Dog Days

Chapter 74

A/N: Trigger warning: suicidal ideation. Suggestive language. Do you guys even need these, anymore? Idk, hope you're enjoying it. I haven't even published Chapter One. I hope this doesn't suck. Enjoy, I guess ~Loverboy

I can't stop myself from my rage. I can't look at my family. All I want to do is destroy.

In an instant, I march towards the television and yank the lamp off the side table as I scream. In an instant, I take the base of the lamp and smash it into the television.

It crashes to the floor and I grab a fireplace poker to continue bashing it in.

I can't stop myself from screaming out in agony as I vaguely remember Odin pulling everyone out the back door.

The rage just boils inside of me as I imagine his brain on that dirt floor. I scream as images of the perfect life begin disintegrating in my imagination.

He's fucking dead. He was shot in the fucking head. There's no way to come back from that.

My body trembles as I continue beating the destroyed television. I scream out in utter despair.

I scream so loud that I'm sure the people of the commune can hear it. My heart breaks with every single second I allow it to process the event.

I watch the broken pieces scatter across the floor as I take my pain out on the flat screen.

And when I get a glimpse of myself in the wreckage, I see a broken, hollow, desperate man. Someone with nobody to love.

And then the rage starts to disappear.

The sorrow weighs in and I throw myself to the ground as I sob out in agony. I curl myself into the fetal position and begin sobbing into my knees.

My chest implodes and I clutch onto it as I desperately try to calm myself before I actually have a heart attack.

I can't breathe, I can't think, I can't even see. All I can feel is pain. All I can think about is him dying.  All I can see is the gun to his head.

And the pain in the chest just pulls me down.

I eventually find myself laying on the ground, sobbing.

I try to cling to the happy memories, but all I can see is his pain.

After I'm out of tears to cry, the kittens come running up to me, screaming for food.

Brokenly, I crawl to the kitchen and give them both a can of food. As they scarf it down, I crawl into my room and just lay on the floor.

I lay there, waiting on the drugs to come and take me away from the pain for a while.

~

I eventually passed out due to my sedation.

When I came to, the kittens were crawling all over my huddled body.

Nothing in me could care to move.

For the first five seconds, I forgot he died. I forgot he was shot in the head.

For the first five seconds, I had a brief moment of ignorance, which brought with it, a level of happiness.

And then the memories came flooding back.

Suddenly, I didn't want to move from the cocoon of comatose flesh I've made for myself.

All I want is to stay in that moment of sleep and peace, but it's escaped me.

I escape into my mind, which is a prison in and of itself. I go back to his eyes. I remember the beautiful forest green eyes that I could get lost in.

His eyes were beautiful. They looked so deep around the edges, and the middle would flare out like fresh grass.

He was a beautiful man. I could have stared into those eyes for the rest of my life. Now, I'll never even see his body, again.

I'll never even know the exact date he died.

All I have is the hour's worth of videos that brought him back to me and took him away.

I can't find it in me to move, because part of me doesn't want to live like this. I don't want to live in a world without him.

The thought of eating my sleeping pills crosses my mind. For a split second, I think about ending it all.

I'm tired of the constant weight on my shoulders. I'm tired of the pain. I'm tired of living in the constant state of agony I've grown accustomed to.

Even if I want to die, I know I can't, which hurts even more than the thought of dying.

Tears slip down the side of my face and, out of nowhere, I hear my phone buzzing in the other room.

The morning light shines through the window, yet I don't care. I don't move from my spot as the buzzing continues, none stop.

I slip back into my mind and all I can see is the hallow look on his face as Thanos was defacing him. I can hear the powerlessness in his moan.

He took the only person to ever make me feel whole, and he ruined him. He wanted him so badly, like a child wanting a toy.

As soon as he had him, he played with him and abused him, until he got bored.

And then he killed him.

The buzzing in the other room continues as I lay on the floor, too paralyzed to move. There's no reason anyone should try to contact me.

There's no reason to call about a dead guy.

I lay there, completely incapacitated by the shock of yesterday. For a moment, I was happy.

For a moment, I thought he would slaughter them all.

For a moment, I allowed myself to imagine holding him in my arms, again.

And now, all I feel is empty.

I feel like I'll never feel whole, again. Like this pit in my chest is a permanent resident, never to leave my body.

All I want is to see his face, just one more time. All I want is him.

As the tears roll down my face, a sob slips from my lips. The only sounds in the house is my broken crying, and my phone buzzing in the other room.

I just ignore it and continue staring out in shock. I don't want to hear the pity in people's voices as they tell me how sorry they are for my loss.

I don't want them to look at me like some fragile person. Yes, I am broken. Yes, I lost the one person I loved, unconditionally.

I'm just so sick of the soft voices and regretful faces. I'm tired of them reminding me what happened with a single look.

For fucks sake, I almost wish I never met him.

I hate to say it, but I'm more broken than I've ever been. Maybe, if he never met him, he wouldn't have died.

Maybe meeting me signed his death warrant. Maybe I gave him just enough false hope to het him killed.

And then I begin to feel guilty for his death, all over again. After all, I was never supposed to be in camp that day, anyway.

Maybe I could have saved him.