FicWad

Sorry for the lack of updates and responses. Blame Comcast. They fucked up my internet and refused to fix it. Those fucking dumdum butts. Thats why I was rooting my mom on when she spent an hour each day for 5 days cursing them out. Lol. Thats what they get! I have been checking my reviews from the internet on my phone but theres only so far Metro-Piece-of-Shit can take you. I know. Excuses, excuses, excuses. But if it helps I almost snapped my neck from lack of the world wide web. Alritey. Im done ranting, go read!

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Tomorrow.
Tomorrow's the day.
The day I circled on my calendar two weeks ago.
June 5.
Why this day?
This day is very important to this twisted plot.
Should I tell you or should I save it?

I'll save it.
Besides. Don't you already know?
You should.

Tomorrow.
To think, it was so soon.
It felt a little like yesterday though.

Yesterday.
Sleep?
What is that word of which you speak of?
Does it derive from Latin?

Waking up in the morning results in agony.
Results in pain.
Why?
"Why did I awake?"
"Why didn't I just go in the night?"
"Who would miss me?"
Do you ever ask those questions?
Who would miss me.
Who would miss me?
If I had someone who cared I wouldn't ask.
If you had someone who cared you wouldn't ask either.

"I love you."
"I love you too."
Words effortlessly exchanged by people.
They don't actually mean it.
They never do.
Nobody cares.
Nobody cares how you slept.
How you are.
How youre feeling.
They may ask but deep down inside your answer bores the shit out of them.
If they did care though, they'd know your other face.
They'd pull you from the ledge.
They'd glue your feet in place.
They'd never let you soar.
Oops.

Do you?
Do you know what it's like to see something you want, something you aim for dangling in front of your face?
To be the donkey in a flock of swans?
To have the carrot hanging pure millimeters from your face, but you blink and your carrot's in the mouth of another ass?
To want to burst into tears?
To hold back said tears because you're the "cool and collected one"?
You want to scream.
You want to cry.
You can't.
Sure you did it before, but when you did it, did it clear everything?
I mean everything?
Why?
You're too shy.
Even when you're alone?
Where there's no one to hear you?
Even in the night into your pillow?
Even then too.

To see things in your mind that you wouldn't dare think of 50 feet near a church?
To hold your tongue and fake a smile?
Fake it every fucking day.
Every fucking day.
Every fucking day.
To want to scream?
To want to cry?
To want to tell someone,
Anyone, how you feel?
But you're not that kind of person remember.

You want to find something to dull the pain?
Pills, booze, razors, take them all.
You want to do it now?
You can't do it now you dumb goose.
They'd stop you.
You don't want to be stopped.

But think.
If you do it...
Would you handle the pain?
Don't bitch and moan about it.
You wanted it.
Have your cake and eat it.
Don't choke it back up.
That's not proper etiquette.
But think.
If you don't...
Slowly you'd fall.
Oh, the things they'd say!

"They're fucking nuts."
"They've lost it."
"It's because of their parents."
"I knew it was coming. I saw the things they listened to."
"They're on drugs, bet you didn't know."
"They can't be serious. Can they?"
"They need psychiatric help."
"Bad."

You run.
You can't handle the venom.
But you thank them anyway.

Now my previous question.
Do you?
Of course you do.

You live it.
Maybe every day.
Maybe on and off.
Either way, you can't end it.
You can't even slow it down.
It won't wait.
Can't it see the colors?

4:09.
That's what you say.
I don't believe you.
Then again I don't believe anyone.
Except my friend.

Now you've walked through fire.
Your skin's burned and peeled off years ago.
Nonetheless, it still burns.
Might as well be fresh.
Life ain't that fucked up though.
It will grant you ice.

This is my ice.

Tomorrow.
It reminds me distinctly of the movie Annie.
Didn't it remind you too?
I picture the little girl.
Singing happily.
Yet, sadly.
Hopefully.

She sees hope.
I see hope.
Do you see the connection?

All my troubles will be gone.
Can you taste it?

Gaze with me darling.

I want you to think of all the things, all the people who bother you. Not little middle school bullies. Not your little parents who you claim "have it in for you" just because they won't let you go to that concert.
You know who I'm talking about.
You're not stupid.
The thing that forces you to harm yourself and/or others just to cover up the effect it has on you.
Never harmed anyone?
Yourself?
Don't believe you either.
But just for your sake, I'll agree with you.
Okay.
But you definitely thought about it.
Don't even try denying it.

The one's who when they step into your mind, everything sinks.
Yes, babe.
Just like the Titanic.
Goodbye, Jack.
Carry on, Rose.

It won't be fixed.
Where's the tape?
Please!
I need tape!
Please!
Show mercy!
Tape!
Oh God!

Now I hand you tape.

You already know where every piece goes.
How every piece fits.
How much tape should be applied.
Here's your chance.
Jump.
It's not like anyone's gonna push you.

Tomorrow I jump.
Tomorrow I tape.
Tomorrow I taste.
Tomorrow I feel the ice.

I'm gonna fix it all.
All my burdens.
All my troubles.
All my misfortune.
All my suffering.

I'll be happy.
Get it?
I'll be fucking happy!
Get it?!

Blink.

4:10.

Don't tell me what happens when my ice melts.
Just don't.
Don't bother.
You can't wreck it.
It's impossible.
It's too close.
It's resting on my lips.


Tomorrow.


June 5.


I'm free.


4:11.