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Shattered, tired and broken


~Inspired by some of Jacksepticeye's SERIOUS videos~ Videos: THIS GAME IS IMPORTANT | You Left Me, Missed Messages, THIS EXPERIENCE IS NOT FOR EVERYONE | When The Darkness Comes, A LONG EMOTIONAL NIGHT | Far From Noise, TIE - A Game About Depression, It's Always Monday, Gone In November, ALONT WITH DARK THOUGHTS | Presentable Liberty, VIEWER DISCRETION ADVISED | The Static Speaks My Name

Age Rating:


Do you ever just feel so.. low. So negative. Empty even. To the point where you can't remember what it feels like to be happy, or angry, or anything else between, because you feel so drained to the point where you don't have any emotions, feelings, or other things. You're just an empty shell brought into existence to do your job, to do what you want. You do everything possible and you do nothing possible and impossible at the same time. You either make the world good or bad by doing what you do, then your time is up.

I blink my eyes open, the first thing coming into view being my wall on the other side of my bedroom, with some scratch markings embedded deeply into it, as a large, sharp, knife lays on the floor, besides the wall, with some white dust on it.

Right, now I remember. For the past few nights, or weeks, actually months even, I've been.. damaging. Not just myself, but everything around me and I guess the closest thing to me to damage, last night, was my wall.

The markings were words, or rather messages.

help me

It's near




And lots more, these were just some examples. I look from the wall, to the floor underneath/close to my bed, seeing that my phone was glancing screen down on the once clean, used to be a light but is now a dark, grey carpet. I shift around my bed a bit and stretch my arm downwards to reach my phone. I wrap my fingers around the device and lift my arm up. The phone, now being in front of my face as I hold it, whilst I lay on my back instead of my left side of my (aching and cracking) body.

I turn the device on, seeing I've got notifications, not loads, just a few. I type in my password as the phone unlocks and shows up with the home screen, the background of it being a picture of someone.

Someone close to me.

Or at least, he was.

It's a photo of my boyfriend, Logan on his sixteenth birthday, which was two years ago, we went to this book festival type place that the school we used to go to, had going on, he didn't know about it, so I insisted on us going there as a surprise for him, seeing as he was such a huge nerd and loved everything to do with books. From logical statements to fantasy coloured in pictures. As he was looking around at each self of various of books individually, I brought him a book. It was one that was wrote by one of his favourite authors and it was also a book he did not have yet, seeing as he was unsure to where he could but it from.

So when I bought the book and walked over to him, finding him sitting on a dark blue bean bag, reading something about a caticorn, I surprised him and gave him the book.

You wouldn't believe how happy and emotional he looked. He was always so.. robot looking.

It was great, seeing him smile. He got excited and wouldn't stop thanking me, he even blurted out that he loved me. That was when I, the anxious mess that I am, bravely asked him if he would like to go out with me.

He nodded furiously and said, or more like shouted, yes, from excitement, probably because I got him that book and he wouldn't stop fanboying about it.

We were, I'd say personally, a great couple. Sure, we had a few fights here and there about some things. But that's normal in a couple. Some fights are what brings you and your partner closer to one and another. Would you count either going to a library to sit and read with each other or sitting inside and playing board and/or video games and watching different films as dates? Because that's what we did for date nights.

Though, during Easter holidays a few months ago, the world decided to be cruel. It was an early morning. Yes, morning, not night, I used to be a morning person, but I'm not any longer.


We were strolling through the street we lived on, as the moon was going down on one side of the world, as the sun was peeking up, to say hello, making a beautiful painted sunrise of a sky.

Though, stupidly enough as we were chatting about our future plans, about when we could leave our parents homes and get ourselves a house or a flat of our own, we would buy a pet bird, something like a cockatoo, or a cockatiel or heck, even a budgie. But whilst we were distracted by our chat and the sunrise up ahead, a gun went off.

His death was my fault. Everyone says it's not, but it is.

I couldn't save him in time. I was standing right next to him as it was closing him. I didn't push him out of the way or anything. Just stood there, frozen in my spot. Panicking. Worrying. Shaking. Shocked. Scared. Any words on that list is how I all felt.

The bullet went right through his chest, making a disgustingly almost making a perfect hole in him, as blood spluttered everywhere as he stumbled, losing his once perfect and even balance. He stumbled and found himself lying on the edge of the pavement, close to the luckily empty and dead looking road.

I rushed over to him, impossibly panicking even more than I already was and already do, with my day to day life. I clumsily got my phone out of my pocket, dropping it a few times as I couldn't stop shaking and tapped onto the emergency number at the bottom of my locked screen, asking for an ambulance, stuttering and almost shouting what happened and hurried them.

They took him to the hospital. I wasn't allowed to visit, or at least not by myself anyways, so I called up one of the two of my brothers, Roman, seeing if he could take me to the hospital, so he did.

It weren't just us two though, Roman's new found boyfriend, Patton came along with too. We went to the hospital and waited in the waiting area we were told to walk to. I couldn't stay still. I couldn't stop fidgeting. I was biting my nails, scratching my arms, kept checking my phone, playing with my fingers, pacing. Anything I could find to do that would make me fidget any parts of my body. No matter what, I needed to and couldn't stop moving about, even when the other two and some strangers along with medic people told and tried to stop me from doing so.

It was getting to that time of morning, and we were forced to go home, I didn't want to. I tried my best to stay put but I forced out of the building by one of the doctors that looked horribly creepy looking. His looks and voice gave me bad shivers down my back.

So we went home. Or rather, my parents let me sleep at my brothers and his boyfriends place. My brother, Roman, gave up his room for me. Even though I insisted him on not to.

But he didn't take the chance and I just gave in eventually, he slept with Patton in his bedroom next room over anyways.

I got some shuteye for I suppose what was meant to be a few hours but really, it only felt like zero point zero two seconds.

What woke me up, was that ear-aching and boring sounding ringtone of the landline downstairs from the living room. I got up and made my way downstairs, just in time to see Roman hang up on the landline, he put it back on the hook and turned around, seeing me there, standing in the doorway. He gave me this breaking look and whispered "I'm sorry."

That was the day my life turned upside down. From bad to good to bad once more and forever more. Always will be now.

I place my fingers on my cheek, feeling wetness painted on my face as tears appear in my eyes. Crying. I'm crying once again and this time, I don't do anything to stop it from happening.

After what felt like a while of just holding my phone tightly in my hand, the screen faded to black, meaning it shut off and locked itself again after a minute or so. As I was curled into a tight ball, placing my head into my knees, as I face downwards, whilst tears kept dripping and flowing like rain pouring on a stormy Sunday against a moving cars, shut window. The crying eventually stopped, as all was left coming out of me was random non-patterned hiccups and sniffles, as my breathing was heavy and my eyes in pain, with a scratching feeling inside of my throat.

I move my covers out of my way as I place my phone down onto the mattress, I go over to my wardrobe and open it up, picking whatever at random, they were all similar anyways. Blacks, dark midnight purples and dark storm cloud greys and even some deep blues, all four colours filled my wardrobe from one side to the other, from top to bottom, one corner to all the other three.

I slide the day clothes off the hanger, putting the hanger back onto the railing inside my wardrobe, as I shut the wooden doors.

I take the clothes, along with some underwear too and wobbly and carefully leave my safe space that is named and claimed my bedroom.

I walk across the landing way and open the door, into the cool feeling bathroom, feeling the tiles underneath my bare feet. I close the door behind myself once I enter the square, boxy, tiny, cold room. I slide my pyjamas off and putting them in the linen bin in the corner, underneath a pack of shelves off soaps and other things you need in the bathroom. I pick up a clothing, one by one and sliding them on.

Finding myself, in some dark blue, room feeling jeans, along with a striped blue shirt, that has a small logo of a brain with glasses on it, on the pocket of the shirt, with my favourite black and a few different purple coloured patches, sewn with white string, holding the patches in place on the jacket. Just now realising, that I'm wearing one of Logan's shirts.. one of his favourites.. to be more specific. The logo, was handmade, by himself. He said, if he ever owns and builds his own shop, that'll be the logo.

I do my business whilst I'm here. Ya know, brushing my teeth and face, as I comb my hair to look at least a tad alive and presentable to the world, touching up my make up, with the help of looking at a mirror and having a self talk in the mirror too. Not like how Roman does, where he talks about how he's all so apparently fabulous and handsome and whatever else he says. That's what Patton told me he hears when he's making breakfast at their place anyways.

I leave the bathroom, and head downstairs, staying in the hallway as I walk to near the front door, I slide my shoes on that's in the cabinet by the door and open the wooden rectangle in front of me, seeing that it's unlocked, guessing one of my parents, or my other older brother, Thomas already went out or something. I step out and close the door behind myself, with a slight slam.

I step away from the house and turn on the path, I soon start walking only god knows where. Or maybe not. I feel a slight drip on my nose, I look up a bit to see that it's starting to drizzle, so I place my hands on my hood and pull it up, then placing my hands in my pockets, with my head down facing the concrete that is the path. I don't have to look up to where I'm going. I'm alright.

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