Kleinsen Oneshots, Drabbles, and Prompts! [REQUESTS OPEN!!]

Time Again

not kleinsen. Evan centric

whump, suicide, suicide ideation, etc.

loosely inspired by something @-Just_A_Ravenclaw- told me + a tumblr post

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 "I never meant to make it such a mess. I never thought that it would go this far." 

    Those were the first words written down on Evan's paper. The only words that could describe.. anything. Evan was never good with words. Now that he was doing this, it was harder than ever. 

    "So I just stand here. Sorry. I'm searching for something, anything, to say."

    It was pretty funny, actually. Sometimes, words were impossible. Jumbled up messes that made no sense. But then other times, words flew out of his mouth in chunks. Unable to stop themselves from flowing in a not-so-majestic way. More like falling, then crashing down onto someone.  Words fail. A lot. 

    "But there's nothing I can say."

    Nothing would be able to make up for the shit he did, and Evan knows that. But at least he can't cause anymore harm after today. 

    "I guess I thought I could be part of this. I never had this kind of thing before. I never had that perfect girl who somehow could see the good part of me. I never had the dad who 'stuck it out,' no corny jokes, or baseball gloves. No mom who just was there because mom was all that she had to be." 

    Evan somewhat envied Connor. He knew he shouldn't, but he couldn't help it. His parents were so nice. But that's probably because they were trying to grasp at anything they could to hold onto their dead son. They only wanted Evan because they thought that Evan had a connection. That he knew Connor. Evan never realized how dysfunctional their family was. 

    "That's not a worthy explanation. I know there is none. Nothing can make sense of all these things I've done." 

    He shouldn't still be worrying about what he wrote in the letter. He shouldn't be worried about how is mom might react. If she'll show or tell the Murphy's. What about Alana and Jared? She was going to tell Jared's mom, then Jared would find out. Would Jared spread it around? How would he react? Would he be upset? Sad? Angry? And Alana. Jared would probably tell Alana. 

    The wind crashed against his face, biting his cheeks, leaving them a tinted pink. The sun was setting. His mom was still out at work. If you really think about it, he's doing his mom a favour. She won't have to worry about him not eating, because he's too scared to open a goddamn door and have a 30 second interaction with a delivery person. She wouldn't worry about having to pay for therapy, medication, or anything else. She could focus on herself. Her own needs; her studies. things that really mattered. 

    There was no reason for Evan to cry. He's only making up for things that should've been done at the beginning of this year. It's time again. 

    A letter with useless words, words that couldn't even come to him, should be good enough to explain why he's doing this. Hell, it should be blatantly obvious to why he's doing this. 

    "There's nothing I can say. Except sometimes you see everything you wanted, and sometimes you see everything you wish you had and it's right there. Right there in front of you. And you want to believe it's true. And then you think, "Maybe everybody wants it. And needs it. A little bit, too." 

    He wishes he could go back in time. Erase everything that happened. He wishes he never talked to Jared. He wishes he climbed higher up in the tree. He wishes he would've tried something else. He wishes he tried to kill himself sooner. Maybe it would've worked then. Maybe he could have what he wanted. 

    Everything he wanted was a mistake. He's tried to have everything he wanted. It failed. It turned out like this. It ended with Evan coming back again. It's going to end like this. It's going to end with Evan's body limp on the ground. Not just a broken bone. 

    "This was just a sad invention. It wasn't real. I know. But we were happy." 

    Were they happy? Evan wasn't happy. Well- he was. But it was fake happiness. A happiness that left him feeling empty. And broken; guilty. 

    "I guess I couldn't let that go. I guess I couldn't give that up. I guess I wanted to believe, because if I just believe, then I don't have to see what's really there. No I'd rather pretend I'm something better than these broken parts. Pretend I'm something better than this mess that I am. 'Cause then I don't have to look at it, and no one gets to look at it. No one can really see." 

    Evan thought he was getting better. He thought he was patching his holes with this. He thought he was building himself up. Yet here he was. Breaking down again. Shattering. Crashing. Falling apart into a million pieces. 

    He was never getting better. He was lying to himself. He lied to himself the whole time. He wasn't going to do that anymore. He was going to own up to it. He was going back to fix what should've happened before. 

    "I've learned to slam on the break, before I even turn the key. Before I make the mistake. Before I lead with the worst of me. I never let them see the worst of me. 'Cause what if everyone saw? What if everyone knew? Would they like what they saw? Or would they hate it, too?"

    He reached the tree. The same exact fucking tree as before. The tree that should've been the result of his death the first time. 

    He reached up and grabbed a branch, pulling himself up. Slowly making his way to the top. The sun had set now. The darkness looming over him, stars shining brightly in the sky, the moon illuminating a beautiful ray of light, projecting onto Evan's face. 

    It reminded him of his speech. The way the spotlight was all on him. How his video went viral, his face everywhere on social media. 

    He thought back to when he was in the shadows. When no one knew his name. No one knew his face. No one knew anything. All he wanted was a friend. He didn't want this.

    Maybe he could be friends with Connor in the afterlife. 

    "All I ever do is run. So how do I step in? Step into the sun?"

    This was high enough. His legs dangled off the edge of the branch. He stared at the view. Recalling all the events that took place. Part of him wanted to climb down, run home, call his mom. He wanted to be hugged by her. He just wanted to sob. He wanted to be told everything was going to be okay. 

    But nothing was okay. Not after what he did.

    So he let go.