02 | Out of My Mind

T H E Y   T R Y   T O   S A V E   M E   B U T  
I ' M   T O O   F A R   G O N E  
A N D   T H E Y   C A L L   M E   C R A Z Y  
S O   I   P L A Y E D  
A L O N G

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0 2 .

O U T O F M Y M I N D

He envied death.

A wet and sticky red substance filled the sheets as Klaud's head lolled back; he took a swig of the cigarette, smoke coming out of his mouth in strange tendrils. The blade was still clutched in one hand, sharp cuts on his skin emptying their contents profusely.

He could almost picture her—the girl who had been haunting his dreams for months now.

Sasha.

The name itself spread fire into his veins and dilated his pupils. Each heartbeat thundered loudly at the thought of her. The love Klaud felt for Sasha was undeniable, and that had caused a sick obsession to blossom. Locks of hair framed on the wall, pictures scattered throughout the entire apartment complex, a used perfume bottle—the list was ceaseless.

Sighing, Klaud rolled off the couch and headed into the bathroom. Each step left a slimy red trail behind the boy as he reached the door, twisting the knob and stepping into the room. He dragged himself to the sink before bending over it and lifting his head to look up at his ragged reflection. Klaud's eyes wandered to the bathtub.

Things hadn't been the same since she was gone. There was no point in living now if she wasn't on this planet. No point. No point in living now.

The lukewarm water that had been bubbling overnight in the tub suddenly looked extremely inviting. All he had to do was sink in. Sink in and die. With his clothes still on, Klaud stepped into the vessel and relished in the sloshing of the liquid. Sloshing with blue. Sloshing with red.

Red, like the colour of Sasha's lipstick. Red, like his love for her. Red, like her blood, the sweet-tasting substance that had spilled when Klaud dragged the knife across her shining ivory skin and licked across the expanse of Sasha's chest.

He shouldn't have done that. Shouldn't have plunged the shiny metal blade into her soft skin, shouldn't have let the life fade away from her eyes. Klaud put his hands on his head and rocked back and forth, hoping to rid his mind of the sharp thoughts that continuously accused him of killing Sasha. But he had done it for a reason. A justified reason. Hadn't he?

As much as Klaud tried to reassure himself, his demons kept eating away at him. Sasha's curly brown hair, her warm eyes, her plump lips, her soft curves, her pale skin... they would forever be embedded into his memory.

He really shouldn't have killed her. But the endless times she had attempted to escape his love and affection eventually began to get on his nerves. He had done so much for this girl, and that was how she repayed him? Hitting, screaming, spitting—Klaud had gone through it all.

He just wanted her to love him back, was that too much to ask for? Granted, he shouldn't have taken her away so forcefully. Maybe he had overdone it with the chlorofoam and the duct tape, but at the time, Klaud had felt a connection. And he needed to have her. But she was in denial, had been, for months. The pain of being rejected slowly got to Klaud—

—and he had stabbed her.

"Sasha," he whispered again as he sank into the murky water.

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Klaud hadn't been able to do it. Within seconds, he had come back up, cursing and gasping for air. He ended up just sitting there, tears and water mixing together as he curled into himself and sobbed.

The boy only wanted a quiet suicide. He wanted death. Most of all, he wanted Sasha. The colours swirled around Klaud as he took a quick glance at the clock, only to find that it was already late in the evening. Another day, wasted.

His heavy clothes clung onto his body and dragged him down as he climbed out of the tub and slipped onto the hard tile floor, his nose hitting the ground with a resounding crack. Klaud took the pain in gladly, happy that at least he felt something other than the emptiness that now resided in him.

He wondered how pitiful he looked currently, blood trickling down his nose and scars bleeding out on his arms. Crawling out of the room, he laid down on the corridor and let the sharp cold of the air hit him.

"At least..." Klaud croaked to himelf, "at least I still have a piece of her."

He was referring to her dead body, of course. Pulling himself upright, Klaud trudged towards the room at the end of the hallway—Sasha's room—and opened the door. It had only been a day, so he was glad to see that she still remained intact, as beautiful and as ethereal as she had looked the first time he saw her.

She was laid out on the bed, eyelids shut, skin cold. Just like how she appeared when he killed her. A red stain was visible on the flimsy nightgown Sasha was currently wearing that Klaud had gifted her. Nothing took away from the fact that she was dead, but at least he would still get to feel her.

And feel her he did.

The crave got too much, and he trailed his fingers down the milky skin of her arm. With her soft lips still parted in a silent scream, Klaud bent his head down to kiss her. Cold flesh greeted him, but he continued to push his tongue down into her mouth, exploring the once-warm cavern that was the inside of her jaw. Klaud scraped past her teeth and her walls, eventually coming to rest at her tongue. He toyed around with it for a while, flicking and sucking in a mock battle of dominance. There was no response, of course, but it was enough for Klaud's arousal to flare.

Gulping in deep breaths, he lifted her nightgown to see a stab wound. One he had caused.

The blood was still fresh, and Klaud wasted no time before lowering his head to lap at the liquid. Sweetness filled his taste buds, and with each lick, it got him craving for more. If the wound was any deeper, Klaud would have dove his head in to devour her guts; anything of Sasha's was his.

With a big sigh, he moved onto her breasts. They were delicate, cold globes of flesh that he palmed and flicked. Sasha was, of course, dead silent—and it didn't take long for him to move on. Gently caressing her face in one hand, Klaud unzipped his pants and moved his hand up and down his member.

"I'm sorry," Klaud began sobbing, "sorry, so sorry..."

But he couldn't stop himself from penetrating her womanhood and claiming her once intact virginity. Klaud didn't have the guts to do it while Sasha was alive, so piercing through her now was his only chance at a twisted idea of closure.

He finished hard and fast. That night, he couldn't sleep.

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Over the months, Klaud had become accustomed to staring at the drab brown of his ceiling. Tonight was no different. After touching Sasha, he had suddenly felt sick, and he had entered the bathroom to puke out his last digested meal. To put it simply, Klaud felt digusting; he couldn't believe he had just raped Sasha's corpse.

This prompted Klaud to try to kill himself again, and this time, he swore on her deathbed that he would suceed.

Looking out of the giant glass panes that served as his windows, Klaud glimpsed flashing lights and cars.

Right... cars. Why hadn't he thought of that? Easy and simple. All the boy had to do was walk out into the chaos of the streets and get run over. It was brilliant.

Trepidation in his steps, Klaud all but hurled himself out the door and towards the busy road as lights flashed and his mind reeled to a stop. As though he was on autopilot, Klaud walked right in front of a rushing silver Ford Mustang that was clearly driving over the speed limit. He braced himself for the impact.

Klaud was ready to meet Sasha.

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Except he never did. Because even though a sickening crunch resounded into the night as Klaud collapsed to the floor in a pitiful heap of soaking clothes and stained blood, he was, in reality, barely hurt.

But his lover, "Sasha..." he moaned in agony. Klaud truly had nothing to live for now. He would soon become a limp pile of skin and bones, a shell of his former self.

Gravel suddenly crunched next to him, and with a start, his eyes popped open, regarding the person in front of him with great curiosity. A devilish smile and wispy strands of shoulder-length hair framed the girl's pale innocent face, but the glint in her eyes told Klaud she was of his breed: trouble.

"I'm afraid you have the wrong person," she retorted confidently, but even that could not betray the nervous underlying tone in her voice.

Klaud tried to think straight. He hadn't interacted with anyone outside of Sasha for the past few years, "You're not Sasha..." was all he knew how to say as he gaped.

And suddenly, rage and denial. He knew it... knew it couldn't have been himself who had killed Sasha. It had to be this criminal currently standing in front of him.

"Where is she? Did you hurt her?" he snapped loudly.

The girl only sneered condescendingly, "What? You're pining for a girl? That's the most mindless thing in the world to get jacked up for."

Humiliated and degraded, Klaud grunted. This did not seem to be the answer the woman had been looking for, as not a second later, he felt a kick to his ribs and sharp pain in his abdomen area.

Piercing words followed along, "You seem good at tolerating pain. I'm not surprised, you're probably a masochist. Sick and disgusting scum."

That was true. She had described him almost perfectly, and Klaud grinned in agreement.

A brief silence struck their strange conversation. It was not awkward—rather, it only seemed to spark the thrill of the situation.

The girl looked deep in thought. Finally, after a while, she crossed her arms over her chest, "You would be good for my team. Just make sure to stay out of trouble and I'll take you in," as an afterthought, she added, "not like that Sasha's going to want you back."

So she wanted him to join her on a road trip. He had nothing to live for, so why not head along this obviously suicidal quest? But when the girl had mentioned Sasha, he suddenly felt the regret and remorse coursing through him once more, clouding his judgement. He had to focus on her at all times, or she would feel unloved. She needed attention, and Klaud desperately wanted to give her that. He had to... had to...

Nothing. Had to nothing. He was ready to let go.

With a predatory smile, he introduced himself, "Klaud."

"April," she said as helped him up.

"It's a deal," Klaud returned.

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