First Contest Submission
[Title] How Pathetic
[Rating] PG-13
[Pairings/Characters] A, and B
[Warnings] Death, and uh... V-vomit?
[Notes] Uh, ah.... -crawls into emo hole-
[Rating] PG-13
[Pairings/Characters] A, and B
[Warnings] Death, and uh... V-vomit?
[Notes] Uh, ah.... -crawls into emo hole-
He was pathetic. Such a failure! How, how could he have fallen this far? How could he have disappointed the man he looked up to? Alternate knew that he wouldn't be able to succeed L. He was a loser. A loser could never be something as great as L! He had been feeling like this for a while. Very few people had noticed though. Why should they? They were all rivals, to worry about the number one, the one that they want to take down. That would be just stupid.
'Please, it's just because it's you. A, they don't care about you. If it were anyone else....' He was so sick of that voice. The one in the back of his head. Taunting him. The one thing that seemed to bother the boy the most about this voice was, the eerie resemblance it held to B's.
Backup. He won, that disgusting boy. The fact that it was his voice that A was hearing, proved that he had one. A wondered vaguely if B was somewhere, fully aware of what was happening at that moment. If he was as smug as the voice in his head. Ha! Of course he wasn't. That was just the stress talking, the anxiety. For the younger boy to be doing that, he'd have to know when Alternate was to die. And that was impossible! What a silly thought.
Once the few pills started to take effect, he began to regain the nerve that was wavering. That's how he planned it, he knew he'd lose his nerve. Take a couple of Xanax's, let them cloud his mind, take the rest. As he began to take the rest in a gulp, much like how he'd witnessed in a couple of movies that he'd seen. He wasn't much for movies, but sometimes Wammy's house felt the need to let them feel... Normal. As if they were normal.
Gagging and choking. It looked much easier in the movies. After the choking, which brought A to wonder why he didn't just let that kill him, he wondered where those pills had been. He had stolen them from another student, a good friend of his. Such a friendly guy, even if he was probably high every time they hung out. 'That's because he really can't stand you.' Stupid voice. Stupid B. He glared at air as if the strawberry loving teen were there.
Though the way the room was dulled down, and began pulsating, the boy could have been. With A being none the wiser. Why did he get the feeling that B would enjoy this though? The sight of A so distraught and unaware. With a staggering backwards step the blond was on his bum on the floor. Pathetic. He was truly pathetic.
Tears began pouring out of his eyes. Useless, it was a good thing that he was going to die! He was only holding L down, giving the detective a bad name. If he were to succeed the man, he'd tarnish the name. The name of gorgeous L, that bold letter! He puked. Having felt it come on, he tried to move, to get to the restroom. Only to wind up on his hands and knees with putrid substances coming from his mouth. Alternate was splattered with the sickening liquid, it spread to where it stuck on his hands which were clenched fists. Staining his pretty white shirt. How pathetic.
The pills were kicking in high gear by now. He sat back, looking at the vomit, some dribbling down his chin. How interesting. He watched as it swirled, in an almost pretty fashion. Ignoring the fact that it had just been in his stomach that it was stomach acid mixed with last nights dinner, steak with green beans and corn. To anyone else, this mixture would be disgusting, an awful color and texture. To A in his state of delirium, it was beautiful.
Another wave of nausea hit, and he fell over. Landing in the pile, coughing up more vomit. His glasses were cracked from his face hitting the floor. Pathetic. 'Henh henh henh. Look at you A, so pitiful. Stewing in your own stomach acid. I can see the look on L's face now when you're found like this.' God... He hadn't thought of that. The last image of him that his mentor would ever see is him laying face down on the floor in puke. Great.
Not much thought was given to this fact though. He was tired, and sleep seemed so wonderous. He wouldn't be a burden anymore at least. That was comforting. Maybe B could do a better job at being L anyways. If he was allowed to become the detective that is. Atlernates eyes began to droop. For some reason, he didn't think death would be this peaceful. It, it was kind of nice... No one would miss him... He was a failure... How pathetic.
Dark eyes closed when the clock hit; six thirty PM and forty-nine seconds. A, was dead. B knew this as he lay there, reclined in bed. He vaguely wondered how A did it, how he killed himself. Not that it mattered in the end. The boy was dead, which left the number one spot up for grabs. By the number two of course. Though, he felt bad. Only slightly so. He was going to miss teasing A, and taunting him. But no one can stop the numbers, and if they could, it'd have been troublesome for B. "Well A, it was fun while it lasted."
'Please, it's just because it's you. A, they don't care about you. If it were anyone else....' He was so sick of that voice. The one in the back of his head. Taunting him. The one thing that seemed to bother the boy the most about this voice was, the eerie resemblance it held to B's.
Backup. He won, that disgusting boy. The fact that it was his voice that A was hearing, proved that he had one. A wondered vaguely if B was somewhere, fully aware of what was happening at that moment. If he was as smug as the voice in his head. Ha! Of course he wasn't. That was just the stress talking, the anxiety. For the younger boy to be doing that, he'd have to know when Alternate was to die. And that was impossible! What a silly thought.
Once the few pills started to take effect, he began to regain the nerve that was wavering. That's how he planned it, he knew he'd lose his nerve. Take a couple of Xanax's, let them cloud his mind, take the rest. As he began to take the rest in a gulp, much like how he'd witnessed in a couple of movies that he'd seen. He wasn't much for movies, but sometimes Wammy's house felt the need to let them feel... Normal. As if they were normal.
Gagging and choking. It looked much easier in the movies. After the choking, which brought A to wonder why he didn't just let that kill him, he wondered where those pills had been. He had stolen them from another student, a good friend of his. Such a friendly guy, even if he was probably high every time they hung out. 'That's because he really can't stand you.' Stupid voice. Stupid B. He glared at air as if the strawberry loving teen were there.
Though the way the room was dulled down, and began pulsating, the boy could have been. With A being none the wiser. Why did he get the feeling that B would enjoy this though? The sight of A so distraught and unaware. With a staggering backwards step the blond was on his bum on the floor. Pathetic. He was truly pathetic.
Tears began pouring out of his eyes. Useless, it was a good thing that he was going to die! He was only holding L down, giving the detective a bad name. If he were to succeed the man, he'd tarnish the name. The name of gorgeous L, that bold letter! He puked. Having felt it come on, he tried to move, to get to the restroom. Only to wind up on his hands and knees with putrid substances coming from his mouth. Alternate was splattered with the sickening liquid, it spread to where it stuck on his hands which were clenched fists. Staining his pretty white shirt. How pathetic.
The pills were kicking in high gear by now. He sat back, looking at the vomit, some dribbling down his chin. How interesting. He watched as it swirled, in an almost pretty fashion. Ignoring the fact that it had just been in his stomach that it was stomach acid mixed with last nights dinner, steak with green beans and corn. To anyone else, this mixture would be disgusting, an awful color and texture. To A in his state of delirium, it was beautiful.
Another wave of nausea hit, and he fell over. Landing in the pile, coughing up more vomit. His glasses were cracked from his face hitting the floor. Pathetic. 'Henh henh henh. Look at you A, so pitiful. Stewing in your own stomach acid. I can see the look on L's face now when you're found like this.' God... He hadn't thought of that. The last image of him that his mentor would ever see is him laying face down on the floor in puke. Great.
Not much thought was given to this fact though. He was tired, and sleep seemed so wonderous. He wouldn't be a burden anymore at least. That was comforting. Maybe B could do a better job at being L anyways. If he was allowed to become the detective that is. Atlernates eyes began to droop. For some reason, he didn't think death would be this peaceful. It, it was kind of nice... No one would miss him... He was a failure... How pathetic.
Dark eyes closed when the clock hit; six thirty PM and forty-nine seconds. A, was dead. B knew this as he lay there, reclined in bed. He vaguely wondered how A did it, how he killed himself. Not that it mattered in the end. The boy was dead, which left the number one spot up for grabs. By the number two of course. Though, he felt bad. Only slightly so. He was going to miss teasing A, and taunting him. But no one can stop the numbers, and if they could, it'd have been troublesome for B. "Well A, it was fun while it lasted."
