Author's Notes: I wrote this after reading Silent Reverie (*sniff* so sad) so...excuse me if I sorta stole the general idea.
Of Wanting, Of Needing, Of Having
By Freya Sacksen
I see him.
No...I saw him. He's dead. I can't see someone who's dead.
I saw him...just before the white enclosed me...he was standing, his cape flowing around him. His eyes-for the first time in a long time- held solitude. Peace.
I-I swear I could see tears in them. Tears of happiness. Of peace.
And then-could I? I-I think I heard it-a scream of pain. Of Loathing. Of Wanting. Of Having. Of Needing. Of Loving. Of Laughing. Of Crying.
And yet...it felt...so unreal.
God...I wish I could go on...without crying. Without tears. I hate tears. They feel so real that I want to rip my eyes out just to stop myself from crying.
To see him smile and say he loves me,
To feel him laugh,
To feel him love.
For him to be alive,
For me to wake up and discover that this is a dream,
For me to be able to love and not feel pain.
Except an empty memory and a dusty photograph...
I stare at my hands...they seem so empty...yet filled...with the blood of the dead.
I-I wish he didn't have to die.
It hurts so bad.
As though there's a hole inside of me, and all my emotions are gone, except sadness and pain.
Sadness. What a weak word.
But then again, this is a weak world.
I can barely stand. My legs feel as though they're going to collapse at any moment. I can't feel anything, I can't touch anything, I can't breathe.
Oh God. Just please let me die. I want to die...
Maybe if I die this will all go away, and I won't have to suffer.
Maybe I'll be able to see him again, in a place without pain.
Oh, Gods, here I come...
He held the razor blade to his wrist.
In a flash he was gone.
His friends didn't notice until Selphie asked where he'd gone.
They opened the door...
And found him there, dead, in a pool of blood.
This is truly a killing of love.
He Wanted, He Needed, He Had, He Lost, He Lusted, He Found.
May God have Mercy on us All.
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