LPfiction

Category Linkin Park

Somewhere I Belong by xx lithium glitter

I Wanna Heal

Disclaimer: dont own chester, dont own linkin park, dont own anyone in here that youve heard of. if theres a character that you haven't heard of- i own it


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"Hes been in there ALL WEEK!" Iheard the 3rd voice shout outside the door


"Hes just going through a phase or something" the 2nd one negotiated


"Well I dont care- I'm getting him out right now" said the 1st, followed by a light knock on the door. What the hell do they want from me now?


"What?" Isaid weakly.

"Can I come in? Or preferrabley can you come out?" he asked. It was Rob. I groaned and got up off the bed and opened the door. He looked at me with a half smile half frown look. Mike and Phoenix stood behind him staring at the floor.

"What do you want?" I asked.


"For you to be normal and come out of your room like normal human beings"


"Normal is what you make it"


"And youre making normal boring"


"Fuck off"


I shut the door before the first hot tear could stream down my cheek. I sat in my chair and studied my room. I had dark red walls and a black ceiling. All chrome furniture. Nothing on the walls except for a few pictures of the band and the platnium records. My bed was a simple chrome frame with black sheets and a red and purple comforter that my best friend Rylan had made for me in 12th grade. My bed hadn't been made in about a week. I had spent most of my time crying in my bed with Taco Bell, lisening to Nine Inch Nails or watching Law and Order re-runs. My life was like a mystery. I personally didn't think it would, or could ever be solved. If I was gonna stick myself in here I might as well clean it up. I started picking up all the diry clothes. There weren't many of them, considering all I had worn for the past 5 days was a pair of plaid pajama pants and a black wife beater, sometimes putting on a hoodie when it got cold. The only dirty things were underwear and socks. I picked up a dirty sock and heard a clank. I looked down.


There it lay, blood soaked and shiney. Just the sight of it made me jump in anticipation and murk with fear at the same time. The excitement of wondering if youre cutting too deep, are you going to die this time? It always scared me that a razorblade could make all the difference in my day. I didn't like myself when I did it- hell I never liked myself. I didn't to continue cutting though, I really didn't. I just couldn't help it- it was the only thing that made me feel alive...real... I just wanted to get better.


I just want to heal.

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