The Regretevator writing dump / oneshots (regretefic)

Old memories.

"Ma? You think those shooting stars are real? Or are they just the bombs again?"

Unpleasant leaned against the window of the half-empty van, seeing the barren wasteland beyond the glass.

His home.

Or rather- remnants of his homeland.

It thought he was strong enough to visit his destroyed hometown, despite his heart screaming for him to run away and never come back, but his brain made him stay put, 'for the better'.

Although he didn't like the circumstances that was put through his home ever since the war, or rather, the genocide ended 40 years ago. It was locked up for 15 years thanks to radiation and then opened up as a 'tourist attraction' an example of a 'mistake' in the past. As if his native land was anything glamorous to look at?

"I don't know if I'll  ever make it past 13..what do you think twinkles?.....how stupid of me. Of course you can't talk. You're just a toy.."

He felt the van stop as everyone stepped out, unpleasant was the last one to do that, the driver in charge of this 'tour' instructed everyone to stick together as they all mostly took pictures of the rubble and weird plants surrounding the rocks, but unpleasant recognized the place almost instantly.

It was the neighborhood he grew up in. He recognized the stud of a house on the far left as being the one where his brother would reside in. Before he even found out he was his 'brother' per say.

"Some nights...some nights are dark...and...and some nights are almost black penny...like tonight...I'm scared of being alone."

The memories from his childhood would barely play in the back of his mind like a record, an ongoing church bell, he sat on a big piece of concrete and looked past the yellowed atmosphere and into the ruined city.

"It's pretty empty isn't it?" Unpleasant almost flinched at the voice, he turned around to see the driver inquiring. "Almost hard to believe real people lived here.."

Unpleasant just nodded along, sighing almost depressingly, he felt a hand on his shoulder "you got memories here. I can tell." Unpleasant looked away "no need to tell me though, I read all about the war when it first started, can't believe it's like lost media now...old and forgotten."

'Old and forgotten' just like me... Unpleasant thought twiddling with his fingers

"..but never useless" the old driver smiled down at unpleasant, who just looked up at him with gratefulness, he saw the driver hand him a small tear of a map, leading somewhere to a cliff.

"...thanks." Unpleasant finally muttered as he got up and held the piece of paper, looking back at the smiling driver "of course! Anything for my veteran passengers." Unpleasant nodded and went to waddle to the location, remembering the drivers same familiar face when unpleasant boarded the bus out of the wagging country and to safety almost 45 years ago. The only person in the packed bus to smile at him.

"You think dad wanted me? ...Sometimes I think so..even if he only used my mom for a one time sex thingy, I have a feeling I grew on him...oh..how stupid of me, what am I saying? no one would want me do they?"

...

Unpleasant finally reached the top of the cliff, seeing all the rubble and emptiness filled him with a sense of nostalgia but also a sense of depression. Is this how the place is going to be left like? A barren wasteland for people, to point and laugh at? This was once a persons home. Where he is standing, on a cliff side, another person did for centuries. Different people did. Where he was staring down at the rather sad scenery below him, someone else probably did, wishing for safety.

Now he wondered where all the other people had gone by. Where'd they ended up at.

Are they safe? Have they healed themselves from this past?

Maybe. Only god could tell.

But he definitely knew the piles of skeletons scattered around this out-of-bounds place did not die peacefully. Regardless, that didn't stop unpleasant to sit my the cliff side and dangle it's legs in the icy air plummeting beneath him.

"So you think we should jump today?...why not? Oh...well I think that's a stupid excuse....guess you're right though.."

That night. Unpleasant dreamed on that cliff side one side of a conversation he should have not overheard.

"Do you think other kids live like this?...I think so too...I'm guessing this is normal, getting shot and everything..."

In a dark room, with no light, unpleasant felt his head hurt just from being in such a dark place for too long, it felt like centuries has past..

"I wish I was shot too...maybe I wouldn't have to live another day to see my friends get shot instead. I don't think my heart can handle it anymore.."

The young unpleasant looked up at his brother, smiling

"What do you think penny?"

And for the first time, he could hear the other side of the broad conversation.

"I don't think you deserve to be shot gradie. I promise you you'll get through this. Just please promise me you won't try anything stupid to get killed. Or...worse.."

"...I promise."

"I know you won't" penny smiled "I love you."

Unpleasnat suddenly got up, backing away immediately as he'd felt his legs dangle off the cliff, afraid to accidentally fall down.

He clung onto his head and rubbed it slightly, seeing that he'd fell asleep on the rocky floor, his head throbbing and his neck hurt, he managed to sit up straight wiping the dust and tears off of it's cheeks.

Wait

Tears?

He noticed that he'd cried on his sleep, he felt embarrassed about that, and decided to just quickly dry it before someone finds here.

But then again, who the hell is walking through a radioactive wasteland in the dead of night? Hey, at least unpleasant had the starry night to himself now.

But that didn't make him feel better.

Better about penny anyways.

He curled up and placed his chin on his knees and pouted slightly, he couldn't exactly go back to sleep, but he didn't want to walk through this barren wasteland in dead set fear, so the best he could do was star gaze and remember his beloved brothers.

He had a lot of brothers, but penny was always so different with him, always making sure he was safe, sort of like his mother in a way.

He missed that. Now he was stuck in a state of fake pity from people who hated him.

He closed his eyes again  and let a single tear go down his cheek. Feeling a hand invite itself onto his shoulders, but he didn't flinch, just stayed still.

"C'mon unpleasant." A familiar voice called "let's go home."