Selfish

A Story by Elemiah

btw she's a vamp also she has schizophrenia

Selfish. The voice reminded her. Was it not her own? She was beyond the ability to tell. Selfish selfish Cassiel. Her broken sobs only increased as the cuts she was making on her wrist healed quickly, though a small pool of blood had managed to collect under her. So selfish. Her tears dripped off her face and mixed with the blood. That’s what he’ll think of me if I succeed. Weakly lifting the knife, she rested against her neck, feeling the weight, feeling the sharpness of the blade. She knew this. She knew that when people commit suicide, on the outside they say “Oh that’s terrible, that poor thing, to be driven to this”. And perhaps, on the inside they say such things too. But deep within themselves, they think “Why? Why did she end her life? Why did she abandon her child and husband and all the people who love them? Why did she cause them so much anguish? How selfish.” No energy now to try and cut at her throat.

Why am I like this? Why can’t I just act like a normal person? The blade felt so heavy, so comforting. Normal people don’t do things like this. Even if they think such things, they don’t act on them. They don’t cry for attention so…so selfishly. She was aware now of the whispers, the whispers she had heard for so many years. Eyes closed tightly, she shuddered as she heard the darkness come to swallow her up. I want it to end…I want it to end…please…I can’t take but so much…

Death is peace. Suicide is selfish. Do it. Don’t. Go on. No no no. Two separate voices warred within her. Both herself, but at the same time not. Just at the point where she was about to drive the knife into her head, to end the tormenting voices, a third interjected.

“Cassiel!” That voice isn’t mine… Suddenly she was encapsulated in warm, comforting arms. A hand gently retrieved the knife; she made no attempt to keep it. “Cassie…what…”

“Cassiel just wants attention.” She heard herself saying. “She’s not really hurting.” Even as she spoke, she sobbed harder.

“But if she wants attention, she can ask for it, can’t she?”

“She wants pity. She wants to be coddled, and doted on.” Her sobs got harder as she tried desperately to regain control of her voice, the voice that was mocking her.

“She’s hurting.” He whispered softly, cradling her closer. “She’s hurting and doesn’t know what to do.”

“So you’re going to coddle her.”

“I’m going to help her.” Suddenly, she felt as if someone had been strangling her, and she had just been released. She gasped aloud, and clung tightly to his chest, as new sobs began.

I want help…I need help…I need him and his love…