In a state of emotional turmoil, you never really understand why things happen the way that they do. You always think that it's somehow your fault, in some way or another. Whatever caused the situation you're suddenly in is your fault, too. Sometimes, the pain becomes too much to handle on a regular basis. Sometimes, you literally look for a way out. A way to release the pain.

Sometimes, that pain takes over you completely.

Sitting alone in my room at night, I had plenty of time to think. The conditions were perfect. There was silence, darkness, and a surprisingly calm feel to the place. In a way, I kind of enjoyed sitting on my unmade bed and just staring blankly at the wall directly across from me, letting my thoughts unravel. To me, it was pure bliss.

Until thinking just wasn't enough.

You were really stupid, Michael. It was your fault that jackass beat you up today.

“No, it wasn't. He was just that: a jackass. I didn't do anything,” I muttered quietly, answering my own thoughts.

You can think that all you want, Michael. Sadly, it doesn't matter.

I paused for a moment. For some reason, no matter how much I tried to shake off the uneasy feeling that it was, in fact, my fault, I couldn't. It wasn't my fault that Derrick – one of the jocks at school – decided to beat the shit out of me. It wasn't my fault that he got suspended. It wasn't my fault that he wanted revenge on my older brother, and what better way to get revenge than by hurting his baby brother?

I hadn't spoken to Gerard all day that day. I tried to avoid him, knowing that he'd have a fit over my black eye and the bruises all over my body. I also knew that he would punch Derrick's face in for hurting me, and I didn't want him to make the situation worse for the both of us.

Maybe that was what I needed, though. Maybe I needed Derrick to “tune me in” to how nasty the real world is, and that fantasies are just that: fantasies. They never happen anywhere except for my mind. Reality was what I needed.

I sighed heavily and pressed the heels of my hands into my eyes, trying to focus my thoughts.

If I hadn't been there that day...

Exactly right. If I hadn't been at school that day, then I wouldn't be thinking this. It was my fault that it happened.

“Hey, Way. Where the fuck is your emo fag of a brother?” Derrick sneered, slamming me against the lockers that were at my side.

“Fuck off, Derrick. He's home sick,” I said, loud enough for him to hear.

I instantly regretted it when he grabbed the front of my shirt with his iron grip, keeping me in his grasp. He brought his face close to mine. I could smell the cigarette smoke on his breath.

“What was that, you little shit?” he growled menacingly.

I tried to hide the fear in my eyes. Where the fuck were the guys when I needed them?

Smirking, Derrick let me go, only to slam me back against the lockers and bring his large fist back. I tried my best to protect myself, but he was too quick. In less than a second, his fist connected with my eye. I let out a yell of pain and tried to push him away from me, but to no avail.

The next second, I was thrown down to the ground, feeling a strong kick to my gut. I curled into a ball, trying to protect my vital organs. That didn't stop Derrick. He kicked and punched anywhere and everywhere he could reach.

“Tell your brother that-”

“Derrick Watson, what are you doing?!”

I turned my head weakly towards the teacher's voice and forced a small smile as Derrick tried and failed to explain himself. It didn't turn out so great for him, what with him being the only person around me at that time.

After another teacher helped me up off the ground, I looked at him quietly and, without another word, ran out of the school as fast as my legs could carry me. Tears burned behind my eyes, not only from pain, but from absolute humiliation. There may not have been any kids around at the time, but the fact that Derrick beat me up so easily...

I shook my head, angrily wiping the tears that did manage to fall with the back of my hand. I couldn't go home. Not yet. I had to calm down first. Otherwise, Gerard would know that something was up. I didn't need to worry him.

But, it was really cold outside, and I didn't have any time to grab my jacket before I ran off. It'd be risky going home, but I had to take that chance.

I slowed my pace as I came up to the front door, going inside and rushing to my room, ignoring Gerard's questioning greeting. I slammed my door shut and collapsed on my bed, hiding my bruised face in my pillow and crying softly.

However, my tears were interrupted by a soft knock at my door.

“Mikey? Are you okay?” Gerard asked through the door.

“Go away...” I moaned, not getting up from the bed.

“Mikey, what's wrong?” he asked, sounding concerned.

“I said, 'GO AWAY!'” I screamed,still not moving from the bed.

I heard Gerard's heavy sigh as he backed away. “If you need to talk...” he began.

“I don't need to talk. I need you to go away,” I muttered, angrily wiping the tears off of my face.

Looking back on it then, I wished that I had talked to him about it. If I had, then I wouldn't feel like shit.

Don't tell him, you idiot. You don't wanna drag him into this, remember?

“But, I need to tell him...he's my big brother,” I whispered softly, hugging my knees back up to my chest.

I don't care if he's your brother or not. Look at yourself. Would he like to see that, do you think?!

I slowly looked into the mirror in my room. The black-and-purple bruises still stood out on my skin. Gerard definitely wouldn't want to see that...

So, you see what I mean, Michael?

“So, what am I supposed to do?” I wondered aloud.

There was a brief moment of silence as the whole world seemed to suck in its breath.

Get revenge, Michael.

I frowned slightly as the words sunk in slowly. Revenge? It sounded so...dark, and cruel. But, at the same time, it sounded sweet, like a beautiful dream.

“How?” I whispered.

I jumped when I heard a small dark chuckle. My heart rate suddenly picked up dramatically, and I was almost fighting for air. That was when I realized what I was thinking. I didn't want to get revenge! I didn't want to hurt anybody just because they hurt me. What was the point in that?

I repeated the thoughts out loud to myself.

Don't be stupid, Michael! Of course you want revenge. You're NOT just going to sit back and let Derrick get away with what he did!

“He got suspended, though... he didn't get away with it...” I muttered under my breath.

Of course he got away with it, you imbecile! Unless you get your revenge, you'll never regain your dignity, and he'll just treat you like trash for the rest of your weak and miserable life! Do you want that? DO YOU?!

“SHUT UP!” I yelled, covering my ears with my hands. I clenched my eyes shut and held my breath, not wanting to hear anything else from the voice in my head.

“Mikey? Are you okay?” I heard Gerard ask, worried.

I gasped at my opportunity and bounded for the door, throwing it open and grabbing Gerard's wrist, pulling him in before hastily shutting the door. I leaned against the door, breathing hard and shaking.

“Mikey, what's going on?” Gerard demanded to know.

He looked at me with widened eyes... until he noticed all of the bruises.

“Mikey, who did this to you?!” he yelled, grabbing my shoulders and forcing me to look at him.

Don't tell him! You know what will happen if you do...

“Shut. Up!” I screamed again, shoving Gerard away from me and falling to my knees, covering my ears again with the palms of my sweaty hands.

“Mikey, what's going on? Who hurt you?” Gerard begged to know, kneeling down in front of me and pulling my hands away from my ears.

I was shaking hard as the voice kept screaming, Don't tell him!

“TELL ME , NOW!” Gerard yelled, grabbing my shoulders again.

I winced and tried to get away from him, but it was no use. Gerard kept his grip, but his expression softened from angry to desperate.

“D-derrick...” I whimpered, answering his last question.

“Derrick Watson?”

I nodded quickly, instantly regretting it when a high-pitched wail tore through my head. I screamed in pain and fell back against the wall, covering my ears again and writhing in agony.

YOU STUPID FREAK! HOW DARE YOU GO AGAINST MY WORDS!

“Your words don't matter!” I yelled, clenching my eyes shut as tears streamed down my face.

Don't say that, Michael. You and I both know that you need to be punished now.

“Shut up! You don't control me!” I whined.

I heard another loud screech. Pain ripped through me. It was too much.

I dropped my arms down by my side and collapsed to the ground, silence overtaking me.

“Mikey? MIKEY!” Gerard exclaimed, rushing to my side and gently pulling me up, sitting me against the wall.

I felt extremely light-headed, and I definitely didn't feel like myself. My mind went completely empty and for a moment, I did nothing but enjoy the beautiful silence that followed. I heard nothing, and the pain stopped abruptly. I let out a sigh of relief and relaxed against the cool surface of the wall.

“Mikey...?” Gerard whispered, quickly brushing my hair out of my eyes. “Are you alright?”

That was when I felt a sudden tightness in my chest. I dug my nails into my hands, feeling warm beads of blood trail down my fingers. A quick rush of sharp pain ran through my head again, but this time, I didn't cry out. I didn't scream.

I laughed.

“Yes, I'm alright, Gerard...” I said calmly.

“M-mikey?”

I leaned away from the wall, flashing a smirk at my brother before quickly pouncing him and pinning him down to the floor. He let out a yelp of surprise and looked up at me, gasping at the delirious expression on my face. I couldn't stop smiling as I looked down at him.

“You don't know my pain...” I whispered lightly in his ear.

He shook beneath me as I reached over to my schoolbag, which was against my dresser only a foot away from me. I searched for my pencil case, smiling when my fingers found it. I pulled it out and fished through it for the tool I had been using to release my pain.

“Mikey, what are you doing?” he wailed, trying to get me off of him.

I let out a sad sigh and pulled out the pair of ordinary school scissors, the blades gleaming in the faint light. Gerard's eyes widened as he watched me open the scissors and hold one of the blades against the soft skin on his forearm.

“Mikey, please, don't. You can talk to me about this. Can't we just talk? Please?” he begged me.

I shook my head. Talking wasn't good enough.

“I never told you what happened at school, Gerard. I never told you anything, because I didn't want you to feel my pain. I didn't want you to feel hurt because I was hurt. Understand so far?” I whispered softly, pressing the tip into his flesh.

He winced and clenched his beautiful hazel eyes shut, still shaking. Feeling him shaking made me feel powerful, a feeling I never had before. It felt amazing, to have control for once.

“I said, 'Understand so far?'”

He nodded quickly, too scared to speak. I smirked and quickly brought the blade through his skin. He cried out in pain, and I laughed at his cries.

“I didn't want you to see me hurting. In fact... I still don't want you to see me hurting.”

I brought the scissors up to below his eyes, and whispered softly, “I don't want you to see me cry.”

“Don't! Please, don't... let me help you, Mikey. I'm sorry! I'm sorry that I didn't help you before when you needed me to help you. I'm sorry that I didn't notice your pain sooner. Please, don't hurt me...” he whimpered.

He sounded so weak, so vulnerable. That was what I was like, before I changed. Before I began to think.

I smiled wide at his tears and swiftly swiped the scissors over his eyes. The scream he let out made good shivers crawl up my back. I brought them back across his eyes, cutting deeper this time. He screamed louder, and tried to kick me off of him. I felt his foot connect with my stomach and I struggled to hide a small cry of pain.

“I never wanted to let you see me cry. You always thought that I was a wimp, anyways. I never wanted to cry in front of you...” I whispered extremely quiet.

“I n-never thought you were a wimp...” Gerard struggled to say through his tears.

He lies...

“You're a liar!” I hollered, gripping my weapon tightly and slashing it down into his wrist again.

I was going to make him suffer for this. He didn't bother knowing my pain. He didn't protect me. He didn't make my pain go away. He only added to it. I refused to show mercy on him this time. I was in control. I was the one who would decide his fate that night. No one else but me.

“You're nothing but a liar! You said that you'd always protect me, that you wouldn't let anybody hurt me! Well, I'm hurt, aren't I?! I'm hurt right now, Gee! You know why I'm hurt? Because you didn't protect me! You let me get hurt! YOU added to my pain!” I yelled angrily.

“I swear I'm not lying, Mikey! I'm sorry that I didn't protect you!” Gerard exclaimed, fighting back screams.

“'Sorry' doesn't cut it anymore! You had your chance to apologize a long time ago! But now...” I drifted off as I pressed the blade against his throat, “should I make you suffer more, or should I be your baby angel and end you quickly?”

Just make him suffer, you stupid fuck! Make him suffer. Let him feel your pain!

I nodded quickly and brought the knife away from Gerard's neck. He breathed a little easier, only for his breathing to be replaced by screams of agony and I snapped the scissors together and forced them down into his other wrist, dragging them down to his hand. Blood poured out of his wounds, drenching the carpet and seeping into the fabric of his pajamas.

I leaned back and watched in awe as he writhed in utter agony. I let his screams seep into my mind, playing over and over again like a beautiful melody. I looked at his wrist and a small smile formed on my lips as his blood continuously flowed out of him. His skin was so pale then. Whiter than a ghost.

His movements slowed and his screams soon came to a stop. There he laid, whimpering and crying softly. I leaned down so that my face was close to his.

“Do you feel my pain now, Gerard?” I asked quietly.

Shut up with the questions and just end him! He's despicable.

I sighed and pressed the scissors against his throat again, my hand shaking slightly. Not from the fear of killing him, but from nervousness. What if someone found out that I had done it? What if they killed me for killing my brother?

These questions swam around in my head, making me feel dizzy.

Just kill him already, you pitiful fuck!

“Stop telling me what to do!” I screamed.

And, with that, I brought the scissors up to my own throat, getting off of my bleeding brother and standing against the wall, taking a deep breath and slicing through my flesh without any hesitation.

I collapsed to the ground and brought the scissors deep into my stomach as I fell. I didn't bother screaming as pain took over me before my vision went white, and my body went limp.