(BBB Fanfic: #ANGSTHO) If You Read This, Please Stay

-- ii --

Our broken insides don't even bother to note the sky above us gradually soaking in sunset colors. The oblivion above is clouded as our chests tighten over the past incidents. A huge part of me continues to rip apart, all the while, also feels relief over Ying's survival.

The sight of BoBoiBoy's fate drove most of us to shreds, at worst, insanity. But the black blood and our diamond tears only yell one message into the Atata Tigan eyes:

The Elemental Hero is dead. The specimen is dead. Nothing more needed here.

No, Yaya! Don't say that, don't say it...Don't say, "dead." Never ever say it!!! I fight off choking on my own tears.

It doesn't take the alien fleet long enough to retreat before one of us could even break blindly into rage. Either way, the energy within us wouldn't even make us capable of sending one last attack of hatred and vengeance.

The thought keeps coming at me like a missile at high speed, You should've been strong enough, Yaya. You should've finished him off. You should've been a tiny bit merciless! You could've been stronger sooner! If you could've helped, BoBoiBoy wouldn't be dead~!!!

I end up screaming with my teeth closed shut, my feelings blowing off me. "STOP IT!!! Don't give in, BoBoiBoy...! You gotta wake up, please! No...!!!"

The feeling of a million eyes watching me scream along with them becomes familiar. But I'm too numb to worry about it.

It feels like 30 minutes since. Not a sound or twitch from him.

Only us continue our endless wailing.

I want to wrench myself open for what happened to him, a mutual feeling reflects from his father, the Man of Fume.

It should've been me. It should've been me. It should've been me...

It should've been me!

"It should've been me~!!!"

I can only feel Ying yanking me up and backwards right after I realize I've been swatting BoBoiBoy's corpse-no, Yaya...leg...please-over and over.

Ying gets at me straightforward. "Yaya, please get a hold of yourself!" she scolds. "If BoBoiBoy were awake, he wouldn't want this in the first place! You could possibly be that one of us that can be the strongest at these times! Just think, he'll be fine...Be strong for him, please...I beg of you!" Her voice is strained of the happiness and energy she used to have. Now it's all gone. Just a dull, desperate face.

That urge of wanting to yell at her comes strong. She doesn't know what I'm going through. She can't tell me to calm down, set myself straight, when there isn't a single tear shed by her; not a single hint of worry or even a sliver that she's mourning.

All of me appears ripped apart by whatever darn emotion is left of me. I'm not even me anymore.

Just a blank woman of fury, hatred, guilt, and fear.

Hot tears simply trail down my cheek, tainting themselves with his blood and my sorrow.

It all comes rushing back. She's trying to mend me together.

I'm losing. To my own self.

The entire world stops narrowing, letting me hear her. "...They need you. Be strong..."

I try to heed her advice, until the ambulance arriving teases me once more, its sirens of blue and red amongst the ash and debris produced by the battle we created, pulling me back, sending me down.

The nurses come flooding down, also horrified of the sight. The sight of an eighteen-year-old, immobile, almost pale, lips white with splatters of black, foreign blood.