When The Tears Come Streaming Down Your Face, When You Lose Something You Can't Replace, When You Love Someone But It Goes To Waste. Could It Be Worse?
Vic doesn't know just how lucky he is not to be me. It sounds stupid and pathetic, a lot like the rest of me, but it's true. The truth just isn't always presented in the most desirable of formats, but the truth isn't skewed or altered and it's genuinely just about the only thing that isn't.
It's odd how in a society so revolutionised as our people have the most flaws faults and fuck ups. I think maybe the only in this state of sophistication do we point them out as such, because before society didn't highlight these things, but now to the world around us, everything's a problem.
I'm almost jealous of Vic just for not being me and that's just ridiculous; he's everything I don't want to be, but somehow that's better than what I am, but I'd never want him or anyone for that matter have to live a day in these shoes.
Even the most cruel, heartless and damned of our world shouldn't have to take on a suicidal mind; a mind that only functions to destroy itself and everything around it.
I have a lot to say to Vic, that's for sure, but the pen won't meet paper and despite what I originally thought Vic's letter was proving to be the hardest to write. I find myself trying to at every waking moment, because this is important; I want to get this done so I can leave this damned earth completely.
Don't even bother with the 'angel returning to heaven' bullshit. I'm not one for religion and even if I was, it'd be the other way round, because I'm nothing but a demon slowly being rejected and pushed back down into the fiery pits of hell where my damned soul belongs. I'm not sure where I belong actually, but I'm damn fucking well sure that it's not on this earth, not in this life, not at all.
I'd made some progress on all of the others except Christa's. Lisp girl was certainly a tricky subject entirely. I felt obligated to say something to her; I just hadn't the slightest clue as to what. She'd reacted badly to the little shard of this ordeal that had been unintentionally exposed to her, so I was utterly unsure as to quite how badly she'd take the rest of this shit. I didn't even know what to say to her.
'Sorry for dying, not that you minded too much and kind of suspected this all along, I guess.' Yeah, that wouldn't really cut it, wouldn't it? It even sounded sarcastic in tone and despite my dislike to this earth and the people on it; I wasn't quite that spiteful, well not yet anyways.
The words seemed to blur together, because there were only three words that needed to be said on Vic's letter. Three fucking stupid little words, and despite better judgement I grabbed my biro and scribbled them down regardless.
I knew I shouldn't and I knew that they need not be said and that things would be better and that my passing would be entirely a lot easier if I simply ignored the most important and yet soul destroying part of my life right now, but the words went down regardless.
Vic Fuentes, I love you.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I couldn't just forget it now - I'd made it a thing, I'd made it real just by writing the three fucking words onto paper. I didn't want to make it real, not at all, not ever, but now, now this had been realised I had very little hope in changing that whatsoever.
And now they were real I had no hopes of simply eradicating them from reality and forgetting this ever happened - I couldn't do that anymore. I had to simply justify them and play it off, because even within my death I'd still be up there in Vic Fuentes' head and I'd just wonder what he could possibly think about me when I'm gone.
I didn't want to think just how he'd hate me to hell, but somehow, just somehow it felt necessary and horribly so at that.
It's true, despite the fact that I really don't want it to be. I'm not even sure how it came to be, it was never a cliché thing: love at first sight etc. It kind of crept up on me as I found myself growing more and more attached to you.
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Euthanasia (Kellic)
Fanfiction'The painless killing of a patient suffering from an incurable and painful disease or in an irreversible coma.' Euthanasia. This disease was my life. I want to die, I want to die. I wanted to bleed out right in that bathroom, but he had to stop me;...