As I kicked away the chair under me I couldn’t help but feel a bit of fear. This had always been the case, but it was much worse this time knowing what was at stake. Before I could worry more the rough rope tightened around my throught. Goddamit, I should have bought some nicer rope I thought in an effort to escape the pain. The tightening of the rope had gone way to fast for this type of rope. The rough rope had moved so fast it had left carpet burns over my neck, leaving it irritable. Just what I need when I’m trying hang myself fucking irritable skin. The sensation of thousands of little straw needles going over my sensitive skin was preventing me from getting comfortable in my hanging position. Idely I tried to distract myself by counting tiles. It didn’t work…
of course it didn’t dipshit. The sensation of raw skin and frustratingly painfull bad string had somehow combined with the sensation of choking into a whole new sensation of suck. That on itself was manageable I’d become used to it. What I never got used to was the bodies instinct to survive taking over. It always managed to take over and convince him that he wanted to live. Wich is a fucking stupid thing. Why would I want to live if I already made the clearheaded and rational deci.. You didn’t, you weren’t rational nor were you clearheaded. Tends to happen when all of youre friends die. Before I was able to address the traitorous part of my mind. The ball of unstable mass that is my body decided to attempt to reach critical mass. Luckely I remained calm and bottled up all the panic and hysteria that I had. I know that when I eventually give in to the hysteria I’ll be reduced to a flailing mess unable to detach myself from the pain and hurt.
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The more I think about it the more it hurts the more it hurts the more it think about it, The more I think about it the more it hurts the more it hurts the more it think about it, The more I think about it the more it hurts the more it hurts the more it think about it,
Make it stop, make it stop, make it stop, make it stop, make it stop, make it stop, make it stop, make it stop, make it stop, make it stop, make it stop, make it stop, stop, stop, STOP, STOP, STOP!
But, the choking didn’t stop it went on. As it always does. Every single second the pain got worse. Every single second the rough rope got more uncomfortable, every single second more spit gathered in his mouth unable to be swallowed nor able to be spat out, every single second he realized more and more that he hadn’t been ready and should have thought this through more, every single second he thought he had reached rock bottom and every single second he realized he was wrong.