TITLE. The Fatal Wound
AUTHOR. Terri. aka.. me.
RATING. R for... self-harm.
PAIRING. Ryden. durr.
SUMMARY. That feeling, there it is again. The one that cuts to the bone and tears your insides apart. He’s shaking from unshed tears, unvoiced fears and the weight of every mistake he’s ever made. Every moment in his life is spent faking happiness or drowning in that feeling. Every waking moment he feels sick to his stomach because he knows he’ll never be good enough. It’s either no one is listening to him, or everyone decides to take it all personally.
NOTES. Okay, so the title is a little dramatic. Everyone on my flist is going to hate me for this. But seriously, if you're sensitive to stuff like self-harm, don't read it. Please note: I was in a bad mood the day I did this. But I liked the idea, and some of the phrases. Please don't go all ape shit on me about the issue I presented. It's a personal thing, and the kids on my flist know that. Also, if you haven't already please take a look at twloha.org; the website for To Write Love On Her Arms. It's an important issue, one that many people don't take seriously. Read the site to find out more about it. And I know a lot of you might have checked it out because of Ryan, and that's amazing. So please, just look. /ramble.
DEDICATIONS. Gina. She writes random stuff for me constantly. Ruth and Ami. They're such sweethearts. Emmie. She's been there through thick and thin. One year, baby.
DISCLAIMER. I own neither Panic! At The Disco nor Brendon and Ryan personally. As far as I know, this never happened. Cut text/title from Switchfoot (I'M SEEING THEM IN TWO WEEKS!!! lasjfalsffla!!!!)
[Does it have to start with a broken heart, broken dreams and bleeding parts?]