And what about those people who choose self mutilation instead of murder rampage? Do they assume that whatever stress has come upon them is completely their fault and that they deserve the pain, or is the stress just to much but they can’t stand to die? Those who choose to go through with suicide, the ending of their lives. Why do they do it? Are they crazy? Do they feel they’ve done something to deserve this death? Or once again, is it the stress of living?

How do other people deal with the stress of living? Those that society considers normal, what do they do when they feel they can no longer take it, is a good cry all they need, or do they secretly wish for their own death or that of someone else? They obviously get over it somehow, but how is it that these people can handle is and the rest can’t? Is it all in your mind, or possibly something in your childhood that causes this? With all of this in mind, what do you do to cope? Murder someone, or do you choose to hurt yourself? Maybe your one of the lucky few that knows how to get through this, if you are…I’m happy for you. But Jacob isn’t, he never has been.

Jacob lay on his bed listening to a punk band that called themselves homegrown, it was still a week till school would start and he was becoming rather bored with all the free time. Nearly one o’clock he realized, during the summer days Jacob became mostly nocturnal, living out the majority of his existence in the night and early morning. He wished his mother would let him back out of the house; a twelve o’clock curfew was ridiculous for a sixteen year old. In his mind, as in the mind of many teens, there was no need for a curfew at all. Jacob starred up at the ceiling or more the void where the ceiling should have been. Smoke machines in the middle of the ceiling made it impossible to see, as well as making the four corner speakers indistinguishable. The walls and ceiling of his room where black with various band posters littering them. This room was the dream of most teens, though few achieved it. Jacob heard a light knock on the door and sat up.
“It’s unlocked...”
Catherine Rhodes, his mother, entered the room a bit shaken by the interior.
“Hey son, can we talk for a minute?”
He nodded slightly confused at his mother’s intentions. She looked to the ground a moment, as if whatever she needed to say wasn’t something she actually wanted to.
“The hospital transferred me to Haven, New York. I have to report there in three days.”
“WHAT!? Mother you can’t actually be considering this. There could be another job offering somewhere else. Somewhere close.”
He shouted a bit before he got control of himself, but she’d caught him completely off guard.
“We’re going, end of story. I have no choice Jacob; if they say go I have to. Tomorrow morning it might be best if you spoke with Allyson.” She gave him one last sad look before standing and leaving, the door slid into place behind her.
Jacob dropped backward, his emotions a complete mess. He wasn’t sure when he’d fallen asleep, only that the next morning he awoke again to the blaring of an alarm clock. Jacob stood sleepily and quickly remembered last night’s accounts. He flew down the stairs paying no mind to his appearance. He only grabbed his keys and black leather jacket before storming out the front door.

Jacob pulled up in front of Allyson’s one story home. The house was a cream color decorated with dark green awning and shutters, flowers surrounded the walkway. This of course done by Ally’s mother who had, like most women, a love for gardening. The trees and shrubs that made the lawn beautiful were probably trimmed by Mr. Meadows. As Jacobs took in the surrounding of a house where he had come to almost live in his thoughts clouded. Light rock music filled the car as he flipped on the radio; he thought maybe the music would help him get his thoughts together. He was afraid of what was about to happen. For a guy who had never been afraid of anything in his entire life, it felt weird. He wasn’t sure what was going to happen, he had no control over the situation and that in itself was another pain to deal with. I wonder if we could do a long distance relationship like that, does she really love me that much. I can’t make her wait for me that way; the distance will be too much for the both of us. Those were his thoughts as he stepped out of the car and shut the door behind him. Walking up the sidewalk, which leads to the front door, he had no idea what he was going to say to her. He could make something up; tell her he was going on vacation. Then when they got moved he could run away and come be with her. No, not a chance he would even think about lying to her even if it meant he was going to lose her. Jacob sighed, what was he to do? Being pulled away from all he knew with out his consent, forced to leave the one person he’d ever actually loved behind. He stood on the porch a moment before he knocked lightly on the door.

Jade Meadows, Allyson’s mother answered the door with a smile, she’d always liked Jacob. She was like a second mother to him, he couldn’t walk in their house without being offered food and some type of activity the family had planned.

“Hello, Ally’s in her room, would you like breakfast Jake? You look like you haven’t eaten in days.” He politely refused and removed his shoes.

He gave her mother one last smile before he headed down the hallway to the very last door on the left. He could hear her singing along with the punk music that was so loud he’d heard it in the living room and smiled before knocking on the heavy oak door. The door opened slowly and Allyson appeared in the door way. Her light brown hair was pulled back in a pony tail and her blue eyes held the look of happiness. She wore a white wife beater and slightly baggy blue windbreaker pants. The second Ally saw Jacob standing there she smiled ,throwing her arms around his neck and pulling him to a hug before pulling back to softly kiss his lips. His arms out of habit slid softly around her waist holding her.
“Hey baby.” She grinned.
“Hey.” Despite his happiness in seeing her voice sounded horribly depressed.
“Jake…what’s wrong?”
“We...we need to talk.”
He looked down at the ground. Ally nodded taking his arm and pulling him gently into the room. She walked him over to the bed and pushed him down on the corner as she knelt in front of him.
“Jake, whatever it is we can work through it…together. Nothing can separate us, nothing will ever happen that will tear us apart. I love you.”
He looked up and gave her a half smile.
“I was hoping you say that. My mother is making me move with her to New Haven.”
“Jacob… you can’t go that’s hundreds of miles from here.” A single teardrop ran down her cheek. “I know, but I have no choice. Her job is making her transfer.” She nodded.
“I can’t do our relationship long distance Jake.” Her tears were now multiplying and leaving red streaks down her face. Jacob nodded standing up. “It’s probably better. This is goodbye then?”
He tried to hold back his emotions, which were right now a mixture of sadness and anger. She closed her eyes and sat in the floor with her knees to her chest crying.
“Just go Jake...”
Jacob sighed before disappearing out the door and back down the hallway.
“That was a rather quick visit.” Jade’s voice sounded worried for her daughter.
“Yeah.”
That was all he could manage, he slipped on his shoes and walked outside to his car. Leaning against the car her looked up at the sky, why was this happening? He’d never wanted to move, it was all his mothers’ idea, and how he hated her for it. Hated her for pulling him away from the one woman he’d come to love with all of his heart. Love her realized, he really did love her, and she him. She had never said I love you before tonight, the emotion had always been there, but never spoken aloud. Jacob got in the ice green mustang and began the short drive home as he tried to hold back the tears.

Jacob’s mustang pulled up to the two story brick home, as he got out he furiously slammed the door causing the shocks to bounce with the force of the door. Walking up to the front door he opened it slowly as not to arouse his mother, the last thing he needed was her in his face. He didn’t have to wake her he quickly noticed for he was standing in the doorway with a smile, which soon faded.
“Things not go so good?”
His only response was an icy cold glare. He slammed the door that had remained opened during the short but angry conversation. Jacob disappeared leaving his mother stand there alone, before she could even tell him goodnight. Once to the top of the stairs he hung a left and slid back a door that was hiding in the shadows, and entered the darkened room behind it. After sliding the door back in place he dropped backward onto the bed, his hand searched the bed until it closed on a black remote. He then hit a button in the top corner and the small room flooded with low rock music. He sighed, just losing his only love was never a good way to start off one’s week. Who should he be mad at though, he really couldn’t blame his mother, she had no choice but to follow her job.

The door jostled slightly before a light rapping was heard.
“The door’s locked for a reason, Thanks.” Jacob said calmly before sighing.
“Son, open the door this instant.”
“Go away.”
The rock music while still light in genre went up in volume. His mother shouted something over the music once more, but he wasn’t quite sure what it was. After a few moments he heard the relieving sound of someone going down the stairs. The volume of the music sunk once more, he wasn’t one for loud music, but whatever was necessary to get rid of his loud-mouthed mother was fine with him. He yawned staring up at the black ceiling. Tomorrow they would move, he was none to happy about this, being forced to give up everything he knew and had bother to care for. But what was he to do about it; he was only but a child. Jacob stood looking around at the boxes his mother must have sat there. He calmly packed his things without a real care; his true emotions were to stay bottled up inside. The packing went quickly and he forced himself to lie down. He then closed his eyes, letting the thought fade and his body began to relax before he sunk into a dreamless oblivion.

The next morning he awoke to the obnoxious shattering sound of his alarm clock. He sat up looking around the room; he was no longer on his bed, but on an air mattress in the floor. The boxes he’d packed last night were gone, along with the rest of the contents of the room. Mom must have gotten them, but how did she do all of this without waking me up, not to mention the locked door. He stood up stripping down to his boxer shorts; he bent down picking up the clothes and taking them with him. He stepped outside his room and threw the dirty clothing into a box that had been left opened. On his way to the bathroom he stopped and got some fresh clothing. Once inside the bathroom he stripped the rest of the way before stepping into an icy shower. He quickly washed all over including his hair and then ended the shower. He dried off and began to get dressed. As soon as he was fully dressed he headed downstairs to find breakfast. He ended up in the kitchen, but soon realized they’d already packed the food.
“Sleep well?” His mother stood behind him, her voice cheery.
“I suppose so.” His voice was cold and terribly unfriendly.
She sighed hugging him.
“We had to get out of this miserable little house sometime, better soon that later.”
Jacob shrugged as he headed out thought the living room and got in the jet black bronco that waited him.

Jacob awoke as his mother pulled in the drive way of the new home. He sat up with a yawn and began to stretch out his various muscles that had cramped during the sleep in the car. He got out of the passenger side door and looked about the yard. The house was two stories as the other one had been, it was also brick.
“You’re not going to find too many differences here on the outside, however there are a few on the inside.” His mother spoke lightly.
“I suppose not… I get to paint my room before we move my stuff in right?”
His mother nodded although black wasn’t her choice of colors, she’d allow it anyway. Mostly because she didn’t want him to hate her anymore than her already did, she’d caused enough damage with the move she need not cause him to hate her enough to wish for her death. Jacob nodded and looked up at the house; he approached it and unlocked the front door with the key his mother had given him before they’d left. He walked upstairs to the room his mother had told him about. It was in the back of the hallway as his other one had been. Upon entering the room Jacob frowned at its white color, but grinned at the black paint that sat in the floor. He bent down in front of the paint and opened a can. Oil? It could be, it’s the right color anyway. A roller lay beside a paint tray and he picked it up smiling as he began to paint the new room.

Jacob lay on the hard wooden floor looking up at the ceiling which was now black, along with the walls and doors. He’d had a painting frenzy it seemed. Jacob looked at peace almost. A low tapping on the door resounded through the room. “Come in.”
Normally he didn’t want people in his room, but what the hell, he was happy for the moment. His mother entered the room slowly, unused to this kindness and privilege.
“Your carpets here, did you paint the back of the door too?”
“Yeah not to mention the closet door, and the inside of the closet, there was too much white in this room.”
“Alright then, if that’s what you like I guess its okay.” His mother sounded a bit disappointed.
After she left, Jacob picked himself up out of the floor and proceeded to move the paint and things to the garage. Jacob returned from the garage to find his room empty, yet it now had black carpeting. He walked back down the stairs and began carrying all of the boxes he’d packed only a short day before, back up to his room. Unpacking wouldn’t be fun, but it was something he had to do. Jacob began by setting up his computer desk in the back corner, which made him kind of an office or cubicle type thing. He them set up the rest of his things. He looked around, everything in his room was black with the exception of part of his stereo and a few other little things. He clicked the crimson lava lamp on to let it warm up. He yawned and looked at the time, realizing it was late he laid down upon his bed, tomorrow he would have to deal with all the perks a new school brought. The big mouthed teachers and math, he hated math so much, only because he’d never been very good at it. He drifted between a deep slumber and a dreamlike state all night long.

The screaming of a blistering headache awoke Jacob moments before his alarm clock was set to go off, he sat up and stretched. Six o’clock, what an ungodly hour to start school. He sighed and stood slowly before heading to his dresser drawer to grab some clothing. Jacob carried the clothes to the bathroom and sat them on top of a hamper which sat right in front of the door. The shower knob was turned into its on position and burning water ran from the shower head to the bathroom floor below. He pulled himself away from the tub and stripped down, his reflection caught in a shoulder length mirror and he flashed a killer smile. Jacob climbed in the shower and sighed as the hot water fell down his back.

Jacob emerged from the shower and began to dry off, once dry he wrapped the towel around his waist and stepped up to the sink. He pulled a bottle of gel from the medicine cabinet behind the mirror. The gel was cool against his hand; he lightly rubbed his hands together and then ran his hands vigorously through his hair, spiking it up. Once done with his hair he slid his shirt on careful of the spikes. Jacob finished getting dressed, all black to match his mood. He appeared in the hallway and made his way down the stairs toward the kitchen to find breakfast. He entered the kitchen; his eyes automatically fell to a knife that was lying on the counter. The real reason it had caught his attention was because the sunlight has reflected off of the blade and back into his eyes. But now, Jacob saw, the edge had a new gleam.

He walked across the kitchen and slowly picked up the knife. He pressed the blade lightly against his flesh, felling the chill of its sharpened edge. Jacob pressed the blade deeper and pulled it across his skin, deep red blood dropped to the floor with at low noise. He sunk down to the floor and sat with his back to the wall. Jacob thought for a moment before going to work cutting a design into his arm, each cut he made, even the first became an important line in his art work. He worked on the design for around four hours; the cuts were all shallow so he’d yet to pass out. When Jacob finished there was a strand of ivy wrapping down his forearm and around his wrist. He was feeling a little dizzy and his jeans were now soaked with thick crimson liquid. His left arm was completely numb so he reach up with his other arm and pulled himself to a standing position beside the counter. Jacob picked up and towel and wrapped it around his arm in a weak attempt to stop the blow flow.

He walked through the dinning room and into the bathroom, about falling into several walls. The towel fell to the ground and Jacob held his arm over the sink, with his other hand he picked up a bottle of hydrogen peroxide, he then sat the bottle on the sink. Cold water rushed out into the sink filling it up about one fourth of the way. Jacob picked up the towel and ripped it in half. He dipped the towel in the water and wiped the blood away from the cuts, he tossed his home made rag in the trash. Jacob struggled with the lid on the bottle for a moment before it opened. He poured the water looking liquid over his master piece. Jacob’s scream pierced the morning silence, he hadn’t expected the burning. The peroxide dripped off his fingertips after running over the cuts and burning out the infection. He wiped his arm off and waited a moment to make sure the bleeding had stopped. Jacob walked from the bathroom and up the stairs to his room. He then changed from the short sleeve shirt to a longer sleeved one.

When his mother returned from work around five, she found Jacob lounging calmly on the stairs. Blink182 blasted from his CD player so loud that he couldn’t hear his mom standing at the bottom of the stairs yelling at him. Finally when she had no luck with the screaming she ascended the stairs and gently tapped on his shoulder. The music faded suddenly and he looked up to his mother.
“How was your first day at the new place?”
New place, oh she means the school. Uh…well…
Jacob just nodded in response. His mother smiled and headed up the stairs past him and to her bed room. He stood and followed her, stopping outside her door momentarily before he continues down the hallway to the black door which marked his room. Jacob pulled a key, which had been spray painted red, from his pocket. He slid the key into the lock and turned it to the left, a satisfying click resounded off his ear drums. He pulled the key from the lock and slipped it back into his pocket, he then slid the door back out of the way. Jacob entered the room which was dimly lit with the light from the hallway. Turning around he shout the door behind him.

The room was now pitch black, though he had no trouble crossing it to get to a crimson lava lamp, which he clicked on. Jacob walked to the wall where there was a group of light switched, he flipped all of them at once and three things happened. First his stereo, which sat beside the light switched, lit up with power, next a set of strobe lights flashed on and began to flicker. Last a set of smoke machines, lost somewhere in the ceiling pumping out gallons of smoke. Jacob picked up the black remote off the top of the stereo. He sprawled out on his bed with a yawn, he knew he had better sleep well for he had school tomorrow.. Punk music flooded the room as Jacob slipped soundly into sleep.

Another day, another school, another counselor, isn’t that just great? Jacob sighed as he walked down the hallway a bell resounded through the school building, and Jacob paid it no mind. He could use being new to his advantage, at least for a little while anyway. Upon entering the classroom Jacob was greeted with a friendly smile which he did not return.
“You must be new.” The teacher sounded way more excited than was actually necessary
. With a simple shrug he walked to a seat in the back corner of the room and sat down.
“Why don’t we go around the room and introduce ourselves to the newcomer?” The teacher smiled at Jacob.
“I find that quite unnecessary.” Jacob spoke rather calmly.
“Alright then.” The teacher seemed a bit disappointed but went on with class anyway.

One of the girls in front of him turned around.
“Do you have a girlfriend where you come from?”
Jacob’s mind drifted back to Allyson, he winced without actually noticing. How he missed her. He looked to the girl and glared momentarily.
“No, I don’t. Might I inquire as to why you care?”
She blushed, but refused to answer, then turned around. Jacob tuned the teacher out and allowed his mind to wander back to Allyson and all the time they’d spent together. He sighed, she’d left him for someone who’d always be around, and it killed him inside. Jacob came back to reality as the teacher began to pass out schedules to those students who didn’t already have them. She laid his on his desk just as the bell rang. His first day at the school and he already had an appointment with Mrs. Stone, the guidance counselor, what fun.

Jacob stepped out into the crowed hallway looking around. Crimson colored lockers lined the hallway. Students rushed to them and jerked them open, some not even bothering with the combination. He began heading to the stairs, making his way through the various bodies of unimportant high schoolers. He reach the stairs as the bell rang, there were no students in the hallways except the occasional latecomers and those who choose to skip class and smoke. Jacob walked calmly down the stairs with a yawn. He made a right and started the short walk to the end of the hall. He examined the hallway as he walked; white walls with a deep red trim, the floor was black tiled. He couldn’t say he didn’t like the paint job, although the white could have been a dark gray, yes that would be much better.

Entering the office he began to take inventory on its interior. The carpet texture was rather rough, but the colors where fine, they were a mix of crimson, black, and gray. The ceiling was tiled with the same material used to make corkboards, and there were various pictures hanging about.
“Mr. Rhodes I presume?” He looked to the source of the voice.
“An annoying jackass who has all the answers I presume?” He slightly rolled his eyes.
“Why don’t we talk in my office?” She smiled, ignoring his sarcasm.
“How about… not?”
“You have to speak with me, your parents requested it.” She was getting frustrated.
“For starters, I don’t have to do anything, and second my parents are incompetent morons who have no clue what they are talking about.” Jacob turned and walked from the office and out into the hallway.
“Jacob,” He heard Mrs. Stone call.
He turned toward her.
“My office, now!”
He shrugged, pushing past her back into the main office and then into hers.

He threw himself into a padded chair.
“Much better.” She smiled. “Let’s get started, shall we?”
“It’d be nice if you wouldn’t ask such stupid questions.” He sighed.
“Fine, now… everything you say is between us. Except for two things that is; One if you’re going to hurt someone else, and two if you’re going to hurt yourself. So what do you want to talk about?”
“Whatever you want to say, say it so I can leave.” His eyes narrowed.
“Well, from what I understand you’re a very depressed individual. Not to mention you feel...”
He cut her off.
“Like I’m living in a total and complete Hell? I know that already.”
“Yes, well, I’d like to know what you plan on doing about it.”
He grinned lustfully.
“Do you happen to have a sharp pair of scissors on you?”
She sighed.
“I need to call your parents Jacob.”
“So all that trust stuff was bullshit?”
“I said if you were going to hurt yourself, I had to call.”

He jumped up from the chair, enraged.
“Fine, call them!”
He picked up the phone.
“Here, I’ll even dial the number for you, but you understand this right now, calling my parents destroys any chance what so ever that I’ll come talk to you again. I’ll just let the razor slide and get it over with.”
With all that said he threw the receiver down, and walked out the door slamming it behind him. He left the office and walked down the hall. He slammed through the door to the parking lot. The sleek green mustang sat right where he had left it. He’d just gotten into the car when Mrs. Stone came out of the school. He forced the car into reverse and slid around a backward turn. The tires squalled as he sped out of the parking lot.

Not even ten minutes later he pulled into the driveway of his two story brick home. He got out of the mustang shutting the door behind him forcefully. He walked up to the front door, and was amazed to find it unlocked. He walked in and heard his mother talking to someone on the phone in the kitchen. Jacob walked toward the sound of her voice curiously, he heard her say,
“Yes he just walked in. Yes, I’ll talk to him about it. I know I’m worried too.”
The soft click of her setting the phone down on its receiver was the next thing he heard before she spoke.
“That was Mrs. Stone, the guidance counselor at your school; she informed me you just drove off school grounds.”
“Grounded?” He sounded not the least bit surprised that she’d called even after his threat.
“Beyond grounded mister.”
“Yay, I’m just so excited.” He rolled his eyes and turned away from her.
Jacob disappeared down the hallway and into his room; he locked the door behind him. Walking over to the lava lamp which sat on an end table next to his bed, he calmly clicked it on; from there he walked over to a table and sat down.

He picked up the razor blade from the table in front of him and contemplated it for a moment. His mind drifted back to the past, where he’d thought drugs were the only way to help with his problems. He’d been dependent on every kind of drug to take him to… “a better place.” They’d done just as he hoped with the slight exception that he had not been expecting all of the “wonderful” health problems that came along with the happiness. He shook his head pulling himself from the horrible past he now had to live with, or did he? He once again let his deep sky blue eyes drift to the razor blade he now held gently between two fingers. He loaded the blade back into the plastic, with the same careful actions he’d used to remove it. Sitting the case back on the table, he glared at the tiny puddle of thick crimson blood that had formed before when he’d sliced his finger open trying to remove the blade from the casing which held it.

He flipped off the deep maroon colored lava lamp, which gave off the only light in the room, and threw himself back onto his bed. He looked up at the ceiling which had been painted midnight black a few months before. That’s when this had all started. He disliked color of any kind now except crimson, dark gray, and black. Never was there a smile upon his pale face again. He’d sunk into a constant depressed state, always thinking down, his mind stayed in a pessimistic setting all the time now. All he really wanted to do was die, or so he thought. He actually treasured life, but he needed pain. So he cut himself with a knife that wasn’t exceptionally sharp. It hurt like Hell as he let cinnamon oil fall slowly one drop at a time into the shallow cuts he’d made on his forearm. He felt as though he deserved the pain though he wasn’t quite sure why.

Yet tonight was different, he’d just lost someone he’d loved so much, and still did, he just wanted to end his miserable life. What was the point of going on, was there one? The entire thing had been his fault, as most things were. He stood up and preceded to the lava lamp, he clicked it on. He walked to the table and sat down; he glared once more at the puddle of blood that had now dried. He pulled a small hammer from the toolbox beside the table and hit the plastic case with it. A loud snap was heard as the plastic broke, and the clatter of metal resounded through the room as the steel razor blades fell to the table. He picked up one of the blades and tested its sharpness with his finger only to receive a small incision on his thumb. He sighed and turned his hand over reveling the veins that pumped blood through his wrist, the veins that were easily seen through his paper thin skin.

He held the razor between the thumb and index finger on his right hand as he stared at the blood running just under the flour white skin on his left wrist. He looked to the razor blade he held in his hand and then back to his wrist. He looked back and forth between the two for quite sometime before he decided what he wanted to do. He gently pressed the blade to the skin of his forearm, and a thin line of blood encircled the blade. He pushed a bit harder until a drop of blood ran down his arm and dripped to the ebony wood of the table below. He allowed the hand that held the razor to jerk back splitting the skin on his forearm, allowing the dark crimson blood to flow freely. He then pressed the blade to the thin skin of his right wrist. Once more a thin line of blood appeared around the edge of the blade. He closed his eyes tightly, pushed on the blade and then pulled his hand back, making sure to keep the pressure on the blade. The skin split open, along with one of the veins that had run underneath it. The crimson liquid poured from his wrist and arm falling swiftly onto the table below.

He moved from the chair to the floor where he sat with his back against the locked door. He could stop it, all of it, well all of it except the murderous heartbreak he felt everyday, every time he talked to her. She’d be happy now with him gone, if she even noticed. She would no longer have to put up with his silly attempts at friendship, she could be completely happy now. He sighed looking to where the blood poured out onto the carpet. He was beginning to get the dizziness that came along with the blood loss; he leaned his head back against the door and slowly closed his eyes. He felt his pulse begin to slow, and it was becoming harder and harder for him to take a breath. He was breathing deeply and getting a very small amount of air to flow into his lungs. He could feel the life flowing out of the wounds he himself had made. He was suddenly very tired, he yawned before sinking into the ebony darkness of a blissful unconscious state.

He awoke, only to find himself strapped to a hospital bed… Was this what hell was like? He wondered silently. He saw none of the fire that the preachers had always promised him. He began an examination of the room, an IV ran from a pouch of deep red liquid which flowed down the tube and into his arm. Wires of all colors and shapes ran around the bed and connected to the various machines, monitors, and computers that surrounded the hospital bed he’d been so cruelly strapped to. His wrist was bandaged along with his arm and… throat? He didn’t remember having any trouble with his throat before. He felt light headed and despite the fact it may happen to call Satan himself to his beside, he reach for the nurse call button, yet he didn’t quite get the button hit before he slipped under once more.

The next time he happened to awaken, he was in a different room, one that happened to have a pitch black ceiling and midnight colored walls, a red lava lamp sat on the table beside him. Yet the machines hadn’t left.
“I thought I was in Hell, yet it seems I’ve ended up in my own room.” He mused out loud.
As he went to set up he became aware of something else, he was still strapped down to the bed. He heard the door to the room open, and his mother entered silently. He looked up at her with accusing blue eyes; she’d done this to him. This wasn’t Hell, but it was close, he was in a hospital.
“Why didn’t you just let me die, as I’d wanted to?” He continued his threatening stare as he asked this.
“Because I love you that’s why…” His mother answered, her voice shaking. A soft sigh escaped his lips before he spoke again,
“I want to go home, and I don’t like hospitals.”
“You can’t go home until we’re sure your okay.” She looked down as she said this.

“Mrs. Rhodes, we’re going to have to ask that you leave for the night.”
A nurse neither one of them had been aware of spoke softly.
“Mother you can’t just leave me here like this.” He looked at her with pitiful puppy dog eyes.
“I’m sorry, but until we’re completely sure that you’re going to be alright you need to stay here.”
Her voice was apologetic. He glared at her, an anger starting to rise in him; he noticed the anger and let his face fall back to a sad, pitiful look.
“At least remove these restraints, they are rather uncomfortable.” He whimpered.
A soft look came across her face as she mused the idea to herself, then she remembered the glare she’d received moments ago. He’d been trying this whole time to get her to let him out, but he’d slipped up by allowing his anger to show… if she did let him out, what would he do to himself, or to others? She turned away from his accusing look and walked to the door.

The nurse brought a dinner tray over to his bedside. He looked up at her and spoke softly.
“Now how am I supposed to eat that with my being chained to this bed and all?”
“Hold on a moment and I’ll let you lose.”
He smiled at her as she began undoing the restraints around his upper body.
“Thank you very much.”
He said as he sat up stretching, he looked down at the tray that was now positioned in front of him.
“Nothing but a plastic spoon to eat with, oh well, it’ll do.”
He picked up the spoon and began to slowly eat. “I’m going to step outside for a minute; can I trust you to behave?”
He nodded, as his mouth was full of food and he found it improper to speak with his mouth full, especially in public. She smiled and stepped out of the room. He looked at the spoon and smiled, bending it over till it broke he produced a rather pointy handle. He removed the white cotton bandages from his wrist and began using the tip of the handle to remove the stitches in his skin. He smiled as the blood began to flow out of his veins and onto the checkered white and light blue sheets.

The nurse reentered the room to find him unconscious and blood dripping from his arm on to the bed, which had already turned a crimson color. He finally awoke late the next night, once again strapped down to the bed. He sighed and then looked to the nurse that stood beside the bed, giving her an evil glare.
“I’m sorry, but if you’d just stop this we wouldn’t be having a problem, and we could get rid of these nasty straps.” She said pulling on the strap loosening it a bit.
He never let the glare drop from his eyes.
“Are you going to be here the whole time or would you at least be decent enough to let me have some privacy? It’s not as though I can do anything anyway.” His voice had a tone of fire to it.
The nurse sighed walking from the room. He smirked, she’d loosened the strap just enough. He pulled his hands together removing the pin from his watch band. He pushed the pin under the stitches and pulled up on it, the blood began to run across his arm and he smirked. He continued with this “push pull” method for thirty minutes before he finally got the last of the stitches out. The blood poured from that same wound for the third time now. He smiled; for once he was satisfied, just watching the blood run. He glared at the nurse who walked back into the room; she’d picked a horrible time to reenter. She sighed upon seeing the blood. She fitted a mask over his mouth and nose, and he quickly fell to sleep.

He awoke in a fouler mood than usual. He stared up at his mother, an icy hatred in the glare. She looked down at him apologetic.
“Are you feeling any better?” He refused to answer, who was this woman that would leave him here to die?
If she really wanted him to live and loved him as she said, she would not have just left him there.
“Why are you ignoring me?” Tears in her voice made him decide to respond.
“Why should I bother with someone who’s abandoned me in this Hell to die?” His voice calm despite all his anger.
“Abandoned you here? You’ve been here for two weeks, I’d defiantly not call that abandonment, not to mention the fact that I’ve been here everyday since you were in here, with the exception of yesterday. ” She sighed, looking down.
He shook his head closing his eyes. “Now isn’t a good time mother, I’m in a rather…foul mood.”
He frowned; he just didn’t want to say something that he would regret later.
She nodded and then spoke softly. “It’s alright Jay, I understand.” He nodded already about half into the oblivion of a dreamless sleep.

He woke the next day rather early, the morning nurse Amelia, was one rather strict with the rules, but was soft hearted toward him. He sighed softly, how was he going to get out of here? He wasn’t really all that sure. He didn’t particularly want to die any longer, he just wanted to go home, and to school. He wouldn’t have even minded being sent to school, he just needed out of this hospital. He glared to the pitch black ceiling and then looked to the nurse with a smirk. He kicked the bed as best he could and let out a glass shattering scream. Amelia looked to him for a slight second, and then ran over to his bedside. She undid the leather straps which restrained him to the bed as fast as she could. The second she was done with the straps the ear piercing scream stopped. She went to redo the straps and he grabbed her wrist, shaking his head slowly.
“I don’t think so.” He smirked, pulling the various needles, patches, and wires off of his arms and chest.
She tired to jerk from his grasp, but her effort was rewarded by his squeezing harder. He stood up beside her, her wrist still firmly in his grasp, a slight smirk crossed his face as she looked up at him, fear in her intense jade green eyes.

“I’m going home.” He said this with unusual intensity.
“Your not going anywhere, I’m sorry” The nurse answered him softly, her eyes still held and immense amount of fear.
He let go of her wrist and walked to the door, she wasn’t able to see around him at what he was doing, but she heard the metallic click of a blot sliding into place.
“What…are you…going to do…to me?” Her voice shaking ever so slightly, her attempts at keeping calm were not working as well as she’d have liked.
He turned around his deep blue eyes held a sinister evil, never before seen in him. He slowly approached her, the look never leaving his eyes as he locked her gaze. She looked down to the ground refusing to hold his death gaze. Death gaze, the moment she thought those words a chill ran straight down her spine, she looked up at him once more, seeing the glitter of what seemed to be light bouncing off of metal. She was rewarded by another chill at that thought.

She cringed as he continued the slow approach; the only sounds in the room were the low click of his shoes on the slick linoleum, and the pitiful whimper of her sobs. He smirked upon hearing her sobs and watching her shake.
“Wha…” But, she was unable to go on.
“What am I going to do with you is that what you want to know?” His voice held an icy tone, which frightened the nurse.
She nodded slowly.
“I’m going to kill you that’s what I’m going to do with you. Is it not obvious?”
He grinned a smile that only the devil himself could match, and even he would have trouble.
“Jacob you don’t have to do this, I did nothing to you.” Her voice was low and almost impossible to hear.
“You, the people in this hospital and even my own mother have damned me here to die. Strapped to this bed to avoid hurting myself because I’ve tired to do so with everything from a broken plastic spoon to something as simple as the pin in a watch, my God why didn’t you just kill me yourselves? It would have been a lot less painful when it was all said and done. I couldn’t even feed myself and no one cared. I lay starring at this ceiling this pitch black ceiling, night after endless night. The only lights coming from the various machines that were attached to my body by wires and the occasional nurse coming to see if I’d died yet.” His voice had a calm tone even though he was describing Hell on Earth.

“That wasn’t the fault of a….”
“You people were going to let me die!” He cut her off flames raging in his voice.
“No one wants you to die Jacob.” Her voice calm despite the anger she could hear in his voice.
“You know as well as I do that I deserve to die for the things that I have done.” He now spoke softly. “No one deserves to die, Jesus…”
He cut her off once more.
“Don’t speak with me about your god!”
He was enraged and this time it seemed worse. “Enough with all this talking, its time for you to die.”
He stated this simply and a joy filled grin spread across his face. There came a loud rapping at the door.
“It’s Mrs. Rhodes; I’d like to see my son.” Jacob jumped at the voice.
“I will be back… and this hospital, you, and my mother will pay.”
The special tense tone on ‘will pay’ made Amelia cringe. Jacob disappeared out a side door.

“Amelia are you in there?” Mrs. Rhodes voice came from the other side of the door.
The young nurse fell to her knees as crystal blue tears rolled down her cheeks. She heard the jungle of keys, and the sliding sound of a blot moving out of the locked position. Mrs. Rhodes and a rather muscular doctor walked through the now opened door. They looked in shock at the mess before them. Jacob’s machines were tipped over and there were various wires and needles everywhere. Amelia looked up at them,
“He left, and we’re all going to pay.” She looked down continuing to sob.
“How could he have gotten loose?” The doctor asked, he was clearly not at all that bright or the answer would have been crystal clear.
“Isn’t it obvious? She let him out, the woman cannot do her job.” Mrs. Rhodes voice held a rather depressing, but still sarcastic tone.
“Our staff isn’t….”
She cut the doctor off, not letting him bother with the rest of his sentence.
“You staff?! Your staff is incompetent! They allowed themselves to be manipulated by a child strapped to a hospital bed! How hard is it to keep him strapped down!?” Mrs. Rhodes fumed.
“I’m sorry.” That was all Amelia could say before breaking into tears once more.
“Why the heck are you crying? Your suicidal son isn’t out wondering the gang infested streets of Pittsburgh in the middle of the night.”
“He was going to…” Amelia couldn’t go on, her body was already beginning to shake with fear; she buried her head in her hands and continued to cry.

Mrs. Rhodes glared down at her.
“He was going to what? What could a little boy possibly do to make you cry so much!?” Amelia sighed, all the tears gone from her eyes.
“He was going to kill me.”
“How dare you even think of accusing him of that!? My son would never even dream of killing someone!”
“He was going to kill himself, was he not?” The doctor, who had been long forgotten by the two women, said this.
“That does not make my son a murderer. Just because he hated his life doesn’t mean he wanted the rest of us to die!” Mrs. Rhodes said through gritted teeth.
The nurse picked herself up off the floor and dusted off the pants that made up her scrub uniform. Amelia walked from the room, she refused to just stand there and take that from the young mother. The doctor followed out behind her, leaving Jacob’s mother behind in the cold room she’d damned her son’s soul to. She looked down shaking her head realizing all the mistakes she’d made, she hadn’t helped him through this all she’d accomplished was to make her son totally and completely hate her…

-One Year Later-
Night fell upon the city of Pittsburgh rather early. The sky was a deep blue, swirled with a mix of grayish blue clouds that made it impossible to see the stars. She couldn't see the moon from her office window. Amelia Walker watched out the window of her third story office. as the red sports car attempted to parallel park in a spot that was obviously to small for it to fit into, amazingly enough the driver put the oversized car in the extremely small space. He stuck his head out the window looking to see what might be coming down the road and then hopped out of the car. He made sure the door was locked and ran across the street seconds before a bus. She sighed as she looked around the cramped office that was cluttered with medical reports, books, and various charts and graphs. Looking down upon the lives of various tourist and people of the city as they went about their many task of the night was much more interesting that the patient files that lay on the desk amongst the clutter of papers on her desk. So she decided to continue her on looking and worry about the files later that night, when there was less commotion going on below on the street.

She watched out the window as a few young children walked by, a basketball being past back and forth between them. It was nearly midnight and she wondered what the boys were doing wondering around the streets at this hour. A young mother and her child crossed the street seconds after an ambulance that raced down the street its siren waking many of the new residents to the area, the rest of the residents were already used to the screaming that seemed to happen a lot during the night. She heard a noise coming down the hall beyond the smooth oak of the office door. It sounded like a hospital bed, yet there were no patients in this wing of the hospital. So there was no reason for someone to be pushing a bed down the hall, possibly it was a new resident who was simply lost and may need her help finding their way to wherever they might be going this time of the night. Amelia got up and edged slowly toward the door; her hands began to shake slightly as she twisted the cold brass of the door knob and opened the door. No sooner than she did, an empty hospital bed rolled past the door… all on it’s on. She saw the shadow of a human figure right after the bed rolled past. A glass shattering scream resounded through the hallways of the empty hospital wing.

Alex Walker walked down the hall toward her sisters' office humming softly to her self. She'd called somewhere around an hour before and gotten no response. She simply figured her hardworking sister had pulled an all night shift and fell asleep on the computer desk as she had at least a hundred times before. She approached the door and was horrified to see blood smeared across the light brown panels that made up the door. She quickly opened the office door and screamed upon seeing her sisters' bloody body lying on the floor in a puddle of thick crimson liquid. She had small incisions, possibly made by a doctor’s scalpel, all over her arms and face. There were puddles of the deep crimson liquid in various places all over the office. Her eyes glanced to her sisters face were her eyes were rolled back into her head, and her face had been slashed starting from the top of her face and running straight down her face. Her stomach was slashed open and her intestines and other various organs were strewn about the office, some hanging from the walls with nails. Books and papers were scattered about more than usual, a bookcase has been pushed over onto the computer desk in the back corner, the computer tower sat on the desk unharmed, but the monitor had been smashed in when the bookcase came crashing down. Alex fell to her knees on the floor, her head in her lap, and tears began streaming down her cheeks and rolling off her chin into the floor.

Lieutenant Jeffery Blankenship stood over the bloody scene slowly shaking his head in disgust. What kind of sick and twisted mind had come up with this horrible plot of gruesome murder? He looked about as the team of detectives and hematologist began their quick work to find any possible clues before they deteriorated. Jeff shook his head once more; he knew that there were no clues to be found. The murderer had left no fingerprints, nor any footprints, they'd lost no hair, and all the blood at the scene was the victims. There was no sign of a break in, and the killer obviously knew exactly where they were going, since no other area seemed bothered.
"J. B., come over here and look at this." Steven Thompson, top ranking detective for the Pittsburgh Special Investigations Unit, called over to Jeff.
He slowly approached where the detective was bent over the body of the young women. Steve had her turned over, the back of her shirt raised, someone had taken a knife and wrote the letters B. C. J. Jeff glared at the letters and turned away walking from the room.

Jeff set a team to clean up what was left of the office. The cleaning crew came in early that next morning and began their messy job to clean up what the killer had left in the office. Most of the various organs and a large amount of the blood had been taken away from the forensic team that had combed the scene in hopes of finding a link to the killer’s identity. Jeff had known all along that the killer wouldn’t leave behind any clues, the person that had done this knew exactly what they were doing when the actually murder came into play. The cleaning crew worked hard all day, moving papers, scrubbing blood and replacing things such as bookshelves, and computer monitors that someone had gone through a lot of trouble to destroy. As they cleaned the last of the carpet, Jeff walked into inspect their job. He smiled at the now neat office, which looked much more clean than it had been when Amelia was the inhabitant. He hoped that Alex’s working in this room wouldn’t freak her out as he expected. It was going to be hard for her to sit in here and get anything done, he sighed walking from the room.

Alex sat in her sister’s office, the mess had been cleaned. The blood and various organs were no longer strewn about the room. Alex stared out the window remembering how her sister had always told her the view helped her work and refused to put curtains or blinds up. Alex stood at the window watching the various dramas that passed below the window. There was a small spot across the road; Alex wondered if anyone actually thought that they could park in there. Alex watched as a red GT 40 sports car stopped and acted as if the driver thought he could get the oversized car into the spot. The driver expertly parked the car in the small spot and stuck his head out the window looking for any traffic. He got out of the car quickly making sure the door locked, he then jogged across the street. Alex didn't think anything of it and turned from the window; she sat down at the computer and began reading through some of her sisters' old logs. One was dated "November 7," it stuck out, that was last night, the night Amelia was murdered. She opened the file and began to read.
“Viewers Log- #3002
November 7, 2002 [11:58 p.m.]
Nothing interesting is happening tonight, I'm thinking about actually turning in early tonight. I'm really not sure. Ha! That man actually thinks he can get a car that big into a parking spot that small?! Incredible! He actually did it. I hear a hospital bed coming down the hall, that’s not right there aren’t supposed to be any patients in this wing. I'm going to investigate I shall return.
-Amelia Jade Walker"

A chill ran down Alex's spine, the moment she finished that last statement, the familiar and now deadly sound of a hospital bed’s wheels rolling across the slick linoleum of the hospitals floor filled her ears. Alex got up silently, turned off the light and locked the door, the only sound made was the metallic click of a lock sliding into place. She crawled over to the desk, around behind it, and slid under it. Crystal clear tears began to run down her cheeks as she heard the jingling of keys, and the sound of the bolt sliding out of place. The door opened and the light switch clicked on. The lights flickered, giving off the eerie illusion of lightning and then came on burning brightly and lighting up Alex's hiding spot quiet well. A man walked around the side of the desk, he was wearing black jeans and light brown hunting boots. The exact same thing the man jogging across the street had been wearing, Alex remembered that scene well, and wondered if her sister had saw the exact same thing the night of her murder. Alex curled up into a small ball, keeping as quite as she possibly could. Not thinking at all she let out a low whimper. The man stopped walking; he now stood right in front of the desk. Alex held her breath; despite all her quietness she was discovered. The man leaned down and his piercing blue eyes met Alex's deep sea green eyes, and he smiled an evil satanistic grin, which only the devil could match.

Jeff stood over almost the exact same scene he had yesterday. Each and every one of the gory details the same except this time instead of just having the monitor smashed, the entire computer looked as if it had been beaten severely with a baseball bat. The link between the two victims was obvious to anyone, they were sisters, but who would want to kill them and how could they link anyone to the crime scene? Jeff sighed; he knew there were no clues this time either. Nothing out of the ordinary was going to be found once more, Jeff had combed the entire room before his team had even arrived at the scene. He turned around and walked out of the room, if there were any clues to be found they weren't going to be found in that room, the murderer had known exactly what he was doing when it came to the actual killing, but could he have slipped up somewhere else? Jeff's eyes slowly scanned the walls outside of the Walker Sisters office. He smiled as he looked at something he'd found on the wall. He took out a small black notepad and wrote something down in it followed by a complicated drawing, and slid it back into his pocket. He then pulled out a small camera and snapped a picture. He walked over to the elevator and hit the up call button as opposed to the down button which would take him to the safety of his patrol car.

Jeff stepped onto the elevator and went up to the eighth floor of the Dolemann Building; he began a slow walk to the Ear & Nose Institute. In the middle of the bridge to the building Jeff stopped suddenly. He walked to the glass wall to his left and looked out of it, something just wasn’t right, he could feel it. He could see the clutter which was the Walker office from here and the busy street below it. Jeff saw a blood red GT 40 pull into a spot in between a white Ford Mustang GT and a black Dodge Viper, Jeff's Viper. He watched the man look out the window checking for traffic and then got out of the car, making sure it was locked he acted as if he was going to cross the street, but then he looked up seeing Jeff standing the window. The man grinned, and then proceeded to cross the street quickly and walk up to the locked doors of the Dolemann Building, the man knocked and received no answer, which was normal seeing as it was after hours, a bright yellow sign on the door clearly indicated this. He turned away from the door and disappeared around the back of the building. Any other time Jeff wouldn't have bothered worrying about the shady looking mans actions but for some strange reason he was just acting a bit too suspicious for Jeff. Jeff raced back to the Dolemann building, as the elevator doors squeaked open, an empty patient bed rolled past them.

Jeff drew the 9 millimeter semi-automatic police issue handgun from its hidden place in a shoulder holster under his black leather jacket. A man stepped around the corner, the steel of a knife blade was seen easily as the light bounced off the silver blade and flashed into Jeff’s eyes. The man brought the blade down in a quick motion which caught Jeff off guard. The knife struck him in the shoulder and he used his good arm to quickly fire his gun hitting the man in the stomach at point blank range, it should have killed him, but it didn’t even slow him down. The man took off running down the hall, almost slipping on the freshly waxed linoleum. Jeff made no chase because the loss of blood was already beginning to affect his reflexes.

Jeff slumped against the wall allowing himself to slide down until he sat flat on the floor. He stood up and walked back into the room that had been busy with various detectives and hematologist only a short half hour ago. What now filled the room was a scene straight out of a Freddy Kruger movie. Blood ran against the walls of the room and out of the door, rising above the bottoms of his brown boots turning them a sick crimson shade that made Jeff cringe. The once white carpet, now only shone white in a few separate spots all across the floor. Jeff knew exactly what was to come next; he spun around and fired three quick shots into the figures stomach.

Mrs. Rhodes wore a long silk black dress; she was helped out of a red van and escorted by her father up the sidewalk. She walked slowly around toward the back of the building obviously not in any hurry to get to where she was going. She walked out to a blue tent, under which a grave was hidden. The rain began to sprinkle down upon the heads of all those unlucky enough to be standing around the blue tent that covered the grave rather than under it. Catharine Rhodes sighed as she began a calm, unhurried walk toward the tent. She couldn’t believe that her son was actually gone. It had been an entire year since she’d last seen him, and at that time he’d hated her. She wasn’t quite sure what she was going to do with out him, oh how she missed him. He approached her ex husband, with a joyless smile and greeted him joylessly.
“Hello Jeffery.”

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