Love Is A Form Of Suicide by Jimm Tumbly (book club reads .TXT) 📖

arm. I begin to panic, searching my tampered brain for something to say. My eyes search her face, looking for some sort of weakness.

“No,” I reply, confidence in my voice, “I didn't.” She looks at me, not believing the words that escape my lips.

“Brent, just tell the truth.” She says. Jack keeps looking at the scar and back to my face, silent.

“Mrs. Scarlett, I didn't do it purposefully. In the cafeteria I bumped into the edge of one of the tables. I cut my arm pretty bad as you can see.”

I sit up in my bed, displaying my arm for all to see. She studies my face, contemplating weather or not to believe me. I turn to Jack, knowing I could convince my only friend in here.

“Jack, you believe me don't you? You know I would never lie.” My eyes are sincere and my voice apologetic. He clears his throat and looks from me to Mrs. Scarlett.

“He wouldn't lie, Mrs. Scarlett. I know Brent, have been with him since he got here six months ago.” Jack says.

Yes, he will get her to believe me! No one can ever know about my little secret or they will lock me away longer.

“Okay, I guess that is logical.” She says. Yes!

“Of course it is Mrs. Scarlett.” I reply.

She nods. “Okay, well it is time for group therapy. Jack will take you there.” She walks out of my room and closes the door behind her.

I stand up and walk to the door, Jack doesn't move. “Well,” I say, “are you coming?” He stares at me for a moment.

“You made that cut on your arm.” It's not a question, but a statement.

“But you told Mrs. Scarlett-”

“I told her that I know Brent, and he would never lie. you are not Brent.” He walks past me and opens the door. I follow him out. The hallway is silent, which gives me too much time to go over what he said.

you are not Brent. How am I not Brent? That is my birth given name, is it not? That is what I am called, that is who I have always been. So why does Jack say that I am not Brent? How could this conclusion be?

I walk into the therapy room, not saying another word to Jack. He knows my secret, and I have a feeling he will keep it. But the more important question is, how am I not me?

I take my seat next to Victory and offer a half smile. I am too busy debating inside my head to start a conversation. Mr. Corpse jumps right in to today's session as soon as everyone is seated.

“Since all of you are going to be released soon, I thought we could go over what your plans are for when you get out. Tyler, let's start with you.”

“Um, okay. Well, I was planning on...” Tyler goes into detail about his useless plans while I still struggle to comprehend what, exactly, Jack meant.

I am Brent Lucas Skyes, I always have been. I am a psycho path, a crazy person. I tried to kill myself once and ended up here in hell. I started cutting myself to ease the pain and stop the horrifying memories my so- called “father” left me with. That is who I am, that is who I will always be.

“Brent,” Mr. Corpse says, pulling me out of my debate, “would you like to share your plans?” I notice everyone is staring at me. I shrug.

“I guess.” I reply. I am about to speak when I realize, I don't have any plans. I don't know what I am going to do with my life. I look at Victory. Her eyes are gazing upon my face in an admirable fashion. Right there, in her eyes, I see my future. “I plan on raising a child,” I say, my eyes resting upon Victory's face. “I plan on having a family and being an amazing father to my child.” Victory smiles and her eyes tear up a bit. I tear my eyes from her face to look at Mr. Corpse.

Everyone in the room, including Mr. Corpse is staring at me. Their expressions show shock. They obviously weren't expecting that answer. Right then, looking upon their shocked faces, I realize what Jack meant.

I am not Brent anymore. The me I used to be didn't care what other people thought. I gave them me, and if they didn't like it, I told them to fuck off. But this Brent, the one I am now, is a lair and a manipulator. I have learned to lie and hide things, even though I was so good at it before. This Brent that I am now, is my father.

The Monster I Hide

Death is a promise, but your life is a fucking lie. My favorite band, Bring Me the Horizon, sang those very words in a song of theirs. My life is that of a ie. Everything I once knew, everything I once stood for has vanished from my soul. I have become the very monster I strive to forget: my father.

My whole life I have tried to be better, tried to succeed, something my father never did. I was a football star, a straight A student. I was a ladies man, someone everyone wanted to be. Now I am a cutter, a suicidal freak. Now I am my father.

I sit in my chair at group, this new realization hitting me hard.

"Brent, Brent," Victory whispers my name beside me. I dont reply. Instead my eyes drift across the room at the pairs of beating eyes that are upon my face.

"Brent," Mr. Corpse says. "are you okay?" I rest my gaze on his face, taking in his worried expression.

How can I possibly be okay when I just realized the monster that haunted my dreams is now me? How can I possibly go on when I just realized that I will never be more than a carbon copy of my father?

"I-I," I stutter a response, not knowing what to say. Am I okay? Am I really fine with what I have become? No. I will never be.

"C-can I step out for a moment? I need a minute to breathe." I say, rubbing my hands on my pants, suddenly sweating.

"Sure Brent. Just stay in this hallway." Mr. Corps replies, noticing my change in attitude. I nod and stand up, exiting the room. I place my head against the wall in the hallway, closing my eyes. A few seconds pass and I hear footsteps in the hallway. They come closer until she is standing next to me.

"Brent, are you okay?" Victory's delicious voice slithers into my ears. I open my eyes to stare at her worried expression.

I open my mouth to tell her Im fine and not to worry, but I stop myself. I will not lie to her.

"No," I reply. "Im not okay." She stares at me, waiting for more. "Victory I...Im just like my father." I whisper.

She shakes her head firmly. "No you are not Brent. you are nothing like him." For some reason I become angry with her response.

"Im not like him Victory? Really? You dont even know him, so how could you say that?" I begin to yell, the words flowing like acid from my lips. "He was a monster and so am I! Look at me Victory, Im not the same guy I was when we first met. Im a liar, a manipulator." I inch closer to her, my face inches away from hers. "I can make you think things you would never believe to be true." She staggers back a step, frightend. "See what I mean!" I shout, throwing my hands in the air. "Your scared of me."

She shakes her head, trying to calm herself. I notice her shaking hands. "Brent, Im not scared of you." She whispers.

"Oh really Victory?" She nods. I ball my hand into a fist, determind to show her just how dangerous I can be. With one swift movement I rear back my hand and punch the bare white wall, causing a hole to be left in its wake."Now are you scared?" I shout. Her expression crumbles and she begins to cry.

"Brent, stop. Dont do this!" She shouts between falling tears. My eyes widen. What have I done? I love Victory with everything bone in my body, with every fiber of my being. How could I do this to someone I love?

Tears begin to fall from my sadend eyes as I run down the hall to my room. I open the door swiftly, shoving myself inside. I hurry over to my dresser and pull out my blade, this time leaving the blood-stained rag behind. I wont be needing it.

I look at the silver blade, turning it in my hands. "Im so sorry Victory," I whisper. "I wont hurt you ever again." Slowly, I raise the blade to my neck and make one deep cut ear to ear. I fall to the ground, blood flowing from the gash in my neck. My eyes begin to close, darkness enclosing me. This is what I deserve. This is how I should die.

Lots of Blood

*Victory POV*


“Brent!” I shout, calling after him as he runs down the hall. Tears fall down his cheeks as he ignores me. What is wrong with him? What had I done to cause such a sudden outburst? I wipe away the falling tears and return to group.

“Where is Brent?” Mr. Corps asks.

“He ran down the hall,” I reply. “I think he went to his room.” Mr. Corps stands up abruptly.

“Jack!” He calls out. Jack enters the room within moments. “Get Mrs. May and tell her to come here and watch these kids. We need to go get Brent.”

Jack nods and exits the room. I start to breathe heavy. Why is Brent going to his room such a big deal? What could he possibly do in there? A few minutes pass and then Mrs. May is walking into the room. Mr. Corps and Jack run out of the room and down the hall. I can't stay here. I have to go with them, I have to see if Brent is alright.

I run out of the room, ignoring Mrs. May screaming my name. I hurry down the hall, each step bringing me closer to Brent. Once I finally reach his room the door is wide open and the scene in front of me leaves me gasping for air. I stumble to the floor, tears flowing from my eyes.

Brent is laying on the floor with a puddle of blood beneath him. There is a long, deep gash on his neck and a bloody blade lying beside him on the ground. His eyes are closed and his body isn't moving. He doesn't appear to be breathing either.

“No!” I shout, reaching out towards Brent's lifeless body. “Brent!” I shout again. Jack stands up and grabs a hold