About
Community
Bad Ideas
Drugs
Ego
Artistic Endeavors
But Can You Dance to It?
Cult of the Dead Cow
Literary Genius
Making Money
No Laughing Matter
On-Line 'Zines
Science Fiction
Self-Improvement
Erotica
Fringe
Society
Technology
register | bbs | search | rss | faq | about
meet up | add to del.icio.us | digg it

Cold Rain

by Metal_Demon

Paul sat in the darkened room and listened as the rain assaulted the streets outside. He felt a feeling of isolation from the world, like he was the only one awake in this cold and forbidding city, like the only person alive.

Outside, the streets were dark and empty, save for a stationary shadow that seemed to obscure all things, even the rain that fell. All was quiet, save for the sound of the rain, and the light wind.

Paul rolled over in the warm bed and looked at Amelia. Her face was as pale as a winter stream, her hair, raven, was partly over her beautiful face, and her chest rose and fell with her sweet breathing. Her spiked choker gleamed in the moonlight coming in from the window, like a diamond in the middle of a land of desolation. On her face was beautiful and elaborate eyeliner, breaking off in beautiful and elaborate designs, which reminded Paul of calm streams running from a river. On her chest were two perfect breasts, pale as the moon, with a rich red nipple on each, like a cherry.

Amelia was all that Paul cared about in this desolate hellhole of a world, and he would give his life for her, and nobody else, not even himself. She was all that he had, and she kept him alive, but Paul was beginning to think that maybe he would be better off leaving this world, but he looked at Amelia again and quenched the thought for the meantime.

Paul got up and quietly walked across the floor to the bathroom, and turned on the light, then looked into the mirror above the sink. He ran his fingers downwards through his medium length black hair, and then inspected his face. Paul always thought his face to be one of his weak points, and in his mind at that moment, he suspected Amelia did too. It was just…off for some reason. His eyebrow piercing shone in the dim light of the bathroom as thoughts ran wild across his mind, like a thousand raging horsemen with swords drawn.

It was about 2 months ago when Paul first started to get the “Feelings”. With these always came incredible bouts of misanthropy, which in turn caused Paul to go into panic, much like a caged animal that realizes many eyes are upon them. Paul tended to get these “feelings” when he was around society too long, such as when he was in a shopping mall, or sometimes just walking down a crowded street would trigger them. During these attacks, his eyes lowered and darkened, and he became incredibly violent to everybody around him, with the exception of Amelia. She was his sanctuary; her arms were the only place he could go during the attacks. She was the only one that understood, the only one that cared, and he loved her in ways that could not even be described by words.

Paul then decided that tonight was it, and as soon as his mind graced this decision, his eyes filled with tears and he lowered his head. “She would not understand” he thought, as cold tears slowly ran down his cheeks. Paul raised his head and slowly walked to the door of the bathroom and looked back at the bed, where her beautiful body lay, breathing slowly and sweetly. At this sight he collapsed to the floor and thought to himself “I can’t, I can’t leave her”.

But the other side of his mind seemed to think differently. He got a barrage of thoughts that all seemed to say “yes you can, leave this world, it hates you”. The tears were coming faster now, and they spilled onto the floor and formed small salty pools.

The only reason Paul was still alive was Amelia, and the only reason Amelia was alive was Paul. Amelia had come from a heavily abusive family, and when she met Paul, the abuse was at its worst. Many nights she would phone him at two in the morning crying, and he would meet her at a quiet little park near her house, and hold her shaking and bleeding body until she stopped crying, then he would look into her beautiful brown eyes and tell her he loved her more than anything else. He kept her from suicide the next two years until she moved out and rented an apartment with her friend Elise. Paul got an apartment downtown, on the other side of downtown from hers, but still a distance small enough to walk and that was where they were right now. They had grown much closer in the last year, and he thought she was perfect in every way, but now he was going to leave her.

He choked back his tears; he had made his decision. Paul could stand society no longer, and he wished only to leave it. He already knew his tool for parting this world; 450 cc’s of heroin. It was quite expensive, but it was there for one purpose; a way out. He reached to the shelf above the cold mirror and took down a small grey box. As he did this, thunder rolled in the distance, and the rain started to come down harder. He smoothly lifted the lid of the box and exposed a large syringe and 450 cc’s of heroin in a glass vial. The glass was cold to the touch and streaked with mist. Paul took the syringe out and raised the plunger, and was overcome by a feeling of ecstasy, as he knew it would end here, that this was the final page of his story. He plunged the needle into the soft rubber lining on top of the glass vial, and drew out his death until the syringe was gaping full, then squirted some heroin out to eliminate any air bubbles. He then placed the syringe down on the edge of the sink and placed the vial back in the grey box, then placed the lid back on and replaced it on the shelf above the mirror. Paul then picked up the syringe and slowly plunged the contents into his arm.

Paul turned off the light in the bathroom and walked across the room and crawled into the bed as the rain got harder outside. He rolled over and gently outstretched his hand and stroked Amelia’s face. He lightly ran the back of his index finger across her perfect lips, lined with black lipstick, and a single tear ran down his cheek. She opened her glassy brown eyes and smiled as he stroked her face again, his eyes looking into hers.

“I love you more than the world itself” said Paul as he looked deep into her eyes. He then leaned over and slowly kissed her forehead, and her hands came up and closed around his. She has such small and delicate hands, and they were so soft. He moved until his body pressed up against hers, and she let go of his hands, brought her arms up around his body, and buried her face between his head and his chest. He then wrapped his arms around her, and held her close and tight. Tears streamed down his face now, but it did not matter anymore. Nothing else mattered. Paul felt his life beginning to leave this world on seas of azure glass beneath a calm sun, and he fell into shadow.

Outside, the rain trickled to a stop soon after Paul had died, and the clouds parted to allow room for the bright gleaming sun that would arise the next morning and give hope to one less soul.

 
To the best of our knowledge, the text on this page may be freely reproduced and distributed.
If you have any questions about this, please check out our Copyright Policy.

 

totse.com certificate signatures
 
 
About | Advertise | Bad Ideas | Community | Contact Us | Copyright Policy | Drugs | Ego | Erotica
FAQ | Fringe | Link to totse.com | Search | Society | Submissions | Technology
Hot Topics
Neutral English Accent
ah le francais...
Most amount of languages someone can learn
what language do you like to hear?
On a certain annoyance of speaking English..
GPP is bad grammar
Les Verbes Rares Francais! Aidez-moi!
Words that piss you Off
 
Sponsored Links
 
Ads presented by the
AdBrite Ad Network

 

TSHIRT HELL T-SHIRTS