Writing Diary of a Broken Boy [M- LSV]

[Patronus]

[U]The Diary of a Broken Boy- Day One.[/U]

The smoke suffocated me as it twisted around my body and eventually into my nostrils- but I didn?t resist it. I could see the embers of the cigarette burning in the ashtray on the nightstand. The fingers it had once been between had forgotten about it, left it to dwindle away to ashes, just as he had forgotten about me.

I sat in the dark room alone. Well, not physically alone, but emotionally- the body in the bed saw me as nothing, an object. I was naked because I couldn?t find the strength to get up and find my clothes.

So I just sat there. I sat there with nothing- no pride, no love, no emotion. I couldn?t bring myself to cry, even if I had enough reasons to release the tears. I just couldn?t, not right now.

I looked back at him. He was sleeping peacefully, the blanket tightly wound over his midriff. I wonder what he was dreaming about- money, fame, someone who he could actually love?

I had walked into something I had never known, and it is human fact that man is afraid of the unknown. That?s why it happened the way it did, I think. Maybe that?s why I was willing when we began, but as his body leaned into mine, as we became one for that short period of time, I became a bystander watching a car wreck. It wasn?t something I wanted to do- but I did it anyways. And maybe, for once in my life, I had taken a chance.

It took all of my being to make me get up and find my clothes- which I did in under a minute-and dress. I walked over to the nightstand, picked the cigarette up between my fingers, and pressed it to my lips- as he had done to me earlier. The smoke invaded my lungs ruthlessly, but I found some sort of satisfaction in the killer.

I smothered the cigarette?s flame and went to the door, looking back one last time before I left.

[U]The Diary of a Broken Boy- Day Two.[/U]

I felt the liquor flood my throat and burn my soul, but it did its job. It made me feel better- even only for a quick fix. I felt his hand on my back and his lips on my neck, and I was lost again. Lost in pain and in fury- not in love. Because I knew what he was doing. And because I knew I would let him do it. And in some messed up way, I liked it.

That night, he entered me with such fierce intentions that I cried for the first time in a long time- but he didn?t notice. Of course he didn?t notice, because when he was finished, he pulled out and said his thanks, but not in so many words.

I rolled over and pulled the sheets over my naked body. I fell asleep quickly because I wanted to leave a world that didn?t need me.


[U]The Diary of a Broken Boy- Day Three.[/U]

The cigarette?s fire reflected in the gold wedding band on his finger, as my body lay on top of his. He wasn?t finished with me yet- which, in a way, made me feel better. But not for long. My gaze fixed on the ring on his finger and I wondered about his wife. About his children. Surely, he remember their names with ease. And surely, he loved them.

But he couldn?t even utter my name when we were together.

If I had had the chance, I would?ve fallen in love with him. This man, this glory of a man, made me feel so fantastic when we were fucking. But only then. Afterwards, he smiled at me with a fake composure, and I was left to wonder what I was and if I was worth anything.

He let out a long moan, and, in a parade of moments, his love flowed into me- forced or not. He pushed me off of him, turned to his side, and took a puff of his smoke.

I washed him off me with a tissue from a box on the nightstand, and I sat on the edge of the bed without only myself to comfort me. With only myself to tell me I was worth something, that I meant something to someone, something other than a cheap fuck.

But soon I realized, I was lying to myself.

I got up and walked over to where my jeans were thrown- the same spot in the same hotel room for the third night. From the pocket, I drew the razorblade.

The bathroom door slammed shut behind me. I looked at myself in the mirror like I had the night before, but this time, I admired myself. I?d never been afraid of death, because until then, I had lived life to the fullest. I had parents that loved me- I had friends who wanted to be me- I had boyfriends who weren?t worthy of my presence.

I had found one man that I wanted. One man that could make me complete. And that man hadn?t known my name, and that man hadn?t know my feelings, and that man used my body as a shrine for lust.

But I didn?t care now.

My right wrist began to bleed.

And I wouldn?t care after tonight.

My left wrist began to bleed.

And he never had cared.

The blood flowed down my chest.

My eyes became useless, my breath became nonexistent, and I stopped living. The door opened.

He held my bloody body to his, rocking back and forth. In that moment, he whispered three words quietly.

[I] I loved you.[/I]

[Stuart]

[FONT=Trebuchet MS][COLOR=RoyalBlue]Wow. This story had me hooked straight from the begining and I had to go on with reading it all. The descriptive words you've used really made it enjoyable. The story itself is very depressing, but beautifully written. The point was well made and very clear. The somewhat poem like ending was a perfect way to finish it off. Like I said earlier; beautifully written.[/COLOR][/FONT]

[James]

[font=franklin gothic medium]Very well written, but I can't help feeling that there must be more to this character than what we're being shown here. I mean, is this character just committing suicide because he isn't getting love from this man? Surely there's more to it than that. Or maybe he isn't getting love at all and desperately wants it?

I guess it makes me feel a bit torn - in some respects I don't feel any sympathy for this character at all, because if he's getting involved with a married man, then surely he knows he'll always come off second best. No two ways about it. On the other hand, perhaps he's naive and perhaps there's more to his life than this story suggests. In that sense, it's a little easier to feel sympathy for him, because he only wants love...and I guess everyone deserves that.[/font]

[Patronus]

[quote name='James][font=franklin gothic medium']Very well written, but I can't help feeling that there must be more to this character than what we're being shown here. I mean, is this character just committing suicide because he isn't getting love from this man? Surely there's more to it than that. Or maybe he isn't getting love at all and desperately wants it?[/font][/quote]

There is more to him then I have written.

I believe in order to truly captivate readers, you have to have a certain aspect of mystery. Because- no matter who you are- you get intrigued by things you don't know. And then, because you're so pulled into the mystery, you read on and pay attention.

Handy little thing, ain't it?

Oh, and the boy's name is Tyler. That's all the more you're going to know about him. lol.

[James]

[QUOTE=Patronus]

I believe in order to truly captivate readers, you have to have a certain aspect of mystery. Because- no matter who you are- you get intrigued by things you don't know. And then, because you're so pulled into the mystery, you read on and pay attention.

[/QUOTE]

[font=franklin gothic medium]I think it's probably just that we are only seeing one thing at this point and there do not appear to be any indications of other factors/causes. As a result, it tends to lead one to believe that he committed suicide only due to the romantic relationship that he's in.

So if I were to give advice on this piece, I'd say that perhaps you could provide some more subtle hints about other aspects of his life that may have influenced his suicide. Even then, without knowing the full story, a seed will have been planted in readers' minds.

Nevertheless, I thought this was a good, well-written piece. It'd definitely be interesting to see it fleshed out further.[/font]