𝙋𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙧 ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐˢᵐᵖ DISCONTINUED

HEARTACHE II

Thirty-five | Heartache II

ᴠɪᴇɴɴᴀ

The blood on my hands stays glued to my body, stays under my nails as the tears slowly relent, my noes still runs and my heart still stings as I lay against the nearby wall. Jschlatt's body lays lifeless on the floor, the blood drying on the side oh his mouth. I can't take my eyes off of his corpse.

If I was quicker, if I was stronger, I could've saved him. If I hated him, if I wished him dead, I wouldn't have cried as he died in my arms. I wouldn't have punched the walls until my blood mixed with his on my palm like a pallet of paint. I wouldn't have thrown the remaining books at the walls, I wouldn't have tore out my hair as I realized what happened, as I realized that Jschlatt was gone. I wouldn't have wished It was me if I didn't care for him at all.

But I did. I cared so much and it was tiring.

If I didn't care so much I wouldn't be here.

"God-" I huff, rubbing the palms of my hands on my jeans, trying to get rid of the blood that stained my hands, trying to wash away what I saw. what I feel. I didn't want to feel anymore. When my hands started to burn I didn't stop, I knew I should've, but I didn't. Soon, my hands felt raw, but I could still see the blood there. The blood was always there.

I groan in anger, throwing my head back against the wall, water clouding across my vision again. I felt the sting of my palms and the salty water running down my cheek, seeping into the corner of my lips. I tried wiping the tears away, only for them to be replaced with more. I didn't want to cry anymore, I didn't deserve to cry. This was my fault, I shouldn't get to feel pain because of it.

If I was quicker, If I was stronger, Jschlatt would be sitting beside me right now. But he isn't, and I wasn't.

"Dammit!" I cry out, hoping my voice held more anger, more resentment, than what I could hear- there was no emotion in my voice other than sadness. I wanted the earth to feel my pain, to feel my hatred for it, my hatred for myself. After the same thing happening over, and over, and over again, loosing people over, and over, and over again, I wanted the world to know that I was done with it's shit. If I couldn't save anyone, if I would always be the one that the gods targeted, then why shouldn't I be next? Why shouldn't I join the rest of my friends in hell? It's not like there was anyone left here for me..

No. That's a lie. I had Niki, and I had Philza, and I had Ranboo-wherever he was these days. I had, I had Techno, I hoped I still had Techno. I hoped I could still face him and he would let me stay, let me be able to finish what Jschlatt wanted, a last wish of his. I wanted him to rest easy, and he wanted me to be happy. And in the end, he was right I guess.

There was a reason I kept Technoblade's cloak, a reason I didn't burn it when I should've. There was a reason I still had his armor, a reason I still carried him in my mind. There was a reason I wanted to do what Schlatt wished. I just didn't want to admit it, not right now. Not in this moment. I huff out a sad laugh, wondering where this all came from. I wonder where I went wrong, too, what I did to end up here.

Maybe it was when I ran away from my village, or when I didn't fight the pillager when Dream saved me all those years ago. Maybe it was even going with him in the first place. Maybe I should've died in that damned place, maybe then I wouldn't be here right now, wouldn't be crying over a man who killed me and my friends. Maybe I wouldn't be here at all, maybe I wouldn't feel like the world was against me in every way possible, trying to drag me to hell when I still wanted to fight it. I didn't want to fight anymore. I didn't want to cry anymore, I didn't want to feel anymore, I didn't want to lose anymore.

Opening my eyes that I didn't remember closing, I stare at my hands, at my clothes. The shirt I wore had more blood than I held in my veins, and my hands beat it by far, drenched in the red substance. The jeans that kept me warm were covered in dirt, blood and whatever else was covering the ground. I need a change of clothes, and Philza might start wondering where I went. I should get back..

But I don't want to leave him here..

Drying the stray tears left in my eyes, I stand from the ground, keeping my head down. I see the top of Jschlatt's head, his brown hair falling in tangles around his horns, matted down to his skull. His hands laid in a puddle of brown, dried blood, digging under his nails and seeping into his sweater and jeans. His eyes were still open, still staring into the open space above him. Bending over, I let the back on my fingers close his eyes for him, giving him some sort of peace in the wretched place. I didn't want to leave him here in the open, but I had no choice. He was too heavy for me to carry on my own, and if I showed up with a corpse of a dead man, people would call me a witch. At least, that's what I thought they would call me, there wasn't much else to explain a dead man walking other than witchcraft. I would get stared at as is with all the blood on my clothes, I'd rather not add another thing for people to talk about.

So instead of carrying his body back into New L'Manburg, or bury him in the woods somewhere, I stood in silence for a moment, then backed away from the corpse in what use to be my living room. A place where the two of us shared stories, looked over old photos and remembered things before they went to shit, before everything went to the dogs.

Before I lost everyone I cared for, and lost almost every reason to keep living.

I wonder if Philza had any whiskey?

1120 words

Happy pride month everyone :)