For The Rats (One-Shots)

Untitled Part 38

This is just another safe house. 17 years and it's still not over. When will I leave? 

I sit in the employee parking lot, night cast over the mostly vacant lot. Fireworks still boomed and crackled over the park, echoing all around me like thunder through a porcelain sky. My other coworkers had gotten off work, excited to go party with their friends. Have fun, get drunk. But I... I was going to a house that wasn't mine. I was living with people I'd grown up with, but only just met. And they were fine, but it wasn't me. 

I watch a spider crawl across the windshield, wondering if it was even real. I'd hallucinated spiders again, a lot today. 

I sit on the ground, my arms bound behind me and my legs wrapped in chains that bolted to the dirty floor. I was much younger than I am now, maybe 7 or 8. I'm not alone, my sister is on the other side of the room, bound up the same as me. And another girl, and my brother. But the lights are off, and I can barely see their pale faces in the dark. Their eyes that catch no light. Their hair that needed washed. There was no talking allowed, not unless you were answering a question from them. 

I sit in the dark, feeling something crawling up my skin. I move, trying to brush it off, though my heart is rising in my chest. And then I feel another one on my neck, and I know it's crawling across me-- spiders. I feared spiders more than anything else. 

I catch my breath, trying to cock my head to get it off me, but it was on my face now. A noise rises in my throat as I move again, jostling the chains around me. I jerk, rubbing my face against my bare shoulder, but it moves-- I make another noise, sort of like a strangled, muffled, half-scream. I see eyes snap up to me from across the room, and my throat tightens. But there were spiders.. and the one on my leg was moving, I could feel it.. 

And then the door opens, light streaming in. I could see my sister's terrified face staring at me, and my brother, and the other girl. They were watching me. They knew. 

I flinch away as the person nears me. 

I close my eyes, making not a single sound. 

I was alone. 

The parking lot was void of people, only containing cars. The next shift didn't get off until 10:30, and it was still around 9:45. It was the fourth of July, yay America day. 

I never thought it was a good idea to have a gun issued to me. 

I never agreed with that decision, though I didn't argue it when the time had come nearly 6 months ago now. Secretly, I knew they wanted me to use it on myself. It was supposed to be for protection, because others were after me. But I think they knew that I knew, I would use it if I got in a tight spot with myself. They knew I was suicidal. When I was still... locked up, I'd tried every chance I got. Manic, frantic attempts done hastily in short time. Eventually, I decided to live through it and get out, and then live my life after that. I deserved that much, at least, I thought I did. But I got out. I moved. I changed my name, though I couldn't get the legal one changed yet. I got a new job that I hated. I was homeless for a few months, and then I moved in with my sister in a safe house. But being there.... 

It's not good for me. 

Fuck, I wanted to be better. I got sober, on my own. After years of it being fed to me. I got clean. I stayed that way, and now. I think I could go out and party, and have fun. And have a good time. And be okay. And be happy. I've healed so much, but my sister... her and her wife, haven't. 

It's depressing. It's all depressing. Everyone else was out celebrating, and me? I love celebrating. I dislike America but I love fireworks. I think partying would be fun, maybe. I think it could be amazing. Someone like me? Distilled in such a boring life? I couldn't. 

I had hopes and dreams. Things that kept me alive in the basement and between bodies. Things that may not have kept me sane, but they kept me aware. But I was starting to think that maybe I'd never see those dreams into fruition. 

Maybe all I am is just some teenager from the basement. 

Maybe that's all I'll ever be. 

Maybe I'll never transition. Maybe I'll never make music. Maybe I'll never experience life. Maybe I'll never be with another person ever again. Maybe I can't fall in love. Maybe I can't create things anymore. Maybe, I drank so much poison, that I became the poison myself. 

The metal is cool in my hands, and I close my eyes. I haven't lifted this gun in a long time. 

For someone like me, who loved the idea of celebrating holidays, and to never actually celebrate. To watch the fireworks in the sky, but never get close enough to admire their beauty for long periods of time. I've found that everything I promised myself last year has been delayed again. I was supposed to be free. I was out. I was supposed to be out. I was supposed to be free. When would I fucking be free? 

I place the cool metal under my jaw, knowing the sounds will blend in with the fireworks in the night. The door was unlocked, a letter already taped to the wheel. All it said was "I'm sorry. I didn't want to do this here, but I had nowhere else to do it at. Please keep this lowkey... I don't want them to find me." 

Maybe, I was better off as a statistic. Because I was never going to make it. 

I pull the trigger, my hands flying away from my face as my head is thrown back, hitting the headrest. I can hear it, for just a second, the blood spraying against the roof behind me. 

And just like that, everything snaps to black, and I'm gone. 

*** 

A/N: So this is an epilogue/extension/book2 of Shenanigans Afoot kind of, like an update maybe. You dont have to read that tho to read this. I dont recommend reading it. Half of its not finished, it's very chaotic.  

But thank you so much for reading this, and all these little parts. It means a lot to me, though I don't know why there's so many of you who do it. I kind of feel like I'm not good enough for yall, and I want to do better, but writing is just what I do for fun or to release. It's not my passion.. I don't know. But i didn't start writing for other people, and i still don't. but i feel like i should. 

anyway. i love you. if you're reading this at 2 am, go to bed. get some sleep, you've got work or school tomorrow. 

--sage x