85 What Do I Do?

    Regan curled back into a ball and rocked back and forth on the couch, fighting the urge to bite her fingernails.

    "What do I do then? WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO?!" She screamed, her hands raising up to her head and scratching wildly again, "I know what I did wrong, but what am I going to do to fix it?"

    Regan let out a laugh again, 'know what I did wrong? What do I know? I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHY I'M LIKE THIS and yet I'm trying to fix myself. Maybe that's what's pathetic about me. Maybe that's what he meant when he said those words¡­ the fact that I'm so lost that I can't even figure out if I have an issue or not.' Regan wiped her tears with her hands, a futile effort since the tears continued to roll down her cheeks. 'But then why didn't he try to help me? Why did he only push me down further? Am I not ruined enough? How much more of a mess do I need to become to be helped?'

    Regan glanced at the bottle of water on her bed and trudged from the couch to the chair and back.

    She flopped down on her couch and leaned her back against the comfy back of the couch, her eyes fixed on the pool of blood that had formed on the table.

    'Doesn't care about what I did in the past? What a lie. I look at myself in the mirror every day and feel like throwing up. My rugged overgrown dark amber hair, sunken eyes, and thin, tall, lanky figure with a deranged mindset to match. How in the world does that look like the me that smiled in front of tv cameras?' Regan scoffed, 'I'm just- so sick of waking up again. Why am I¡­ why was I even seen as someone to look up to. The best game developer? Haha, the reporters are probably taking a field day right now after finding out about my death. The world isn't stopping for me so why would I have to live?'

    Regan's eyes stayed locked on the pool of blood. 'Who would mind if I had a few slashes on my wrist? Who would care if I look like this the entire time? I know very well that they were all after my money anyway so it's the best thing for them if I'm like this. HAHAHA¡­ why am I even worried about this now?' Regan smiled, sliding off the couch and sitting down in front of the table, 'I know I'm a nutjob and I also know I'm pathetic. If only someone told me why I was like this.'

    She slammed her fist into the fork, breaking it into two and piercing herself with the broken pieces. A wave of pain washed over her, fueling her anger further to the point where her emotions overwhelmed the pain.

    "One of the best programmers in the world? The greatest gaming company?" Regan chuckled, "I don't deserve those titles. I don't even deserve to feel the need to be saved. When others called out to me¡­ I looked down at them and silenced their voices for life. It's about time I felt that pain myself."

    Regan laid her head down on the table, her eyes still fixed on the pool of blood.

    'Is it possible to drown myself in that?' Regan thought to herself. 'If I could just shrink myself¡­ down to the size of a fingernail, can I dive into that pool there and slowly let myself sink in my own blood. How would it feel?'

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