Slashficbiches

Entry 1 Saturday. Pj killed himself a few weeks ago, the place has been even more quiet since. Chris is the one that has been affected the most by it. He won't talk, eat or look at anyone. The only time he made eye contact with me was when I asked him for a book I couldn't reach on top of his shelf. My arms were stiff  and sore from bandages. I attempted suicide again, but I was found before I died. Which sucked I supposed but what do I have to live for huh? I fail at everything including dying. I still feel like a ghost, but even more faded now. I've lost a lot of weight, the doctors say I could die at anytime. I don't care though, I think I

He was always dreaming. I don't think he ever stopped dreaming. He was trapped inside his own mind with no where to go. I could see him running the lengthy corridors that made up his terrorized head. Each had a room that branched off into a fear or a memory that he never wanted to see or remember again. The largest room though had ironically the biggest door. It was made with an ebony wood, with silver trims and a sign that was encrusted with moss and vines that read in scrawling capital letters: "BULLIES" He stopped just short of the door, he was poised, ready to turn back and run away. His chest was rising and falling sharply. He was never

I was going to the shops today. I needed some milk as I was all out and sometimes I could do with a milky coffee. On my way there in the bright morning sunshine I saw a man, he was in front of me by about 5 steps, big steps, he was tall. His backwards profile resembled so much of Dan's it was scary. The way his shoulders were placed, the awkward lankiness. Even how the hair was cut on his neck. He even had pierced ears and fashion that was almost the same as Dan's wardrobe. I kept walking, my shop just came into view, then I could avoid this man. But right at the last minute he turned and went into the store. I saw the side of his face. The j

The Tv tonight was pretty good. Supernatural, Bones and Doctor Who all on one after the other. "Hey Phil! Look whats on tonight!" I call into the silent apartment. I forgot it was only me there now...

I forgot the colour of his eyes. They were bright, but not too bright. Like a deer's. They were wide and full of life. But not for long. I can still see the reflection of the lights in them, flickering and dancing when he talked. I forgot the colour of his eyes, they were so lifeless and dull.

Sometimes I can still hear his voice. Like echoes on the wind, or when you're alone and you swear someone just called your name, but it turns out there was no one there. But it does sound like him, I'm not crazy, but, it is his voice, and I know it. You know when you have just finished your first relationship and you decide never to see that girl or guy again and after time you forget their face. Like you know they were a girl or a guy but it is the little things at first, like if they twiddled their thumbs, or playfully stuck their tongue out. Then you forget how tall they were and their general face shape. I can't remember his face, all I

I hadn’t been able to go to any ‘classes’ until Monday, which I was extremely grateful for. I hate to socialise, I know it’s bad but I don’t like contact with other people. Going to uni was bad enough and so was being put in a home for most of my childhood and now being put here in this bleach stinking Psychiatric hospital made me half insane. Thoughts of PJ still circulated in my mind, I felt sorry for him but at the same time happy. It was a weird feeling but with a mind like his I thought it was utterly fascinating. Although since that day he, well I dunno, I not sure how to put it. But you know what I mean.