(OLD) 𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸'𝚟𝚎 𝙳𝚘𝚗𝚎 « 𝙼𝙱/𝚂 »

𝐈𝐈.

[  𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤  ]

**preferable theme is black ! There will be some darker themes in this one!

PART II:

❛    I CAN'T FACE THE DARK
WITHOUT YOU !   ❜

If he hadn't gone, he would still be alive. And that single word, it was all that messed with his mind. What if he didn't follow his stepdad's order to go to the party? Would a beating really be worth it if he knew he would die? Yes. To him it would. But that's what tore him up inside. Knowing that he could've stayed Jeremy, if he weren't such a weak child. A mistake. He constantly told himself it was his fault that he died. Not Keith's. Not his mom's. There were very few things he didn't tell his friends, but the abuse wasn't one of the things he told them. His friends knew his mom told him he couldn't go, but he showed up anyone because, "She changed her mind." But Jess didn't change her mind at all. Keith, who was having an affair, told Jeremy to go to the birthday party. Jeremy tried telling him that Jess had said no, but the moment Keith raised his hand, Jeremy grabbed his jacket and scrambled out the door. Truth to be told, he was scared. Scared of going home every night. And it wasn't a type of "monster under my bed" type of fear. He was genuinely horrified by Keith. He only wished he could do something about it. But Jeremy was just a stupid little kid. Nobody would believe him. At least, that's what Keith said. And he believed that. So he stayed quiet, until the day he died. Now he only wished he was rebellious. Now he was dead. And it was all his own fault.

Bonnie sighed, kicking at the opposite wall on which he was slumped against. He was in Parts and Service, only because nobody would come in there to bother him, or try to fix the broken kid that was inside. "Sorry, guys. Some things can't be helped." Is what he spoke aloud, looking over at many, scattered and dismantled exoskeletons, sighing heavily. He remembered his mom. How upset she would be. How much she would sob. Jeremy was the last thing she had left, the only thing keeping her sane. But now he was gone. She was damn near crazy, her walls as black as her soul now. She was obsessed with finding this killer. To kill him. Torture him. Torture him like he did her soul. Crushed her faith. Ever since that phone call, she hadn't barely spoke a single word. The phone call saying he was dead. Bonnie felt horrible, oily tears running down his face. "I'm so sorry mommy.. It's all my fault.. I should've said something.. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" He yelled in his actual voice, not caring if anyone heard him. It was all his fault. Keith. Oh, if Bonnie could kill him, he would. Bonnie wasn't a violent person, and he wanted to KILL. He giggled a bit, gently wiping some of the oily goop on his finger, rubbing it into a message on the wall. Tear after tear.

HE'S GONNA
DIE

Was he going crazy? Of course. He couldn't hold it forever. His reality was snapping in half and he was slowly developing a split. "fucking hold it together, JEREMY. QUIT YOUR FUCKING SCREAMIng.. It'll be okay.. Just remember what Mommy said.. Breathe in, breathe out... Breathe in.. Breathe out.. Remain calm.. You can't lose it now. Just.. Relax.." He calmed down a bit, standing up to face the wall. "Oh no.. Oh no oh no.." He snatched a poster, putting it over where he wrote it. If they found out it was him, oh, how'd you be scREWED. He trudged towards his stage, stepping up. He grabbed his guitar, and began to play a familiar song. "La dum... La dum da~" Singing and his guitar were his coping methods. He didn't need to bother his friends. No point. They'd ignore. Play it off as a phase. We'll see. They'll see.

❛    THERE'S NOTHING LEFT TO LOSE , THE FIGHTING NEVER ENDS .   ❜