Lacrimosa (Scomiche)

Ultimum Vale Meum

Gone. Everything was just... gone.

Happiness, hope.. the will to move, to breathe, to live...

..Mitchell...our child...

...gone.

There was nothing left of me. If destroying me was Alexander's goal then he finally succeeded.

I was left in shambles. So I did what I always did and I ran. I ran as far as I could without giving a damn where the hell I ended up or what happened to me. I just wanted to disappear into nothing, but the pain of it all kept me from drifting away, anchoring me with barbed shackles.

It was time to change again. It was time to become someone else.

I needed a reminder, something to keep me from becoming complacent. I needed to remember just who controlled me and my future. Alexander Prescott wouldn't forget, couldn't forget that he would never escape this punishment, would never get a happy ending.

I'm a monster so why not become the monster.

I had to accept that my forever was full of pain no matter what I did to try and make it otherwise.

Acceptance... maybe that's the wrong word. Resignation seems more appropriate.

I hid myself away, staying indoors and refusing to eat. It's not like I'd die anyway. Trust me I've tried everything and still... I remain while everything I ever love or care about turns to dust. No matter the time that passed, or the ache in my stomach, I remained unchanged. I remained a ghost that couldn't seem to disappear.

The years passed slowly as I wandered from city to city. I tried to numb the pain with drugs and alcohol, but it was never enough to forget his eyes when I drove that dagger into him. It was never enough to forget Marshall's frightened tears. It wasn't enough to forget that awful scream when he awoke in Molly's body. It wasn't enough to forget all of the loss and pain.

I was beginning to think the oceans were full of nothing but my tears, Lord only knows I've cried more than enough to drown us all.

I tried to stay away, but of course he found me again. I didn't see it at first, the differences were so drastic that it took over an hour of being in his presence to realize just who it was, but it was him.

His 'friends' called him Monty, users called him Money... I called him by his name, Montgomery.

He was like two people shoved into one... like black and white. Monty was tough and fearless out of necessity. He knew how to handle himself and people respected him for it. Montgomery was confident, but soft and needy when we were alone. He was just 17 when we met, just a kid, and I swear I tried my damnedest to push him away, but he was determined. I used the drugs he provided as an excuse to stay.

It wasn't the most ideal lifestyle, constantly craving the numb euphoria, but I knew it was useless to try and 'save' him. He would die either way, why not let him be happy until then.

I stayed there with him but emotionally I remained distant, almost to the point of cruelty. I was trying to push him away, but he just kept coming back for more. I welcomed the warmth of his body and the release of the opiates he provided.

He used to tell me that I was his drug of choice, his personal addiction. If he only knew...

I didn't even get a chance to say goodbye. I woke to eerie silence, and an empty bed. I found him dead on his couch. I didn't cry, I didn't hold him in my arms and curse the world for its cruelty as I normally did. I didn't beg Alexander for mercy, how could I when I knew he would grant me nothing. I simply kissed his forehead, apologized and left him there.