hitwave
I am dying.
I can feel it.
Warm blood trickles down my sides, soaking through my clothes as my body grows colder beneath the weight of the fallen stage light. The sirens are getting louder, but somehow they sound so far away. Screams fill my head. Footsteps rush around me. Someone is crying.
They're calling my name.
I can hear them.
Voices that never took the time to speak for me are now breaking as they shout for help. Hands are trembling against me, trying to keep me awake, trying to stop the blood that won't stop coming.
Perhaps they're afraid.
Perhaps they feel guilty for losing a life because of this group.
Because of me.
I want to tell them it's okay.
I want to smile like I always do and tell them not to cry.
But I can't move.
And as I lie here listening to them cry, I realize something I've spent years refusing to admit.
They don't love me.
They never wanted me.
And perhaps, now that I'm gone, they'll finally be happier.
No more Han bothering them.
No more Han making mistakes.
And maybe, when I'm no longer there to make things difficult, they'll finally be able to breathe.
My eyes grow heavier.
Their voices are fading.
I'm sorry.
For being someone they never wanted.
For loving them until there was nothing left of me.
If there really is another life...
I won't do this again.
I won't stay where I'm unwanted.
I won't spend another lifetime begging people to love me.
If I'm given another chance...
I'll leave.
This time, I'll let go.