Out of Place

Lost

TW: Serious Suicidal issues in this chapter. I'll notify you again when it gets real bad.

~ Present Time ~

It... didn't exist anymore.

It simply didn't exist anymore.

Dio slowly blinked a few times, feeling as if a heavy, crushing weight had been placed upon him. He literally felt about one hundred times heavier than before. He almost wanted this imaginary weight to crush his bones to dust so he wouldn't have to feel the burning sensation in his lungs as the realization had sunk in.

All these years... his home and family had been gone for all these years, and he didn't even know.

He didn't even know!

He had been running on nothing more than false hope for all these years! He only told himself to keep pushing forward because he had thought that someday he'd make it home and all his pain would be worth it.

But it wasn't. All these years, all the heartache, all the loneliness, it all led to nothing.

IT ALL LED TO NOTHING!

He wished he could take a cool, steel knife and cut away the pain. Cut away the burning loneliness. He didn't feel strong anymore. He wished he could feel the relief of the blade cutting across his skin, bringing that beautifully sweet yet cold stinging sensation. He wished these feelings could just end.

The feeling he felt now, the grief of the moment hit him like a sneaker wave. The riptide had dragged him out to sea, pulling out down further and further away from land.

How could he have been so hopeful? How could he have been so stupid?! All these years he had been looking for something that wasn't even there!

He began to breathe heavily, but with each breath, he felt as if he was suffocating. He felt as if something had wrapped around him tightly and squeezed the air out. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't seem to get the supply of oxygen he needed.

He had said before that it didn't matter what happened to him, so long as he could get home. He didn't care how much of his own blood he'd spill. He just wanted to be home. Before this, he didn't even care if he would have had to give every drop in his body. He just wanted to go home. 

But now... he could see that it had all been a waste. All the pain, all the loneliness, all the effort. It had been for nothing. He squeezed his eyes shut, bowing his head in defeat.

"It's gone..." He whispered, sounding broken.

Lost, and broken. That's all he was.

Everything hurt. This had hurt far more than anything had ever hurt before. Far more than the cuts he had given himself. It felt worse than being stabbed by a cold knife. It felt worse than someone taking his spine and ripping it from his body.

He didn't have a family. He didn't have a home. He didn't have a brother. He didn't even have a friend. He didn't have his own Mr. L.

He. Had. Nothing.

Not the kind of nothing Dimentio had, but truly nothing.

And the worst part... he wasn't even there when it was all taken away. He didn't even know it happened. He wasn't there to vanish alongside his brother. He wished more than anything that he could have been. He wished more than anything that he could have just died with his family. 

Surviving felt like a curse.

"I-I really am an idiot..." He whispered. He didn't know what to do now. What COULD he do now? He had nowhere to go. There was nothing left. All his hard work, all his plans, they were all in vain.