Page 94 of Deviant Need

No more father.

No more disappointment.

No more being the family fuckup who can’t do anything right.

I throw the bags across the room, and they hit the wall before scattering onto the floor.

Something inside me breaks completely. I gasp for air but can’t pull it in, my lungs refusing to expand while my chest caves in like it’s trying to collapse into itself.

I stumble toward the bed but don’t make it, my legs give out and send me crashing onto my ass against the footboard. My hands come up to press against my head, palms digging into my skull until it hurts. I close my eyes while pressing harder, needing the pain to ground me because I can’t breathe and the room is spinning and I don’t know how to make it stop.

Everything inside of me is telling me to end it.

When my eyes open, I notice the extension cord lying loosely on the floor near my desk. My hands twitch, and I look up at the ceiling, at the hook that’s still there from where I used to have the floating chair.

It wouldn’t be quick exactly, but it’s one way to do it. Overdosing would take too much time, and he could stop it before it happens. This would be faster.

Pushing myself up, I walk over to the cord, my hands shaking when I pick it up. The smooth coating of the plastic slides through my grip as I drag the desk chair across the room, the legs scraping against the floor. I position it carefully under the hook and climb up onto it, my legs unsteady beneath me.

The cord feels heavy in my hands as I tie it to the hook, my fingers fumbling with the knot. I test it once, twice, pulling hard to make sure it holds. It does.

My hands tremble as I wrap the other end around my neck, the rubber cord pressing against my skin. I pull it tight enough to feel the pressure building, then tighter. My heart pounds in my ears, and I position myself on my toes, breathing shallow and fast, my legs already shaking.

I kick the chair out from under me.

The cord catches hard, and everything goes tight. The pressure is immediate and crushing, cutting off everything. My throat closes, and my lungs burn, desperate for air that won’t come. My hands fly up instinctively, clawing at the cord around my neck, trying to pry it loose, but my fingers can’t get underneath it. It won’t budge.

My vision starts to blur at the edges, dark spots creeping in fast. My legs kick uselessly beneath me, searching for the chair that isn’t there anymore. Panic floods through me, and my chest heaves, trying to pull in air that doesn’t exist. The burning in my lungs turns white-hot, and everything starts going gray.

The door slams open so hard it hits the wall and bounces back.

“Mikhail!”

He runs at me and grabs my legs, lifting me up to take the pressure off, but my weight makes him stagger. The cord digs in harder for a second before the pressure eases and I gasp, choking and gulping in air that burns going down my throat. He’s saying something, but I can’t process it, can’t hear anything over the ringing in my ears and my own desperate wheezing. Everything is starting to turn black, my vision blurring.

He kicks at the chair with his foot, trying to get it back under me, but it’s too far away, and his hands are shaking too badly. He has to let go of one of my legs to drag it closer, and I drop again, the cord biting into my throat. I choke and claw at it while he scrambles to shove the chair beneath my feet.

“Stand on it, fucking stand on it!”

My feet find the chair, and I get my weight on it, gasping and coughing. He climbs up with me, and the chair wobbles dangerously under both our weight. His hands shake as he reaches for the cord around my neck, trying to get his fingers under it, but it’s too tight, and I’m still pulling against it without meaning to.

“Stop moving, stop,” he says, his voice cracking. “I can’t get it loose if you keep moving!”

He gets it loose enough to pull it over my head, and I break completely.

Everything that’s been holding me together shatters, and I can’t stop the sob that rips out of my throat, raw and broken. He jumps down off the chair and takes my hand, pulling me down with him. I stumble off, my legs barely holding me, and he shoves me toward the bed. The second I hit the mattress, he climbs on top of me and wraps himself around me completely, his arms tight and desperate.

Another sob tears out of me, and then I can’t stop. They keep coming, one after another, my whole body shaking with them. I can’t breathe through it, can’t catch my breath between the waves crashing over me.

My throat burns, and I’m falling apart completely, every piece of control I’ve been clinging to just gone. I try to stop, try to pull it back, but it won’t stop coming. The sobs wrack through me until I’m gasping, choking on them, and he just holds me tighter, his face buried against my neck while I break into a thousand pieces beneath him.

“You can’t leave me. You can’t. Please don’t ever do that to me. I need you.” His voice cracks, shaking so hard he can barely get the words out.

I can’t answer or form words around the pain tearing through me, and the sobs that won’t stop coming. Instead, I wrap my arms around him and hold on, falling apart against him while he keeps me grounded. Everything inside me is breaking and spilling out, and I can’t hold it back anymore, so I just let it happen, let myself shatter while he holds the pieces together.

“Fuck, my heart almost dropped out of my body,” he gasps and wraps himself tighter around me. His whole body is shaking.

My eyes are full with tears, and I stare up at his face when he pulls back enough to look at me. “If you go, I go with you. Do you understand me? I wouldn’t stay for five seconds after you left this earth, so don’t ever do that unless you want me to die with you.” His hands grip my face, thumbs pressing against my cheeks. “Do you understand me?”