TW: Suicide, murder, drug use, swearing, depression, violence, existential themes, mental-health issues, attempted suicide

DAY SEVEN (again)

Lou found me before I could do it.

I’d screamed at him, kicked and cried, but he wouldn’t let my hurt myself.So I hurt him.

I stared down at my bloodied hands. He hadn’t let me commit, so I had killed him. Stabbed him in the stomach, over and over again.

I stare at his dead, lifeless face, ignoring the growing pool of blood

My eyes traced the lines of his nose, the curls of his hair.

His blood was all over me, in my hair, under my nails.

He said he’d never leave.

Now he couldn’t.

The realization that I had killed my brother slams into me again.

Worse still,

I didn’t feel any guilt or remorse.

I knew I would do it again and again.