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Musicians/Music Groups Fan Fiction >> Avenged Sevenfold

The following is a work of fiction. Any statements regarding any person, place, or other entity (real or imaginary) is the sole responibility of the author of this work of fiction. Fan Works Inc. takes no responsibility for the content of user submitted stories. All stories based on real people are works of fiction and do not necessarily reflect on the nature of the individuals featured. All stories based on other copyrighted works are written with authors knowing that these works violate copyright laws.

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The Cause
By Dae

 


T h e C a u s e

A short story

Featuring Jimmy Sullivan

"I could tell you a million things right now. I could choose to tell you what I believe would make you feel better, less negative at least. But that way I would let you live a lie. I'm going to be honest with you, Jimmy."

I tapped my fingers subconsciously on the table in front of me. Vaguely I heard what the psychiatrist said, somewhere in between the constant screaming in my head. I am the cause of all misery. I am the cause of all pain. I am the cause of all depression. I am the cause of each and every death.

"You're not okay, Jimmy. You're obviously not. We all know. You know. I don't think anybody will deny that. Never mind how much I hate to tell you this, but that is why they made this decision. You're a danger to yourself and society."

My skin was rough and dry, my hair greasy. My head was heavy and I was tired. I used to care but I did not anymore. I am the cause of this person's misery. I am the cause of the long trial and the cause of the long hours all these people made. I am the cause of their broken relationships because they were never there when they needed to. I am the cause of my own broken relationship.

"I've told you last week about your trial. Back then we were still in the middle of it. I'm not going to make this any harder for you; you'll be in prison until the day you die."

I honestly did not care. Behind the glass door I saw my mother. She did care. She was crying. She was screaming. She was trying to reach to the door but was pulled back by security. I wished I cared. I wanted to care at that moment. I wanted to be filled wit rage. I wanted to push my chair aside and get to my mother. I wanted her to know I loved her. But truthfully I did not know if I still did. I was not even sorry. I am the cause of your pain. I am the cause of your heart breaking. I am the cause of your life crashing down. I am the cause of all those nightmares to come.

"Do you have any questions left, Jimmy?"

I shook my head no, I had stopped speaking altogether about a month ago, after I told him my story. I was nothing, I had no purpose anymore. He stood up, ready to end this conservation. The guard pulled me up because I did not have any energy for that; I felt like complete nothingness. I was going to be put away to rot to death.

Suddenly I lunged forward and grabbed the psychiatrist's shoulders. I shook them, looking in his eyes. The guard however got my hands back on my back in a few seconds.

"I'm sorry." I spoke, my voice raw and hoarse because of the lack of usage of my vocal chords. I coughed. "I'm sorry I fucked up. Could you tell her I am so extremely sorry I won't ever be home again. I'm sorry I won't be there to raise our little girl. I'm so, so sorry." By now tears were cascading down my cheeks, stinging the dry skin. I had been wrong. I did care. Oh, how wrong had I been. "I am the cause of all the pain she'll feel in the future and I am so sorry."

I glanced at the door window. My mother was gone. How I hoped she would know I did care. I am the cause. I am the cause. I am the cause.

"Jimmy, listen." I am the cause. Now the psychiatrist's hands were on my shoulders. I am the cause. I am the cause. He looked straight in my eyes, his expression serious. I tried to concentrate but the voice in my head was only gaining in volume. I am the cause. I am the cause. I am the cause. "Your wife and daughter… They are…" his expression softened. "Never mind, Jimmy. Thanks for sharing your life with me. I wish you the best of luck. I suggest you write a lot. I will certainly write you." I am the cause. I am the cause. I am the cause. I started to sweat.

"Will I be able to write my girls?"

He frowned before biting his lip. "Sure."

Silence. Perfect silence filled my head for a few moments at this happy news, before crashing back into my brains. I AM THE CAUSE- I AM THE CAUSE- I AM THE CAUSE- I AM THE CAUSE.

I left the room and was brought to one of the many cells in the building. I AM THE CAUSE- I AM THE CAUSE- I am the cause- I am the cause- I am the cause…

The psychiatrist sat back down again, put his head in his hands. He was filled with guilt. I was gone. One of his colleagues showed up, having watched the whole conversation from behind what seemed a mirror, but was actually a sneaky window of truth.

"Are you alright?" the psychiatrist nodded silently, waved the other formal questions with his right hand. He answered what was not asked: "Because he broke down. He is mentally completely instable. If I told him he will put a gun to his head."

"Aren't we better off that way?"

"I will not be the cause to his death when he is of no threat in jail."

"The guy killed his girlfriend and daughter! He will not be able to write to them! What are you gonna do? Answer the letters he sends them? He is a murderer!"

I am the cause.

 

The preceeding was a work of fiction. Any statements regarding any person, place, or other entity (real or imaginary) is the sole responibility of the author of this work of fiction. Fan Works Inc. takes no responsibility for the content of user submitted stories. All stories based on real people are works of fiction and do not necessarily reflect on the nature of the individuals featured. All stories based on other copyrighted works are written with authors knowing that these works violate copyright laws.

Please see the Terms of Service for more information.

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