liquidtears (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
liquidtears) wrote2010-06-18 12:17 pm
liquidtears) wrote2010-06-18 12:17 pm
Entry tags:
Pleasures of Pain - Chapter 1
Title: Pleasures of Pain
Rating: NC17
Summary: All he wants is a reply... but hears nothing from her. It makes him snap and then he discovers the pleasures of pain.
Warning: not your average story, so be warned.
Every day I would sit in front of my computer in my bedroom right after coming home from school, just to check if she had replied. I would always send her an email at exactly the same date, except with one small difference, the month. I would always wait a month before sending her a new one: the girl I was in love with, the idol I was a fan of, the celebrity who I decorated my bedroom walls with many posters, pictures, tv show DVDs and movie DVDs that I had of her.
I was never hugely affected by the outcome of not seeing her reply in my inbox folder of my email account. I always figured she was too busy to reply to her fans. So every day I always logged off with that same feeling and would start my homework.
Until another month had passed. It was the month before my birthday and so it would mark the 10th email that I would send to her.
As if it being the tenth email was some kind of negative milestone, I was consumed with a hate that would force me to make a sacrifice, be it one poster or photograph of the one I loved. I would never want to destroy a tv show DVD or movie DVD in which she featured, I was not like that. Yeah, I could throw it away in the trash can and then buy a new one...
Miraculously I repressed the urge to make that sacrifice, this time... until the next month which would mean that I would write my 11th email to her. When that day approached, I had everything already planned out, but one question still remained, which one would I sacrifice?
I figured I would start with the very first one of her back when she had been on that show... so when I came home from school, I went to my bedroom but not to check my email on my computer, oh no... I walked up to the poster.
My hand shot out and ripped that poster from the wall. My hand changed into a fist and crumbled the poster into a ball. It was like my hand wasn't mine. It all happened so fast.
I always loved baseball and basketball so of course that created ball reached my trash can, acting like it was the hoop, but that was beside the point.
I didn't even check my email then. No, I just stayed in that same position and watched the newly created space on the wall, devoid of any emotion. I didn't even cry. I remained that way until the door opened and my mother asked me if I would come down for dinner.
I didn't say anything but turned around and walked out of my bedroom to go have dinner. My mother didn't say it, but I knew she had seen the blank spot on my wall. I never threw away posters, you see. I wasn't even very talkative, not like I always am. Talking about how school was and everything, you know? But not today. I didn't talk about what I wanted for my birthday which was around the corner.
That night, I couldn't sleep. I kept looking up at the ceiling and was unable to close my eyes. I had done something I had never done before and now I felt like I needed to atone for my sin. Only then I would be able to fall asleep.
So I turned on my bedroom light and opened a drawer of my nightstand. I retrieved my pocket knife that I kept in there.
I unsheathed the knife and without contemplating where I would cut myself, slid it in my leg. I didn't cry out at the pain but the thought of screaming out had been there, I just didn't act on voicing that cry. I pulled the knife out of my leg and watched the blood well up from my self-inflicted wound. I got on my other knee while I kept the leg where I had cut into outstretched and touched the running blood with my tongue, lapping up the crimson spill. I hadn't cut myself too deep.
I licked my partially blooded knife clean while I avoided cutting into my tongue, then I snapped my pocket knife shut and retrieved a small bit of tape and applied it on my wound.
I turned around and placed my lips softly against those lips of the one I was in love with.
I turned off the bedroom light and fell asleep.
This was just one of many pleasures of pain that I would feel...
to be continued...
Rating: NC17
Summary: All he wants is a reply... but hears nothing from her. It makes him snap and then he discovers the pleasures of pain.
Warning: not your average story, so be warned.
Every day I would sit in front of my computer in my bedroom right after coming home from school, just to check if she had replied. I would always send her an email at exactly the same date, except with one small difference, the month. I would always wait a month before sending her a new one: the girl I was in love with, the idol I was a fan of, the celebrity who I decorated my bedroom walls with many posters, pictures, tv show DVDs and movie DVDs that I had of her.
I was never hugely affected by the outcome of not seeing her reply in my inbox folder of my email account. I always figured she was too busy to reply to her fans. So every day I always logged off with that same feeling and would start my homework.
Until another month had passed. It was the month before my birthday and so it would mark the 10th email that I would send to her.
As if it being the tenth email was some kind of negative milestone, I was consumed with a hate that would force me to make a sacrifice, be it one poster or photograph of the one I loved. I would never want to destroy a tv show DVD or movie DVD in which she featured, I was not like that. Yeah, I could throw it away in the trash can and then buy a new one...
Miraculously I repressed the urge to make that sacrifice, this time... until the next month which would mean that I would write my 11th email to her. When that day approached, I had everything already planned out, but one question still remained, which one would I sacrifice?
I figured I would start with the very first one of her back when she had been on that show... so when I came home from school, I went to my bedroom but not to check my email on my computer, oh no... I walked up to the poster.
My hand shot out and ripped that poster from the wall. My hand changed into a fist and crumbled the poster into a ball. It was like my hand wasn't mine. It all happened so fast.
I always loved baseball and basketball so of course that created ball reached my trash can, acting like it was the hoop, but that was beside the point.
I didn't even check my email then. No, I just stayed in that same position and watched the newly created space on the wall, devoid of any emotion. I didn't even cry. I remained that way until the door opened and my mother asked me if I would come down for dinner.
I didn't say anything but turned around and walked out of my bedroom to go have dinner. My mother didn't say it, but I knew she had seen the blank spot on my wall. I never threw away posters, you see. I wasn't even very talkative, not like I always am. Talking about how school was and everything, you know? But not today. I didn't talk about what I wanted for my birthday which was around the corner.
That night, I couldn't sleep. I kept looking up at the ceiling and was unable to close my eyes. I had done something I had never done before and now I felt like I needed to atone for my sin. Only then I would be able to fall asleep.
So I turned on my bedroom light and opened a drawer of my nightstand. I retrieved my pocket knife that I kept in there.
I unsheathed the knife and without contemplating where I would cut myself, slid it in my leg. I didn't cry out at the pain but the thought of screaming out had been there, I just didn't act on voicing that cry. I pulled the knife out of my leg and watched the blood well up from my self-inflicted wound. I got on my other knee while I kept the leg where I had cut into outstretched and touched the running blood with my tongue, lapping up the crimson spill. I hadn't cut myself too deep.
I licked my partially blooded knife clean while I avoided cutting into my tongue, then I snapped my pocket knife shut and retrieved a small bit of tape and applied it on my wound.
I turned around and placed my lips softly against those lips of the one I was in love with.
I turned off the bedroom light and fell asleep.
This was just one of many pleasures of pain that I would feel...
to be continued...