Falling

Slowly

Dead

Inside

Cold

Dark

Broken

Falling

Feliciano cried, and cried, and cried. Nothing could stop him. He was falling. He was falling towards nothing. His heart felt like it was being ripped apart from the inside. A scream of pain echoed throughout the empty house. No part of his previous self remained. He was falling. Falling oh so fast.

Happiness was a myth for him now. Only darkness remained. And the feeling of falling. He edged closer to madness, his hands grasping around the cold steel left on the counter. He grinned, a sadistic grin, as a warm liquid filled his palm. The grip on the cold blade tightened, the pain sending him into ecstasy. He dragged the blade off the counter, sending it clattering against the floor, blood droplets spraying everywhere.

He traced the fresh cut in his hands, enjoying the stinging sensation it caused him. He smiled again. A cold, heartless smile. Something inside of him had snapped. And he was falling. Falling through the darkness. Time slowed down as he reached for the knife, smiling as his hand wrapped around the handle.

Raising it up, the blade came down. Down upon the soft flesh of his arm. Blood sprayed. It was a symphony of pain. And darkness. And falling. Again the knife came down, soiling the floor with the colour of crimson red. He pretended he was in an orchestra, his arm the violin, the bow, his knife. He smiled. What fun you could have cutting yourself.

On to his other arm. He slashed merciless, smile growing each time the cold steel met the pink flesh. Blood splattered his clothes and the floor. He was the maestro and the music he made with blood and knife was music to his ears. Yet he was falling, falling faster, and faster, never able to stop.

The lightheadedness accompanying him made him feel like he was flying, yet the heavy weight of his heart dragged him down. He needed more. He slashed again, and the blood splattered his face. He never flinched, leaving the blood to blur his vision as it dripped into his eyes. Falling, past the stars, never stopping. Always falling.

A clatter. His name. He turned. Slowly to look. There was a man in the doorway. He seemed familiar somehow. How rude was this man to interrupt him as he made, sweet, bloody music. His hand went up, preparing for the next blow. Something was wrong. His arm wouldn't come down. The slash never came. What was this? Something was wrong. Seriously wrong. He wasn't falling. Suspended, by a spiders thread.

The numbness was going away. This would not do. The numbness took away the pain. Pain made him fall. No, this was not good. Wait... There is something there. Something... Warm. Around him. Loving, comforting, apologizing. The knife slipped. Shoot. Now what would he do? He needed that.

His cheeks felt moist, but not with the warm thick blood. Something saltier. Tears. Down his face? Curious. Someone else was there. Behind him maybe? Hugging him? How strange. He began climbing up. Something was not right. He was not falling. He was rising. Up, up, up. Towards the light again.

The coldness is receding, warmth coming back and something else. Something new. Pain. Excruciating. Where did it originate? His arms? His hands? Who did this? Himself? Why? What is this? Someone was behind him. Hugging him, crying. Crying for him. Feeling for him. Apologizing to him. Why? He was happy falling. Happy feeling numb. Now he was coming back. It was frightening.

He slumped lower, wanting to fall again. He reached for the knife desperately. Strong hands stopped him. He screamed. A horrible sound. An ear piercing scream. Inhuman. The grip around him tightened. The screaming stopped. He turned to look over his shoulder. There was a man. A blonde man. Hugging him tightly. Cyan blue eyes hidden behind closed eyelids. Yet tears escaped.

Heart wrenching was the scene. Reality came rushing back. He snapped back the other way. Falling. Up. Words became clearer. The blurred lines became bold. He was almost himself. He began to cry again. Sanity returning. His arms moved on their own, the last part of the cold darkness screaming at him to stop. He hugged this man. This man he loved. This man who had rejected him in fear of hurting him, and in doing so, just hurt him more. This man with the beautiful cyan blue eyes

And he cried. He cried with this man, trembling, terrified. The darkness was blown away from the sudden light, screaming as it burned up, until it was no more. It was no more. He was back. Feet planted on the ground, but shaky. Something, no.. Someone was there to help him stand. To learn how to stand on his own again. To help him recover. This man. This man he loved was here for him.

A voice. A sweet deep voice. The voice of an angel. A blonde blue eyed angel. Who carried him up. Up, up, up. Back up again. Mending the breaks, healing the wounds. Feliciano was whole again, his heart sewn up and placed back into place. This is bliss. Better than before. Better than the numbness, the falling. He had tasted heaven and was never going back. That was all the better for his angel. His angel needed him as he needed his angel. It was perfect.

Now, he could return. Stronger than ever. He would learn to crawl, then walk, then run. He would smile again, and play in the fields of glory. He would never fall again. He had his angel now, his lover, his friend. To save him from falling always. To catch him. In turn, he would catch him. He would love him, and smile at him, and care for him. They would bond and live together. Supporting each other for all of eternity. He was once falling. Falling down. Down, down, down. But something changed. And he was falling. Falling up. Up, up, up.

A/N: Oh umm. WOW. I can't believe I just wrote this... This is just.. DEPRESSING MAN. GYAAH... O_O This just came to me I guess... I just wrote what popped into my head... And yes, I wrote that little blurb at the beginning.. I guess you could call it a poem maybe? I'm not sure what else to call it... Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this? If it pulled on your heartstrings that's GOOD! For me anyways. Maybe not you. I don't know...

~Sparkle