A tale of Sorrow-A DSMP fanfic

4

What makes a full moon special? All it means is that there's a distinct lack of a shadow upon the surface of a globe far beyond our reach. Is it a coincidence? Perhaps unrelated? Because I can't find a reasonable link between death and the moon. Mumza prefers stars anyway. It makes no sense! Then again, a personal hell for every individual in the world should be a stretch, and yet here I am. Maybe Mumza just wanted a timer to go off of. It seems only logical that she would be in charge of this place, but then again, what is logic to madness?

Regardless of logic, the moon is full, and I'm allowed a temporary absence from the agony that is here. I find myself surprisingly calm as I walk through the mist, through various limbos, and finally to mexican dreams limbo. No one is new yet. In due time, though. I can feel it; someone will be  coming.

Soon.

Rather boring greetings are exchanged, and we all sit around in silence. Eventually, MD starts babbling about mamacita, but I just tune him out. The sound of other people actually talking is soothing. As long as I'm not listening, that is. Shlatt is infuriating, and Mexican dream is obnoxious. I really hope the next person to die is someone enjoyable. Or at least someone I can tolerate.

I pull out my cards and find that between all of us, we know 1 game. Solitaire. Shlatt doesn't know go fish, slap Jack, poker, 21, uno, or any other games, actually. Mexican dream knows even more than I do, though, and is especially fond of poker. Him and I play a few rounds of 21, slap jack, poker, and a game of uno. But there's a lot of games you can't play with just two people very well, so we play competitive solitaire for hours upon end.

Shlatt passes out and eventually has a heart attack and dies. But Mexican Dream and I just keep playing. I envy Shlatt. I haven't slept in... I... I don't  even know. Well, a few months in the real world, probably. And not for years here. Everything is so miserable. Who decided the afterlife has to be continuous torture? I finally managed to beat Mexican Dream, and we called that done for a while. He starts talking about his stupid girlfriend again, and I turn my attention to Shlatt, who has recently returned and is drinking again.

"What's new in the land of the living?" I ask him. He waits so long to respond that I thought he was ignoring me, but then he put his new empty bottle down and turns.

"Well, a lot, actually.  A bunch of morons tried to kill the *hic* pig warrior guy, and the brat is missing or something. And the hybrid kid and that little rebellious wannabe president are buddies now. Plus, I'm building a mansion and will probably be charging a million a night to stay in. It's coming along pretty *hic* nice. Thinking about pulling apart those, nobody twins, ash and something, or shit. " He then slumps over and starts snoring. I want to hit him. Pig must mean Technoblade. Brat, that's probably Tommy. Maybe the hybrid is Phil? Or Techno again? And I'm assuming that the wannabe president is Tubbo. Twins. I have no clue. Some assume. Techno and I are twins, but really- wait, I don't have time for lore in death. I'm off track.

There's so much I'm missing. I want to be out there. You never fully grasp what you have until it's gone. And now it's gone. And I'm grasping at nothing.

My thoughts behind to spiral again. I know nothing. I AM nothing. What do I do? Where do I go from here? In no time at all, I'll be abandoned to the darkness once more and have to wait in agony as my mind crumples. I can't take it! I need to go HOME!

Mexican Dream starts whistling cheerfully, and I snap. I launch myself over his stupid tacky counter and knock him to the ground, pounding my fist into his stupid face again and again and again. I've never actually gotten into a real fist fight before. Weapons always have come into play when I fight. Or I run. Or I die. Often, some hybrid of the three. But this.... it's liberating. It feels so good. But it's wrong. I force myself off him. His entire face is red now, not just the 1/3rd side. I slump against the wall and cry. Why am I like this?