[ WP ] Start your story with : “ You can ’ t do it on your own , let me help you .

“ You can ’ t do it on your own, let me help you. ” His voice whispered, tauntingly, almost dripping with vitriol. It was Todd from accounting. 
 
 “ I do not need your help. ” I whisper through gritted teeth. 
 
 “ No? Then how do you plan to deal with the pain of defeat, of rejection when the world comes crashing down on you hmm? ” This time the voice was unmistakably feminine, Jessica, from the gym. 
 
 “ I am my own man. I do not need your help, I do not want it! ” The forceful repulsion of their argument came almost as a surprise to me. In all of my years I had never hated anything or anyone more than myself. I was a coward, a craven fool who hid his hopes and dreams beneath the supposed veneer of realism. 
 
 “ When Charlotte died who stood by your side? We did, we pulled you off the floor and gave you a reason to exist! You would die without us, your pain and misery would linger in the annals of time as utterly unique in its ferocity! ” It was growing angrier with each word, this time it sounded like my father. I had felt their wrath many times before. No idle threat did they espouse, I knew what would come next. 
 
 “ You will never bully me again. I am in control now and this relationship is over! ” My tipping point had been met. Jessica from the gym, Todd from work, my father, everyone else the voice had taunted and jabbed me with through its cruel mimicry. 
 
 “ You are a weak boy. Your father loathed the sight of you and the peers around you jeer and laugh when you leave the room. You are nothing without us. No happy ending lies ahead for you. Pathetic and cowardly, we are all that is keeping you alive; you piss poor excuse for a human being. ” It is my boss now, the same condescending attitude, the same overbearing lecture. 
 
 “ Fuck off. ” I let go. A rush, I hear the air break as they plummet towards the ground. My heart is pounding, my head, all the blood in my body seems to have built up in my head. I am cold, I am terrified. Defiance is always punished, yet I must disobey. I have served too long I must rule now. 
 
 The shatter of glass returns me to myself. The room is silent. I stare stoically at the shattered whiskey bottle on the floor of my apartment. I glance briefly, painfully, at the still full refrigerator. “ One down. ” 

