Profiler fic: Chicken
Title: Chicken
Author: serialbathera
Fandom: Profiler
Prompt: 86. Choices (fanfic100)15. If I could only die that way, I’d say goodbye to the business of living. ~ Petronius // Good God, What a Night That Was (fanfic_fiesta)
Challenge: None
Characters: Philip Nichols
Characters mentioned: original character, the Nichols family
Pairings: None
Rating: R
Warnings: Suicidal thoughts
Word Count: 459
Summary: Philip performs a ritual that has become almost a daily thing
Author’s notes: none
Philip Nichols spun the knife on the floor he wondered if he would need liquid courage to do what he planned.
Would it make his father love him anymore if he went through with it? Knowing how Philip’s life had turned out so far, he was getting a feeling that no one would find him, and no one would care. He’d be alone left to rot. His body turned to dust before anyone thought to look for him.
He could imagine his body decaying in his room, and one of the maids coming in just spraying air freshener before walking out. Eva, the head maid, probably would open the door and see his bed still made, and walk out.
Philip opened the switchblade, and examined it for what must have been the hundredth time. He ran his right index over the blade. He felt that sometimes that he had the potential to take over the world, but other times that this house was making it slip away. This house his unofficial prison drained the blood from him, heck the whole Nichols family did. It was stifling.
His father didn’t understand him, and for as far as Philip knew probably didn’t know what Philip’s name was half the time. And no matter what the golden child that was his brother Edward did, the old man would always love him more. Edward could probably kill someone, and all he had to do was pout, and their father would forgive him, because he was a football player, and had an interest in the tobacco company.
People weren’t supposed to speak ill of the dead, so maybe if Philip went through with it all his problems would be solved. He would become the son who was lost, the golden child, instead of Edward. But oh course, Philip wouldn’t be able to experience any of it.
He picked up the knife again, and questions began to flood Philip’s brain. He dropped the knife, and pulled himself into the fetal position, not wanting to hear the voices in his head. The voices that were telling him, that he was supposed to put others first, and that he was being selfish to even think of what he was thinking of. He believed in reincarnation, along with other aspects of religion, like God. If he went through with his plan, he wondered, if by taking his own life he would somehow send himself to a worse place than he already was.
Philip sighed a great sigh that was felt through his whole body. He slipped the knife back under his mattress. Maybe tomorrow he would go through with it. Or maybe it would just be like today, he would chicken out. He’d have to find out tomorrow.
Author: serialbathera
Fandom: Profiler
Prompt: 86. Choices (fanfic100)15. If I could only die that way, I’d say goodbye to the business of living. ~ Petronius // Good God, What a Night That Was (fanfic_fiesta)
Challenge: None
Characters: Philip Nichols
Characters mentioned: original character, the Nichols family
Pairings: None
Rating: R
Warnings: Suicidal thoughts
Word Count: 459
Summary: Philip performs a ritual that has become almost a daily thing
Author’s notes: none
Philip Nichols spun the knife on the floor he wondered if he would need liquid courage to do what he planned.
Would it make his father love him anymore if he went through with it? Knowing how Philip’s life had turned out so far, he was getting a feeling that no one would find him, and no one would care. He’d be alone left to rot. His body turned to dust before anyone thought to look for him.
He could imagine his body decaying in his room, and one of the maids coming in just spraying air freshener before walking out. Eva, the head maid, probably would open the door and see his bed still made, and walk out.
Philip opened the switchblade, and examined it for what must have been the hundredth time. He ran his right index over the blade. He felt that sometimes that he had the potential to take over the world, but other times that this house was making it slip away. This house his unofficial prison drained the blood from him, heck the whole Nichols family did. It was stifling.
His father didn’t understand him, and for as far as Philip knew probably didn’t know what Philip’s name was half the time. And no matter what the golden child that was his brother Edward did, the old man would always love him more. Edward could probably kill someone, and all he had to do was pout, and their father would forgive him, because he was a football player, and had an interest in the tobacco company.
People weren’t supposed to speak ill of the dead, so maybe if Philip went through with it all his problems would be solved. He would become the son who was lost, the golden child, instead of Edward. But oh course, Philip wouldn’t be able to experience any of it.
He picked up the knife again, and questions began to flood Philip’s brain. He dropped the knife, and pulled himself into the fetal position, not wanting to hear the voices in his head. The voices that were telling him, that he was supposed to put others first, and that he was being selfish to even think of what he was thinking of. He believed in reincarnation, along with other aspects of religion, like God. If he went through with his plan, he wondered, if by taking his own life he would somehow send himself to a worse place than he already was.
Philip sighed a great sigh that was felt through his whole body. He slipped the knife back under his mattress. Maybe tomorrow he would go through with it. Or maybe it would just be like today, he would chicken out. He’d have to find out tomorrow.