Title: World So Cold

Author: "Solus Nemo"

Summary: She was dragged down from the start, all she needed was someone to silence the laughter...

Rating: PG-13 (language and themes)

Pairing(s): None.

Feedback: Desired. Flames, as always, are welcome.

Author's notes: I must warn you, this story contains self mutilation and [possibly graphic] suicidal themes. If you're upset by graphic violence, possible strong language, and/or suicide... I suggest that you don't read this. If you didn't pay any attention to what I just typed down and go on reading this, only to have the contents of your stomach rise up and out of your mouth, please don't sue me... I'll just sue you back for not paying attention to warnings.

This is a --standalone-- songfiction to the song "My Eyes" by Life Of Agony (fooled you). If this fanfic is long and you don't like it being long, tough cookies. Also, this could end up being OOC, I doubt it though... but you never know.

Because I don't have Windows Word, and my HTML tags don't want to work on this site... the lyrics will be in something that looks a heck of a lot like this: * and spaced oddly. I apologize profusely for having to do that.

Disclaimer: I own nothing and no one in this story. The events in this fanfiction are not true, only a product of my twisted mind. The "Degrassi" series and anything else mentioned within this story is/are the sole property of its/their respective owner(s).


The girl sat at the edge of her bed, elbows resting on knees and face in hands. How long she has been crying she doesn't know. She was thinking about her life; how hollow and cold it had always been, how it always will be. Her soul has been bleeding since she could remember, what can cure it has never come to be. Countless times she'd told herself that there's nothing wrong with wanting to be loved, but countless times she'd been stabbed in the back and had been let down. Trust had been ripped from her person years ago, self-loathing and depression filling the void left behind.

*A little older, little wiser

With every breath I learn just a little more

And with all I've seen, I've finally made up my mind*

She'd made mistakes just like everyone else, but unlike everyone else those mistakes would always cost her everything. Lies had been fed to her since day one; lies that built the foundation of her pointless existence, lies that erected a wall around her and kept people out, lies that were now eating her alive. No one knew what it was like inside of her mind, no one could understand her, and no one tried to help her. They kept saving her but, they didn't really care, they only wanted her around for the sake of gloating. Not like she cared, eventually she'd get something right. Eventually she'd be able to get out of this place.

Trapped at the bottom of a hole she couldn't get herself out. Instead, she would put on a mask to hide behind, acting like everything was okay when it was far from. The words people sliced her with had scarred her deeply, leaving lasting memories of everything they'd ever done to her. Being a loner was the only thing she's ever truly known. Being used and tossed away the only things, sadly, that she's ever been able to count on.

The reason for her still breathing was never clear. She was just seemingly there to be a punching bag for everyone and anyone; she was just there for people to scream at, to take out every last aggression they had on her. She had gotten familiar with the cycle long ago, learning that anyone befriending her was just a way for them to take something from her... eventually they would have nothing left to take.

*Enough of this world

Enough blood in these eyes

So, so, so sick of this life*

Weak, she is. She always found herself falling into trap after dreadful trap, her demons gripping her tighter than before. Nothing that she ever did was good enough, she could never be what anyone wanted her to be, and she could never find anything that could mend her wounds. Long ago she gave up trying to fight, finding no point in trying to break out of the mold everyone put her in. Long ago she came to realize that nothing she could do would ever stop her pain, except one thing that she can never seem to accomplish.

Somewhere along the line, maybe from the beginning, she came to learn that trust was not an option. Trust, a hideous thing much like love, was a lie; trust is the reason why she was like this.

*It's about time that I realized

Release this hate from inside

Enough blood in my eyes*

She hated people with every fiber of her being, yet wanted nothing more than someone to care about her. Needs like this caused many sleepless nights, followed by feeble attempts of washing away the pain as blood flowed out of her body. It was useless, trying to deny the fact that what she wanted was the monster she loathed. In her mind love, like God, did not exist.

If there really was a God, why did she have to keep living through this pain? Many people, claiming to be suicidal, would tell her that things would get better. Apparently they never had to go through a day filled with emptiness; for if they did, they would never speak those "hopeful" words. Those words were part of the reason why she needed to leave, leave and never confront the ugly face of life again.

What she really needed was someone to believe in, but that would never happen. Love was something that could never be. Unlike most people she knew what love really was, she knew that love was hate and misery in disguise. Nothing could ever bring forth as much torment and pain than love. Yet, deep down, all she wanted was someone to love her and to love in return. Many times she had tried to swallow her fears and tell the boys she liked that she fancied them, only to be laughed at and dragged further down into the blackness.

*Call it what you will

Call it suicide

Disregard how you feel

I'm just freeing my mind*

The razor blade fell to the floor in a last stitch effort to rid her anger. Her body was covered in scars, words and constant triggers of shame. Yet, as horrible as she always felt when she saw the lines, she could never make herself stop cutting. It was a drug to her, the only way to make feelings go away for a short time. Right now she couldn't see how slicing a section of skin was going to drain her of the amount of despair, fear and worthlessness she was feeling... she needed to find another way.

She laughed softly remembering all the suicide attempts under her belt; pills, knives, bridges, ropes, poisons, guns, drowning... and they always saved her. They would all yell at her to do it, to end it all and get away from them, but they'd be the ones who would bring her to the hospital. It never failed. They wanted her to stop bleeding on their white tennis shoes but, when the chance of clean shoes came they would find her and bring her back into the constant pain and suffering.

*Clench my teeth as I sleep

So, so, so sick of this life

Cannot take, cannot fake

Can't shake this blood from these eyes*

People had no idea what she was going through. Most people save very few would tell her that suicide was the cowards way out, that it was a permanent solution to a temporary problem. Sixteen years on earth and every day sent her further down the hole. The second that she'd think that she hit rock bottom, the ground would give way and she'd continue to fall. These people never had to go through blinding depression. They never opened their eyes to the real world and saw what life really is.

With her father in another province and her mother at work, she stood up. "I don't why I try. Someone will find me and whisk me off to the Emergency Room like so many times before. But I have to put a stop to this; I can't and won't let everyone treat me like they do. I won't be hurt again." She said aloud, speaking mainly to her inner demons. "For the first time of my life I'll be free of you, I'll be happy... The voices can finally cease."

*All I have and all I will be

Nevertheless I'll live for all eternity

'Cause you can't erase my words, can't erase my mind

You can't wipe out my thoughts

Can't shake this blood from my eyes

So, so, so don't even try*

Letters have been sitting in her desk drawer for ages, retrieved from the trash can of the therapists' offices and many never read. She went and fetched one; the one neatly written on the stationary, the one she poured her heart and soul into. Putting it into a blank envelope and stuffing it into her pant's pocket she made her way into her bathroom. After grabbing a fresh razor blade the girl hurried down to the ground floor and into the garage.

The doors and windows were all closed except the door she entered through, which she soon closed. Her mother always left the keys in her car, so that's the car the teenager went to. The car doors were unlocked, two windows down and the new car smell still hanging in the air. She get into the Volvo, shutting the driver's door behind her. The key's were inside the glove compartment, which the girl opened quickly. Hundreds of keys and knickknacks were dangling from the key chain, but the shiny silver one was obviously the one to run the vehicle.

She started the car and got a scare from the loud radio. After rolling down the rest of the windows, she turned the volume of the radio down all the way. The letter was pulled out of her pocket and placed on the dashboard. Though she knew that with the fumes she'd pass out in several minutes and be dead not long after, the girl lightly traced the word "hideous" carved into her left forearm with the razor blade. Applying more and more pressure, she continued to go over the letters of the word until the wound was so deep that the girl nearly hit bone. She was numb to the pain and could only concentrate on two statements running through her head, which she began to recite out loud until blackness took her:

"Death is the end of all pain. It takes more courage to end the pain than live with it."

*Just give me one good reason to live

I'll give you three to die

Let's leave this world behind*

When the girl's parents finally did get home, they found their daughter dead in the car. The blood from the wound on her arm had stained the interior of the car; initially the first thing her parents were worried about. But the realization that their only daughter had, yet again, tried to end her life sunk in. Instantly they knew that they were too late.

Liberty Van Zant had finally escaped her demons and the pain that had haunted her for years. She was finally free. She was finally going to be happy. She could finally leave this all behind.