Runaway With Me, Alice

Into My Imagination

"When you're broken in a million little pieces. And you're tryin' but you can't hold on anymore. Every tear falls down for a reason. Don't you stop believin' in yourself. When you're broken..”

Broken …

That’s exactly what I was.

Broken …

Unable to be fixed.

My heart pounded in my chest, but I couldn't pin point the reason. The wind whipped around me, but I felt nothing.

Numb …

I let the smoke from my cigarette curl out between my lips, drifting with the wind.

I wanna drift with the wind …

My head dropped between my arms as I allowed the wind to wash over me once more. It was a bitter comfort. I didn't deserve it. Who would want to comfort me? I was unable to fixed. No one wanted someone broken. I mean, how long did one hold onto a toy that was broken? Probably, what, five minutes before it was thrown away? That was what I wanted to feel. I wanted to be thrown away.

I stared down at my wrists. The white bandages were spotted in crimson. My heart thumped erratically as the memory flooded me, bringing that day back full force.

Flashback Begins

"That was the worst performance I have ever seen. What is wrong with you? You missed almost every single note Tom,”

Jost yelled.

I just blinked. I had no answer. Since I didn't know why I had messed up so bad. I couldn't think, concentrate. I didn't want to try. My mind was blank. That was how it had been for sometime. And no one noticed. My hand twitched on impulse. But no one saw, since they were shoved in my hoodie pocket. I could feel the surge of pain rush threw me, and I fought off the need to run. If I ran, I was pretty sure someone would chase me down. I wrapped my hand around my bruised and battered wrist, feeling all the tiny scars from the multiple cuts I had made. My lips twitched with the thought of the blade, and the bliss it would bring me. My eyes glazed over as I felt the slick, crimson red blood run down my arm, pooling onto the floor. I let my eyes drift shut. I fluttered them open in time to see the curious look consume Jost's features.

"Just go Tom,” he said, making a gesture between a wave and a dismissal flick.

I jumped, a little too eagerly, from the chair and made a dash for the door. I yanked it open and started running. Not once did I stop ‘til I was panting and shaking in my hotel room. I stood and made my way to the bathroom. I flicked the light on, and the once dark room filled with florescent lighting. I squinted and cringed with the bright lights. I gave my eyes a few seconds to adjust before dropping to my knees and reaching back behind the toilet. No one bothered to look behind there, and I knew that. I groped around ‘til my hand brushed the coarse material of the washcloth. I gripped it and dragged it out from its hiding place. The pain was overwhelming and I could feel the tears slowly fall, each making a soft sound as it hit the tile floor. A few landed on my hand, but I was too consumed with stopping the hurt that I never took complete notice. I sat back and dropped onto my ass, putting my back to the wall. I slowly unfolded the washcloth, revealing the blood – crusted blade confined within it.

I sat it aside and gripped the hem of my hoodie, pulling it up over my head. I placed it to the side, not wanting to ruin it with my actions. I brushed my finger along my wrist, finding a spot that was not already scarred over. I pressed lightly down on the skin, watching as it turned white before the color returned. I clenched my fist and held it closed, while I gripped the blade with the other hand. I brought it down to the flesh and pressed. I felt the sting as it entered my skin, and the very first trickles of blood run. I let my head lull back and thump against the wall as I slowly drug it across my arm, forming a perfectly straight line. I felt the blood run, and I let the blade go. I released my fist and just breathed. I felt no pain. I felt no hurt. All those emotions washed out of me as I let the blood flow. I looked over at my other wrist, locating the spot with my eyes. I gripped the blade and placed it to my flesh once again. I felt the sting and then pure bliss as I drug another perfectly straight line along my opposite wrist.

I sat there, just letting all my anger, hurt, pain, run down my arm with the crimson fluid. I couldn't stop, nor did I want to stop, as the tears fell. My head spun and the room became hazy, like it was filling up with fog. I blinked, but everything just glazed over. I closed my eyes and breathed, noticing that it was becoming difficult. A small smile formed on my lips as the blissful feeling ran through me, warming me to the bone. I heard the bathroom door creak open and I mentally cursed myself for not locking it. I heard a distinct gasp and someone drop beside me. I felt tears fall before the person spoke. His voice was soft, the hurt and fear evident in his voice. The voice that belonged to my Bill.

"Tomi .. why…?” he whispered before his arms fell around me and he pulled me into his lap. I felt pressure on my arms as the distinct sound of his cell being flipped open was heard. I could hear him talking, but I wasn't too sure what he was saying. My eyes blurred further, the fogging look enveloping me. And then, everything went black.

Flashback Ends

The tears fell from my eyes as I recalled every last detail of that night. I, subconsciously, scratched at the bandages. I had caused such a panic when the ambulance arrived for me. I could remember Bill telling me that I had lost a lot of blood, that I had cut myself pretty deep. I remember everyone coming to see me for the time I was held at the hospital. Mom, Gordon, Jost and the other executives of the record label wanted to have me committed. But Bill fought it, told them he could take care of me, that he would take me away and help me. But I couldn't be helped. I couldn't be fixed. And he didn't see that. He refused to see that.

I turned, abruptly, and ripped the sliding door open. It smacked and bounced slightly on its track, but I could have cared less. I grabbed the bandages on my wrists once more, tearing them off and tossing them to the ground. The wounds had yet to heal and I rubbed the stitches, hoping to tear them open. I ran for the bathroom, the internal pain gripping at me, tearing me apart. I dropped down and dug through the cabinet under the sink, looking for Bill's bag. He carried a small pair of nail scissors in there. I located it and ripped it out, knocking a few items out of the cabinet in the process. I kicked them to the sides as I unzipped the bag, my hands trembling slightly. I dug through it, furiously looking. I wanted to be numb. I wanted to feel nothing. I needed that release. My fingers brushed the cool metal and I pulled them out, letting Bill's bag drop to the ground, all the contents spilling out. I looked up at the mirror above the sink and I didn't even see me. I didn't see Tom Kaulitz. I saw hurt. I saw pain. I saw someone not worth the love and admiration he was given. I pulled the scissors open, holding it so the sharp edges can easily be pulled across my skin. I looked down, seeing the recent cut marks, and wanted to vomit. I held the scissors to my wrist and closed my eyes.

"No, Tomi,” a voice said, but I didn’t hear.

I started as a pair of manicured hands enclosed over mine, keeping me from going through with the act. I struggled, trying to free my hands from his grip; but, he tightened his grip around me. His arms were secured around my waist and slowly, he began to pull me from the sink and towards the door. I struggled again.

"No Bill. Let me do this. I want to feel numb. I need to feel it. I need this. I need this,” I wailed.

He never flinched. He continued to walk me backwards. Each step he took furthered me from the sink. I felt his hands grip mine, and attempt to pry them open. He wanted the scissors. My body trembled against his as he continued to take my only comfort from me. His breath ghosted along my ear, and I could feel his lips move along the shell. “You don't need this, Tomi. You can get through this. You can be happy.”

I wailed once more, trying to move my arms to elbow him; but, his grip was too tight against me. So tight that I couldn't move a centimeter. His fingers made their way into my enclosed hands, and he swiftly pulled the scissors from me. The moment the little metal release was pulled from my grasp, I spun to face him. I swung as hard as I could, catching him in the jaw. I heard the ‘thunk’ of his body hit the ground and I lunged, the anger in me boiling out. I swung and swung, hitting him anywhere I could.

"I can't be happy. I can't be happy. I can't be happy,” I screamed out as I continued to pound down on him. I felt his body flinch with each blow I delivered to him. I could hear the cries of pain, but I ignored them, my anger causing me to see red.

My body ached from excursion, and I slowly fell forward, my body falling onto his. I could feel his tears against my skin and my heart ached. My fists fell limp as I finally gave into exhaustion. My breathing was shallow; I couldn't get my heart to slow down. The ache ran through, causing my body to tense and jerk. I felt Bill move and shift below me, and slowly, his arms wrapped around me, holding me to his body. I could feel his chest heave with each sob as he let his own emotions run free. Listening to how hurt and scared he sounded, I could no longer hold it all in. And with one last shaky breath, I allowed my tears to fall with his. I wrapped my arms around him as best as I could.

"Why Tomi. Why do you do this…?” he whispered, and my heart broke at how small he sounded. I buried my face into his chest, shaking with each sob that escaped me. “Please Tomi. Talk to me. Please.” His pleas for me to talk fell on deaf ears. I couldn't give him a reason or even a simple response. I didn't know what to tell him. “Please…” he begged one more time.

I inhaled and looked up, finding his bloody and bruised face staring at me. I could see the hurt and fear etched into ever beautiful crease. I did that to him. I put that hurt and fear there. My body lurched and pulled from his grip, turning and emptying my stomach contents onto the floor. I heard the sound of jeans rubbing and soon his hands were on my back, rubbing soothing circles. My body jerked again, but nothing came up. His arms wrapped my waist once more and he pulled me back, sliding us to across the floor. He slowly lowered me, placing my head into his lap, his fingers immediately falling into my hair, running across the exposed skin.

"Why do you do this to yourself?” he gently asked.

I shook and inhaled, filling myself with his scent. “I want to be numb. I need to be numb. I don't want to feel anymore,” I whispered.

"Why? What don't you want to feel anymore?”

Silence passed between us.

"It hurts.”

Another silence fell.

Then, he said, “What hurts?”

"My heart.”

I heard him take a breath. His fingers twitched as he continued to run them through my hair. “We can fix this.”

I tensed and tried to pull away, but he gently held me in place. He hummed softly. “We can't fix this Bill…” I whispered.

His hands stopped and he shifted again, turning me so I was looking up at him. “Why not, Tomi?”

"I can't be fixed,” I whispered.

"Why not?” he pressed on. He wanted an answer of some sort. I took another breath and closed my eyes. I knew why. It was simple and obvious. I couldn't understand how he didn't see it.

"Because I am broken,” I answered. He grabbed my hands softly and pulled, bringing me up to sit facing him. His hands went directly to my wrist and he gingerly traced all the scars, old and new. He looked back up and my eyes filled with tears.

"Everything that is broken can be fixed; and, I want to be the one to fix you, Tomi. I need you to be alright,” he spoke, the words drilling into me. Bill wanted to help me. He wanted to fix me. Was it even possible to fix me? What if I was too far broken that I couldn't be mended? I knew he saw the questions flash through me, because within seconds he was pulling me to him. He wrapped his bruised arms around me, holding me to him. I could hear his heart beat, soft and gentle. Just like he was. His hands ran the length of my back and back up, soothing me to his best ability. I could feel the heat fall from his body as he continued his gentle ministrations. I heard the intake of breath and then a gentle voice. “Everything that is broken can be fixed. And we will fix you. Because we need you. I need you. I need you.”

"When you're broken in a million little pieces. And you're tryin' but you can't hold on anymore. Every tear falls down for a reason. Don't you stop believin' in yourself. When you're broken..”

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