Categories > Celebrities > Panic! At The Disco
Waiting For My Heart To Beat.
13 reviewsHe wanted to be like the rest of them. He wanted to feel that high, the one that would take away this feeling of utter uselessness.
5Ambiance
Loathing.
Spencer’s narrowed eyes trailed down his body, to the extra skin that lay over his stomach. Something dark and horribly twisted entered his mind. This wasn’t how he was supposed to look. He was supposed to be attractive; he was supposed to be handsome. He was supposed to be the guy that everyone looked at, that everyone envied and wanted to be with.
He wasn’t supposed to be ugly.
Hatred.
His fingers pinched.
He needed to get rid of it.
His nails scratched.
He wanted to be like the rest of them. He wanted to feel that high, the one that would take away this feeling of utter uselessness. Of disgust.
He watched as ribbons of silky berry tinted blood dripped down his skin, ran through his fingers and under his nails. His nerves screamed in pain laced pleasure, and he sucked in a hard breath. His body was shaking.
Release.
He revelled in this. This adrenalin that flowed through his veins, the way his eyelids fluttered and his mind felt so deliciously high. The way his breathing picked up and his heart started pumping. This...this amazing rush.
It just-it made him feel so alive.
Repulsive.
Everything ended once the blood stopped flowing.
His mind returned to that vile low, the one that made him turn even further into himself. His eyes once again swam over his destructed body, littered with imperfections.
Scars.
Scrapes.
Cuts.
Gashes.
Bruises.
They all made him recoil. Why wasn’t he beautiful? Where were the results his other self had so promised him? He had promised himself that this was the answer, this was what he was supposed to do in order to make himself human! So why was he still so damn HIDEOUS!
Frustrated tears welled up in his eyes, and he angrily wiped them away with his stained fingers.
A rage filled scream erupted from his throat, but quickly died into a choked out cry, until he was on his knees on the ground, face in his hands. He swallowed. His body trembled.
There had to be a solution.
His eyes were wide. He watched the floor, his irises darting around frantically. What had he done wrong? Had it not been enough? He blinked.
Was he supposed to do more?
His wide eyes snapped to his left.
Relief filled him.
There it was! That was his answer! Its shiny surface entranced him. He couldn’t look away. His hands trembled in anticipation. This was it! This would be his ultimate release, his ultimate happiness. He was going to be beautiful!
He picked it up. It sat heavily in his palm.
He brought it upwards, and pointed it towards his temple.
He smiled.
He pulled the trigger.
Spencer’s narrowed eyes trailed down his body, to the extra skin that lay over his stomach. Something dark and horribly twisted entered his mind. This wasn’t how he was supposed to look. He was supposed to be attractive; he was supposed to be handsome. He was supposed to be the guy that everyone looked at, that everyone envied and wanted to be with.
He wasn’t supposed to be ugly.
Hatred.
His fingers pinched.
He needed to get rid of it.
His nails scratched.
He wanted to be like the rest of them. He wanted to feel that high, the one that would take away this feeling of utter uselessness. Of disgust.
He watched as ribbons of silky berry tinted blood dripped down his skin, ran through his fingers and under his nails. His nerves screamed in pain laced pleasure, and he sucked in a hard breath. His body was shaking.
Release.
He revelled in this. This adrenalin that flowed through his veins, the way his eyelids fluttered and his mind felt so deliciously high. The way his breathing picked up and his heart started pumping. This...this amazing rush.
It just-it made him feel so alive.
Repulsive.
Everything ended once the blood stopped flowing.
His mind returned to that vile low, the one that made him turn even further into himself. His eyes once again swam over his destructed body, littered with imperfections.
Scars.
Scrapes.
Cuts.
Gashes.
Bruises.
They all made him recoil. Why wasn’t he beautiful? Where were the results his other self had so promised him? He had promised himself that this was the answer, this was what he was supposed to do in order to make himself human! So why was he still so damn HIDEOUS!
Frustrated tears welled up in his eyes, and he angrily wiped them away with his stained fingers.
A rage filled scream erupted from his throat, but quickly died into a choked out cry, until he was on his knees on the ground, face in his hands. He swallowed. His body trembled.
There had to be a solution.
His eyes were wide. He watched the floor, his irises darting around frantically. What had he done wrong? Had it not been enough? He blinked.
Was he supposed to do more?
His wide eyes snapped to his left.
Relief filled him.
There it was! That was his answer! Its shiny surface entranced him. He couldn’t look away. His hands trembled in anticipation. This was it! This would be his ultimate release, his ultimate happiness. He was going to be beautiful!
He picked it up. It sat heavily in his palm.
He brought it upwards, and pointed it towards his temple.
He smiled.
He pulled the trigger.
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