Many May

Quackhalo Angst

I need a break from Jizzie. Also, I prefer Quackhalo to Skephalo. Skeppy is toxic. Change my mind. 

Badboyhalo POV

     "Bye!!!" Skeppy yelled. He ran out the door in a flash of blue. In his wake of chaos, lied my vase. I spent weeks on it, just for Skeppy to spray paint it blue. My hard work is ruined. I don't have time to make another before Quackity's birthday. 

     It was my gift for him. It was so intricate and original, that he would love it, but now I don't have a gift. He might think I don't care about him! I have to figure out how to fix this. . . 

     I picked the blob of blue up. It's totally ruined. I turned it around. Even on the back. 

     "How's my favorite demon doing! I'm here before the party to-" Quackity burst in the room. He stopped talking when he saw the tears I didn't even know were creeping from my eyes. "Why are you crying?" 

     "My gift for you is ruined, I really wanted to make you something special, but now it's ugly. . ." I cried. 

     "It's ok, I didn't need a gift from you." He said. Does he not want me there? Why not? "You will always be my favorite gift-ew that was sappy." 

     I gave him a small laugh. He always knows how to cheer me up. 

     "How was it ruined?" Quackity asked. 

     "It was spray painted blue." I mumbled, downcast. 

     "Who spray painted it?" He inquired. "Was it Skeppy?" 

     "I don't know who it was." I felt a little nauseous at the lie. I can't tell on Skeppy, he's my best friend! 

     "Are you sure?" He gave me another chance to tell the truth. 

     "I'm sure. I don't know who did it." I felt a prick of pain in my heart. 

     He sighed. He knows I'm lying, and tried to get me away from Skeppy, but never succeeds. Skeppy is my best friend, and even if he isn't a good friend, I will be. 

     "I'm going to go get ready for the party." He sounded so disappointed. I felt terrible. His voice made it clear how he felt about lying. He left without saying goodbye. 

     I made him upset on his birthday. I'm a terrible person. I pick up the vase and throw it at the wall. It smashes into many little pieces. I pick one of them up, quickly dropping it with a hiss of pain. A long cut now runs down my hand. I deserve it. I pick up the rest, getting four more cuts in the process. 

     Why do I cover for Skeppy? That was a question I don't know the honest answer to. Maybe I like the attention when he talks to me. Maybe I'm just lonely. Demons aren't accepted by most people, so I never actually had a friend before Skeppy. 

     The only other person who treats me nicely is Quackity, and he's an angel, so there's no way he actually wants to be friends with me. He's just being nice. 

     I sink down to the floor. Why did I have to be a demon? Why couldn't I have been a human? The tears started coming in sobs. I can't do anything right. 

     The sky colored shards caught my eye. Maybe I could just. . . 

     I pick one up. It's sharp enough. . . No one would really care. . . Why not? 

     I lift it up, and bring it down. The piercing pain of the clay in my chest feels nice. I deserve it, right? I dunno. I hope not. I just want everyone to be happy. 

     "Bad? I'm sorry for leavi-" I look up. Quackity stares in horror at me laying on the floor. "Bad. . . No Bad stay awake. It's going to be ok." 

     He tries to assure me that I'll be fine. Is it really? 

     His voice starts getting fuzzy, and my vision starts blurring. Am I dying? 

     I think I'm dying. 

.

.

.

     Good. 

Edit: Is literally everything I wrote about suicide? Wtf past me, you need some therapy?