Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance
That Little Voice
1 reviewGreat, now I'm hearing voices. Well, it won't matter soon enough. Oneshot trade for Sadie/MCR-99.
0Unrated
Sadie, I'd appreciate if you don't do anything stupid after reading this, since it's pretty fucking triggering. Don't take the better part of the story as being harsh against you, it's just written so depressing and whatnot to set the mood of being in despair, and so forth. But if you can stomach it, there's as much of a happy ending that I can ever write at the end of it.
I don't think I can really go on anymore. I mean, what is there to live for? I don't really have all that many reasons. I don't have many friends. Sure, it looks like it from the outside, but really? I don't. And it's not like we're all that close. Fuck it, most of my friends are online, and we've never even met. They probably wouldn't miss me if I left. I mean, really, I let them down all the time, and I just hurt them more than anything, the ones online and the ones I actually know offline. The situation with my family isn't all that much better.
My parents are always arguing, and it's always my fault. At least, that's what I tell myself, even when my parents tell me that it isn't my fault that they're arguing. Of course, I never believe them. Of course it's my fault that they argue so often. I'm such a horrible child. They deserve someone better than me, or at the very least, they deserve to be rid of me.
All the times that I've tried to kill myself, it never worked. Part of me is happy by that, because, really, I'm kinda scared of what happens after we die. I mean, nobody's died all the way and come back to tell us what happens after the long tunnel with light or whatever. What if after we go through that tunnel we end up in heaven or hell or get judged or tossed into another reincarnation or something? But the other part of me that isn't happy, is that aggravating part of me that thinks, “Hey, it's just another thing that you failed. All you do is fail.”
I'm just so sick and tired of failing all the time. I don't feel like failing anymore. I need to do something to end the failures. To actually succeed at something. But most of all, to remove the curse of myself from this world. Outwardly, everyone is going to cry, but I know that inside they'll all be happy that I'm gone. Very happy. Sad thing, isn't it?
So to do the one thing I knew would end all the pain, both the suffering of the people trying to tolerate being around me, and my own of always being a failure, I started stockpiling medication. Aspirin, Tylenol, Advil, Aleve, Midol, Ambien, Xanax, Ritalin, Linsopril, Oxycontin, Klonopin anything I could get my hands on, either through taking it from my own house, buying it at the drug store (they gave me funny looks for it, since I was alone), buying it from kids at school who sold their meds instead of taking them, from the local friendly neighborhood drug dealer, fuck, even stealing from family and friends. This last part made me feel even more guilty than before. I was already enough of a burden to them, I didn't need them to be short a couple pills of a medication that they really needed just because of my being selfish.
But soon enough, it wouldn't matter. I'd stored up enough shit over the past couple of months to kill me. Fuck, it'd kill a damn horse, so of course it would kill me! And if it didn't do the job, and they found me again, then all the aspirins and Tylenol and all the other medications like that would've fucked up my liver and heart and kidneys enough that they wouldn't be able to save me even if they tried. I mean, really, I don't think that they do transplants so quickly, and especially not if the person is someone who's suicidal. No, they'd rather send it to the high-functioning member of society, who has kids to provide for, and never smoke or drank a day in their lives, and never even thought about suicide who's been on a fucking waiting list for months on end.
I'm sitting in my room, door shut and locked, thinking it over one last time. There was really no reason to go on that I could see. It'd fix all my problems once and for all.
Don't do it. a voice in my head whispered to me.
Well it looks like I was going insane and hearing voices now. That's never happened before. At least I won't be hearing them ever again.
Please. the voice whispered again.
“Fuck off.” I muttered. Nothing was stopping me now, especially this stupid little voice. Where did it come from, and who did it think it was to be telling me what to do? It knows absolutely jack about my life.
Please Sadie.
I ignored it, twisting the top off the bottle of water that sat next to me on the bed. It was chilled to perfection, and leaving little damp marks on the bed sheets. That didn't matter, because it was going to all be done with soon.
You're worth so much more than this.
“I'm not, and you fucking know it.” I mutter, before grabbing the plastic container that I'd stored all the pills in over the months, practically ripping the top off of it. My hands were shaking badly, but whether from fear or anticipation I couldn't tell.
You are.
“Not!” I snapped back, scooping up a few of the pills and dropping them into my mouth.
Sadie! No!
I poured the water into my mouth, a little sloshing out and dripping down my chin.
Please!
I shut my mouth and swallowed. The pills left a faint bitter aftertaste in my mouth. Another batch of pills, larger this time, went into my mouth, followed by more water. All I had to do was this maybe a dozen or so more times, and goodbye Sadie.
You can still turn back.
“Turn back to what? A shitty life?” I spat at the voice, before continuing to wash down the pills like they were cheap candies like those I'd eaten on Halloween night as a child.
It'll get better, you just need to hold on.
In between gulps of the little poisons, I managed to say, “I've been fucking holding on for years, and it's never gotten any fucking better.”
Sadie, please, just stop it. Stop and go call 911.
“And get tossed into another fucking looney bin? Maybe for life cause of my record? It ain't happening!”
You can't die! Not tonight...
“I can, and I will.”
Before long, I had finished all the pills in the plastic box. Maybe 500 or more of the fuckers gone. My water was gone, too. There was a really strong, nasty taste in my mouth, and my throat felt like there were at least a few pills stuck in there, if not more.
Getting up, I tossed the bottle into the trash can in the corner of my room, not wanting to be even more of a mess after I was dead than I already was now. I started shuffling my way over to the bed, already feeling the effects of some of the pills kicking in. Fuck, they worked fast. It'd been maybe 5 or less minutes since I had started downing them like there was no tomorrow.
Before I got there, I spared a look in the mirror, and instantly regretted it. Rumpled pajamas that look like they've been lived in for a few days, mousy, bushy and frizzy short brown hair, dull green eyes so dark they might as well be black, and skin slightly whiter than a Hobbit's ass, with those oh so lovely purple bruises below the eyes. Yup, definitely have to go.
It doesn't.
“It does.” I slur.
I manage to make it over to the bed and flop down on it. Darkness consumes me within minutes.
I see a long tunnel, and there's a light all the way at the end of it, like the dull sunlight on an overcast day. I take a few tentative steps towards the end. I can see that it opens into what looks like a city on the other side. A city with skyscrapers and so much clouds. But for some reason, it looks rather nice to me. I take a few more steps towards it. Then, something occurs to me.
Isn't this what people usually go through when they're dying or dead or come near to death?
I turn around and look behind me. I'm seeing into my room, and I see my body laying there on the bed. I truly do look hideous. For a moment, I feel the overwhelming urge to run back to my body and try and get back into it, and just let life go back to normal. But then again, there's no way that I'll survive what I've just done, and I'll end up back in this same fucking tunnel within a few days anyways, so why prolong it?
I turn around, and finish walking down the tunnel. Each step I take, I start to feel my mood lift, but also feel my stomach sink with the knowledge that there's no turning back from this now, not even if I wanted to.
Soon enough, I'm outside of the tunnel, and in the city. Somehow or another, I ended up in an alley. I turn around, and sure enough, the tunnel is slowly closing after me. Before long, I couldn't see my body, and then, the tunnel started to seal, until there was no evidence that it had ever existed. I turned around again. That was when I saw him.
A guy, maybe in his early 20's, leaning against the side of the alley. He was tall as hell, standing easily head and shoulders above me, and bone thin, with long black hair, the top of which was rather fluffy and teased to stick up in many different directions. But the most striking thing about him, however, was the fact that he had huge feathery black wings.
Then he turned to face me, and I could see that despite his tough looking exterior, a tear was tracing it's way down the side of his face, taking the face paint he wore down with it.
“Why, Sadie?” He asked me. His voice was the same as that that I had heard in my head in my room earlier.
I opened my mouth, and closed it again. My throat felt like it was tightening up and I couldn't breathe. The only thing I could do was make a strange little cross between a choke and a sob. My eyes were watering like crazy.
He was in front of me in a heartbeat, pulling me into a hug. I stood stiff, resisting for a moment. Then, I let out a slight hiccup, and wrapped my arms around him in a bone crushing hug.
“It was just too much for me to take!” I wailed, burying my face in his chest. Then, the tears that had been threatening to spill overflowed, and it seemed that once they started, they wouldn't stop coming. I was soaking his shirt, but he didn't seem to mind in the slightest. In fact, he was rubbing my back.
“It's ok, it's all over now.” he said comfortingly.
Even so, I couldn't stop crying.
“But still.” I protested, sounding for all the world like a toddler.
“I know.” He said.
A part of my mind told me that I didn't deserve this, that this was all a mistake, and I'd be waking up in a hospital somewhere being told that I had fatal organ damage, or that I was going to be sent away for the rest of my entire fucking life. But I wasn't going to listen to it. At least, not for now. For now, I would enjoy whatever this was for however long that it decided to last.
I'm not sure how long we stood there, but finally, I pulled away slightly from him, my face still wet with tears.
“ 'm sorry about all this.” I mumbled.
“It's fine.” He replied, letting go of me and gently wiping my cheeks dry. I looked at him in disbelief.
“Really, it is. Since you're here, I'm going to be taking care of you, okay?” He added, catching the look on my face.
“About what happened earlier...” I started, not sure where I was taking it.
"Yeah?”
“Sorry for being rude and all, I just... I... Well-”
“It's ok, you were upset. No hard feelings.” He replied.
“Thanks.” I said, smiling at him.
“No problem. C'mon, let's go get you settled in.” He said, extending his hand to me.
“I never did catch your name.” I said, taking it.
“The name's Andy. Andy Biersack.” He replied with a chuckle, leading me out of the alley.
As I followed him through the city, my hand still in his, I felt happy, genuinely happy, like I haven't felt in such a long time that I couldn't remember. I think things here with Andy are going to be much better than what I just left.
I don't think I can really go on anymore. I mean, what is there to live for? I don't really have all that many reasons. I don't have many friends. Sure, it looks like it from the outside, but really? I don't. And it's not like we're all that close. Fuck it, most of my friends are online, and we've never even met. They probably wouldn't miss me if I left. I mean, really, I let them down all the time, and I just hurt them more than anything, the ones online and the ones I actually know offline. The situation with my family isn't all that much better.
My parents are always arguing, and it's always my fault. At least, that's what I tell myself, even when my parents tell me that it isn't my fault that they're arguing. Of course, I never believe them. Of course it's my fault that they argue so often. I'm such a horrible child. They deserve someone better than me, or at the very least, they deserve to be rid of me.
All the times that I've tried to kill myself, it never worked. Part of me is happy by that, because, really, I'm kinda scared of what happens after we die. I mean, nobody's died all the way and come back to tell us what happens after the long tunnel with light or whatever. What if after we go through that tunnel we end up in heaven or hell or get judged or tossed into another reincarnation or something? But the other part of me that isn't happy, is that aggravating part of me that thinks, “Hey, it's just another thing that you failed. All you do is fail.”
I'm just so sick and tired of failing all the time. I don't feel like failing anymore. I need to do something to end the failures. To actually succeed at something. But most of all, to remove the curse of myself from this world. Outwardly, everyone is going to cry, but I know that inside they'll all be happy that I'm gone. Very happy. Sad thing, isn't it?
So to do the one thing I knew would end all the pain, both the suffering of the people trying to tolerate being around me, and my own of always being a failure, I started stockpiling medication. Aspirin, Tylenol, Advil, Aleve, Midol, Ambien, Xanax, Ritalin, Linsopril, Oxycontin, Klonopin anything I could get my hands on, either through taking it from my own house, buying it at the drug store (they gave me funny looks for it, since I was alone), buying it from kids at school who sold their meds instead of taking them, from the local friendly neighborhood drug dealer, fuck, even stealing from family and friends. This last part made me feel even more guilty than before. I was already enough of a burden to them, I didn't need them to be short a couple pills of a medication that they really needed just because of my being selfish.
But soon enough, it wouldn't matter. I'd stored up enough shit over the past couple of months to kill me. Fuck, it'd kill a damn horse, so of course it would kill me! And if it didn't do the job, and they found me again, then all the aspirins and Tylenol and all the other medications like that would've fucked up my liver and heart and kidneys enough that they wouldn't be able to save me even if they tried. I mean, really, I don't think that they do transplants so quickly, and especially not if the person is someone who's suicidal. No, they'd rather send it to the high-functioning member of society, who has kids to provide for, and never smoke or drank a day in their lives, and never even thought about suicide who's been on a fucking waiting list for months on end.
I'm sitting in my room, door shut and locked, thinking it over one last time. There was really no reason to go on that I could see. It'd fix all my problems once and for all.
Don't do it. a voice in my head whispered to me.
Well it looks like I was going insane and hearing voices now. That's never happened before. At least I won't be hearing them ever again.
Please. the voice whispered again.
“Fuck off.” I muttered. Nothing was stopping me now, especially this stupid little voice. Where did it come from, and who did it think it was to be telling me what to do? It knows absolutely jack about my life.
Please Sadie.
I ignored it, twisting the top off the bottle of water that sat next to me on the bed. It was chilled to perfection, and leaving little damp marks on the bed sheets. That didn't matter, because it was going to all be done with soon.
You're worth so much more than this.
“I'm not, and you fucking know it.” I mutter, before grabbing the plastic container that I'd stored all the pills in over the months, practically ripping the top off of it. My hands were shaking badly, but whether from fear or anticipation I couldn't tell.
You are.
“Not!” I snapped back, scooping up a few of the pills and dropping them into my mouth.
Sadie! No!
I poured the water into my mouth, a little sloshing out and dripping down my chin.
Please!
I shut my mouth and swallowed. The pills left a faint bitter aftertaste in my mouth. Another batch of pills, larger this time, went into my mouth, followed by more water. All I had to do was this maybe a dozen or so more times, and goodbye Sadie.
You can still turn back.
“Turn back to what? A shitty life?” I spat at the voice, before continuing to wash down the pills like they were cheap candies like those I'd eaten on Halloween night as a child.
It'll get better, you just need to hold on.
In between gulps of the little poisons, I managed to say, “I've been fucking holding on for years, and it's never gotten any fucking better.”
Sadie, please, just stop it. Stop and go call 911.
“And get tossed into another fucking looney bin? Maybe for life cause of my record? It ain't happening!”
You can't die! Not tonight...
“I can, and I will.”
Before long, I had finished all the pills in the plastic box. Maybe 500 or more of the fuckers gone. My water was gone, too. There was a really strong, nasty taste in my mouth, and my throat felt like there were at least a few pills stuck in there, if not more.
Getting up, I tossed the bottle into the trash can in the corner of my room, not wanting to be even more of a mess after I was dead than I already was now. I started shuffling my way over to the bed, already feeling the effects of some of the pills kicking in. Fuck, they worked fast. It'd been maybe 5 or less minutes since I had started downing them like there was no tomorrow.
Before I got there, I spared a look in the mirror, and instantly regretted it. Rumpled pajamas that look like they've been lived in for a few days, mousy, bushy and frizzy short brown hair, dull green eyes so dark they might as well be black, and skin slightly whiter than a Hobbit's ass, with those oh so lovely purple bruises below the eyes. Yup, definitely have to go.
It doesn't.
“It does.” I slur.
I manage to make it over to the bed and flop down on it. Darkness consumes me within minutes.
I see a long tunnel, and there's a light all the way at the end of it, like the dull sunlight on an overcast day. I take a few tentative steps towards the end. I can see that it opens into what looks like a city on the other side. A city with skyscrapers and so much clouds. But for some reason, it looks rather nice to me. I take a few more steps towards it. Then, something occurs to me.
Isn't this what people usually go through when they're dying or dead or come near to death?
I turn around and look behind me. I'm seeing into my room, and I see my body laying there on the bed. I truly do look hideous. For a moment, I feel the overwhelming urge to run back to my body and try and get back into it, and just let life go back to normal. But then again, there's no way that I'll survive what I've just done, and I'll end up back in this same fucking tunnel within a few days anyways, so why prolong it?
I turn around, and finish walking down the tunnel. Each step I take, I start to feel my mood lift, but also feel my stomach sink with the knowledge that there's no turning back from this now, not even if I wanted to.
Soon enough, I'm outside of the tunnel, and in the city. Somehow or another, I ended up in an alley. I turn around, and sure enough, the tunnel is slowly closing after me. Before long, I couldn't see my body, and then, the tunnel started to seal, until there was no evidence that it had ever existed. I turned around again. That was when I saw him.
A guy, maybe in his early 20's, leaning against the side of the alley. He was tall as hell, standing easily head and shoulders above me, and bone thin, with long black hair, the top of which was rather fluffy and teased to stick up in many different directions. But the most striking thing about him, however, was the fact that he had huge feathery black wings.
Then he turned to face me, and I could see that despite his tough looking exterior, a tear was tracing it's way down the side of his face, taking the face paint he wore down with it.
“Why, Sadie?” He asked me. His voice was the same as that that I had heard in my head in my room earlier.
I opened my mouth, and closed it again. My throat felt like it was tightening up and I couldn't breathe. The only thing I could do was make a strange little cross between a choke and a sob. My eyes were watering like crazy.
He was in front of me in a heartbeat, pulling me into a hug. I stood stiff, resisting for a moment. Then, I let out a slight hiccup, and wrapped my arms around him in a bone crushing hug.
“It was just too much for me to take!” I wailed, burying my face in his chest. Then, the tears that had been threatening to spill overflowed, and it seemed that once they started, they wouldn't stop coming. I was soaking his shirt, but he didn't seem to mind in the slightest. In fact, he was rubbing my back.
“It's ok, it's all over now.” he said comfortingly.
Even so, I couldn't stop crying.
“But still.” I protested, sounding for all the world like a toddler.
“I know.” He said.
A part of my mind told me that I didn't deserve this, that this was all a mistake, and I'd be waking up in a hospital somewhere being told that I had fatal organ damage, or that I was going to be sent away for the rest of my entire fucking life. But I wasn't going to listen to it. At least, not for now. For now, I would enjoy whatever this was for however long that it decided to last.
I'm not sure how long we stood there, but finally, I pulled away slightly from him, my face still wet with tears.
“ 'm sorry about all this.” I mumbled.
“It's fine.” He replied, letting go of me and gently wiping my cheeks dry. I looked at him in disbelief.
“Really, it is. Since you're here, I'm going to be taking care of you, okay?” He added, catching the look on my face.
“About what happened earlier...” I started, not sure where I was taking it.
"Yeah?”
“Sorry for being rude and all, I just... I... Well-”
“It's ok, you were upset. No hard feelings.” He replied.
“Thanks.” I said, smiling at him.
“No problem. C'mon, let's go get you settled in.” He said, extending his hand to me.
“I never did catch your name.” I said, taking it.
“The name's Andy. Andy Biersack.” He replied with a chuckle, leading me out of the alley.
As I followed him through the city, my hand still in his, I felt happy, genuinely happy, like I haven't felt in such a long time that I couldn't remember. I think things here with Andy are going to be much better than what I just left.
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