what tragedies befall us

sincerely, me

AN: Well, that wasn't a very good cliffhanger, but here we are.

If you couldn't tell, part two of 'dearest death'.

TW: Suicidal thoughts, suicide, implied abuse, derealization, hearing problems, the word 'flesh' (I don't think this is a trigger but every time I read/hear the word it makes me feel weird so,)

Dearest Death,

I'd like to call in my favour.

Sincerely, me

DD/MM/YYYY

There it was. It was done. Short, curt, and to the point. The only things his letter needed.

The boy went through the familiar motions once more, this time with a glazed look in his eyes and a feeling of surreal. Everything felt so close, so obvious, yet so far at the same time. He barely noticed the burn of the wax against his fingers, yet the flare of pain from the new wound on his leg was agonizing.

Crossing his fingers, he closed the chest, reburied it, and walked back 'home', a low buzzing in his ears. Or maybe it was just in his head; everything was too detached to tell. He felt like a stranger in his body, someone watching behind a screen as if his actions were controlled by another.

He had decided just an hour prior the way he wanted to go, after feeling goosebumps crawl up his arms and a violent shiver wrack his body. The boy needed heat, and so heat he would get. Perhaps it was an overused method, but it worked well, added with the fact that no one would be able to find his remains.

The next few hours were pure torture. He sat in silence, numb to the sea wind blowing past him as he stared out across the ocean. At this point, he just wanted it to be over, just wanted to be able to finally let go. The weird buzzing turned into the repetitive ticking of a phantom clock, and his vision grew blurred as his eyes unfocused. Even time was taunting him.

Finally, the boy pushed himself up from the log as light raindrops started to fall, turning back towards the trees. Or, more specifically, the tree. He stepped slowly but surely, every footfall seeming to make the ground tremble.

I am not okay, he faintly realized, but the thought was pushed away, replaced once more with numb emptiness and acceptance. This was all he had to do. Just check for a response, then he could go to the Nether and end it all. End all the pain, end all the suffering, end all the hurtful things he both did and was done to.

The land was eerily silent in his ears, despite the storm building up, making every sound seem so much louder. The sift of dirt being pushed aside. The creak of the chest being opened. The swish of fabric as he reached inside. The brush of paper against his fingers.

The envelope had been turned to face-up, a black feather inked onto the blank space to show that the letter had been read, just like all the others. This time, though, there was a small difference; a set of tiny numbers had been neatly scrawled underneath, three pairs of digits.

For the first time in months, a small smile spread across the boy's cracked lips. There it was. His ticket to freedom.

Too happy to bother covering up his hidden mailbox, he stumbled to his feet, dull blue eyes regaining a few sparks. The letter slipped from his hand, onto the ground, but he didn't need it, having memorized the coordinates the second he saw them. The boy felt so alive again, actively aware of everything he was doing and everything around him once more.

The rain beat down on his badly-clothed back, soaking through his dirty-blond hair and dripping down his sleeves, but he didn't mind it. His eyesight grew blurry once more, this time from the water rolling down his face, but the black rectangular structure was easy to spot against its empty surroundings. The boy practically leaped forwards, hand outstretched as he let the purple particles whisk him away.

The second he stepped on the cracked and dried red stone, almost all the rainwater evaporated in little puffs of steam, leaving him only slightly damp. Instead of taking its toll on him, the heat was comfortably warm, like a thick blanket wrapped around his shoulders. The air was dry but humid at once, smelling faintly of smoke and something rotten.

The boy eagerly walked along the bridge he made so long ago, the crackle of fire and moans of distant creatures accompanying his steps as he neared the spot the coordinates led to. It was a bit of a lengthy walk, curving around on itself and crossing over several bridges as he attempted to pinpoint the exact location, but he didn't mind. The further it was, the longer it would be before they found the marker.

Shuffling footsteps stopped and the boy turned to the edge of the narrow bridge he was on. His face glowed warm orange and yellow as he leaned over the ocean of lava far below. Is this the place? He briefly wondered, double-checking his memory. According to the small square device in his hand, one step forwards, directly off the bridge and into the liquid fire, would be where the coordinates indicated.

The boy nodded once to himself, another smile playing over his lips. The lava below him bubbled, as if in affirmation. He reached out his hand over the bridge, feeling the wafts of hot air blowing against his arm. Suddenly, he shuddered, feeling cold crawl up his spine, curling in on himself and dropping his device on the ground near his foot.

"It's cold, it's cold," he mumbled under his breath, and the air in front of him seemed to fog up. It was as if he had been plunged into the icy tundra, hands rubbing furiously at his arms in an attempt to warm himself.

The boy subconsciously felt himself leaning over the edge once more, this time craving the warmth with a newfound desperation and eagerness. He just wanted to feel the heat, to feel his worries and troubles and burdens melt away with his flesh.

He could feel Death's presence hovering around him, could feel her gentle hand subtly pushing him forwards. His thoughts were all screaming at him to do it, to jump, to end all the pain and the sacrifices and the trauma. A whisper of a voice graced the air, the words holding so much more weight behind them.

"It was never meant to be."

And with a smile on his face, Tommy leaned forwards towards the lava, welcoming his fiery demise with open arms.

AN: Damn that was long.

Sorry for rushing the ending, I put this off for three days already and honestly just wanted to be DONE with this trash.

lol let me know if I screwed something up because I have no will to read over this, bye o7