Weaver of Shadows
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Everything posted by Weaver of Shadows
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He did as she asked, bringing out a small canteen for it.
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Umm… you can always say something like “Hi, how are you doing?” -
“What do I do? Teach me.”
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“I…would you make it to the hospital?”
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He grabbed it, one hand still holding his shirt on her hand. He pulled out the stitching supplies. “I…I don’t know how to do this?”
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“I…” Daniel looked down, only now realizing about the blood. “You need help! Do you have any medical supplies?” He took off his shirt and wrapped it around her hand, putting pressure on it.
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Bot
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“I…why would that not matter?” He moved weakly for the knife.
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How nice it is
to have someone
who says what
I cannot
who does that
which is impossible
when I tell him to
who will be
the person
I am
without anyone
knowing that
it’s me.
Do people like him?
They do,
for in making him
into me
I’ve made him better
than I could ever be.
He’s saved lives
fallen in love
made friends fast
ones who actually care.
He’s become
what I wish I was
while still having
the same problems
and thoughts
and feelings
that I do.
And so if he’s struggling
then how could I
should I
not?
But he can talk
to people he loves
and get help.
I can’t
I’m too afraid
so he does it for me
but,
I’ve made him too well
he seems his own person
or no one actually knows me
because they suspect
nothing, or so
it seems
to me.
SpoilerLove you all, thanks for letting me say what I could never say to people IRL!
This just kind of…came. If you know what it means, great! I don’t expect any of you to understand all of it though.
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“But she can be wrong. She said she loves me. But how could she? How could anyone? It would be better. Let me do it.”
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“I won’t do that. I would never. But why would you stop me from doing the right thing?”
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“Why? I’m right.”
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“It was me. If I hadn’t been there, you wouldn’t have done that. You would be better without me. Everyone would be.” Her started moving towards the knife.
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“No. I don’t. But you wouldn’t be. You hurt yourself because I talked to you.”
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“No, of course not! But you aren’t me. It would be easier for everyone if I was gone. Even you.”
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“I fail because I can’t do what needs to be done.”
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“…killing myself. I always fail. Why can’t I be strong enough?”
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“So I don’t fail!”
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He began sobbing again. “Why am I never strong enough?!”
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He raised the knife to his throat, beads of blood appearing.
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“No! Don’t leave me!”
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“I…I can’t do this. I can’t live right.”
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He grabbed knife again. “I deserve to die. I failed you. Isn’t it supposed to be better after death?”
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“I…I…” he reached for his belt, grabbing his side knife. He raised it to his throat.
