Twisted Wonderland Imagines~

💮Dressed in Violets💮

💮Dressed in Violets💮

  hometown & young ...

0:15–○———————— 3:33

             ◁◁ | | ▷▷

"What my friends think,what they're gonna say dressed in violets,covered on my grave"

"Hey, Cater-I need you to do something for me later," I speak into the phone, waiting on his response.

"Oh-sure! What ya need?" I sigh happily when he complies.

"Later, will you call my parents? Tell them I'm okay." I step out of the small convenience store, taking a quick sip of my previously bought vodka, letting it flow down my throat, the feeling almost similar to how fog from dry ice looks.

"Why? Is everything okay?" I check my surroundings before continuing on my path.

"What? Oh-yeah, I'm doing fine. I just don't think I'll get the chance to call them today, I will be busy at the time I usually call." I explain, I manage to keep the tears from falling

My chest hurts, wanting to end the call so I can finally breathe without concern of him hearing the shakiness of my voice.

"Okay-well, I'll make sure to call them. I'll see you later. Remember, we're meeting at that new cafe in the morning, I've been waiting to go since it first opened~!" I giggle at his excitement as I turn around the corner of the small shopping center, taking the gravel trail into the forest.

"Thank you, I owe you one," I say and hang up our call, only now, allowing myself to take a deep breath.

I want this all to work out so badly, I just need to remember everyone.

For the thousands, and the ones who cared to call but they never called for me.

All the people in the steeples pray to god, and hope they pray for me.

I know I shouldn't be doing this, though life hasn't given me much hope, just an illusion to a wonderland that was slowly broken by the madness of it's residents.

I've been drinking just to stay insane. It's sent thoughts all through my head about my value to these people.

What my friends think, what they're gonna say, dressed in violets, covered on my grave.

They don't deserve having to see me at my lowest, it would do nothing for them.

I've been holding onto hope so I could come back and my cold heart still beats.

I tried, I mean, there's only so much this place can offer someone, and unfortunately, it's been in short supply of life to a withered soul.

I'm just a different body, still the same old face. I've been trying to communicate, it just never seems to show on their radar.

I've spent my whole life in churches, standing beside the man who created this illusion of a paradise so the angels could have a safe place and leave the evil to the people who had found the peace with their seemingly perfect surroundings, hoping to haunt their minds.

The words appear to never end when I pray to god and hope he takes me too, take me to the break in this hell bent place, and bring me to where the angels decorate me in glitter and let me shine in my own light.

It doesn't take a long time until I'm at my destination, my cheap vodka almost completely gone by now.

I rest my forearms against the cold metal railing, searching for the best way to get to the top of the building.

I bring the glass bottle to my lips, letting the liquid burn my throat before setting on the ground, gently.

I duck under the rail, letting myself slide down the small hill, it's a strange location, a building constructed from under the ledge of a cliff, shading the roof a bit.

I catch myself on the concrete roof with a scream of happiness that I managed to get down.

I walk up to the edge and step up, watching the city below me, several hundred feet down.

They don't have a care in the would about things, especially for being in such a largely populated area.

Many people say that when you're about to die you can see your life flash before your eyes, and it's relatively true.

"{Y/N}!" My eyes lock onto Cater's. "I love you." I grin and fall back, letting myself fall, embracing the cold wind.