FUCKING NOW!’. Silence. ‘he fainted’, I thought. Suddenly, I felt the panic. What if he won’t survive? I’ll beat this fucking dick tomorrow. Frank. His name was running trough my mind. He deserved death. I ran downstairs and took a knife. It tried to cut the door apart. It worked. I stepped in the bathroom and saw Gerard, lieing on the floor in his own blood. No, god, just not him. He didn’t deserve it. I quickly called the ambulance and after a few minutes, we were in the hospital. The doctor came down the corridor, walking against me. ‘Err, Mr. Way?’. ‘Yes, that’s me.’. ‘Yout brother is in serious condition. You can go home now, but if he makes it trough, he’s going to be in comma for another 5 days.’.’Uh. okay. Goodbye.’. I walked away. Comma? Serious condition? What am I going to tell my mom?