The end.
Hate, It's one word, two syllables and a lot of emotion.
Love, it's one word, two syllables and a lot of emotion.
Two words, Two opposites.
Hate, it's what he felt.
Love, it's what he shared.
Shared to help others, so they didn't feel like he did, so they didn't feel hated.
And his life will never be the same.
Damien's life will never be the same.
The blade pushed against the soft scarred flesh of his warm pulsing wrist.
The note's written. The pills were taken. The pain is slowly slipping away from his mind.
Why did they say the things they did? What made them hurt him? Why did they hurt him? So what if he's different?
Tears flowing unwilling on his cheeks. He’s hand completes the movement before his mind. Blood now flows down his arm, his leg and stains the tiled bathroom floor. It flows slower and slower as he drifts off, the deep slumber of eternal peace calling over everything.
Outside the door is a loud bang.
“Damien! ” The mothers' voice calls, the silence and comfort that was once there, gone. Panic, blood, confusion, pain. A screen of black.
His scenes disappear.
Nothing but peace.
Finally peace.
No more scars. No more lies.
