A Sacrifice

Part 2/3: How Many Are True?

It's been days.
Wait-

The boy doesn't know the difference between night and day as he hides in the pitch black garage, not a crack of light ever shining beneath the gaps in the roller doors.

He hasn't eaten, he hasn't showered, he hasn't appeared online for gaming tournaments with his friends, he hasn't even stepped foot out of his room.

Nobody had called him, nobody had texted him, nobody had knocked or even walked in to check on him.

Was anyone true?

He mules over the question and adds up his thoughts.

His mother didn't really care about him, his brothers were her main priority.

His dad was a toxic lying asshole who was dying of cancer.

His adopted father only cared for the boy's mother.

His brothers never respected him.

His friends always expected him to initiate conversation first.

Everyone was always too busy to talk to him, or to even care.

He tried too hard to keep people who didn't want him and had too much trouble making friends.

His mother even told him that she didn't want him to be born.

And didn't that make him see how wanted he really was.

He stares at the small glow from his consoles and reaches out a hesitant hand to turn on his monitor.

The time flashes onto the screen and the background of Vox stares back at him.

"I always miss that motherfucker." He says huskily as he moves into his gaming chair.

He rubs his eyes a little and turns on his PlayStation 4, opening Discord in the process.

No messages.
He refreshes his page.
Still nothing.

He stares at the screen.
All his friends are online, yet there remains nothing.

Sighing in defeat, he comes to the conclusion that he wasn't really cared for.

And why live, why love, if you'll never be missed?

Why stay true to people who lie to you?

Why try so hard for people who don't bother?

He shuts Discord and puts the Resident Evil Village game disk into his PS4.

He chose to game alone, in the dark with no sound.

He could hear his brothers arguing in the house, his mother yelling at them to shut up and his adopted father yelling the boys off.

He tears up and stares at the screen.
Replaying all of REV for a sixth time.

It was probably one of his favorite games, one that a "friend" had introduced him to.

As he played, he got to the part that caused him to have a flashback.

He sat on the floor on the phone, on call with the guy he loved and their partner as he fought Lycans and Ghouls.
Passing through the castle to the roof where he fought Lady Dimitrescu.
He chuckles as he listens to the others and his friend while they pass the controller back and forth, enjoying the game.

Tears sting his cheeks.
He can't believe things went from perfect to shit over a short time.

He stares past the colours and plays on emotionlessly, picking up his vape and hitting blinkers every time the cold metal touched his lips.

After a few hours, he reaches out to the fridge under his desk, grabbing out a can of Jack Daniels.

Cracking open the can, he downs half, wiping his mouth and shivering at the afterburn.

"Fuck that hits hard." He breathes, blinking and putting his controller down.

Turning off his PS4, the boy goes to his normal PC screen and stares at his Vox background before opening Soundtrap.

Looking over the lyrics to the song he was writing he tears up.

It was his goodbye song.

That's what it was.

He was gonna produce that before he left.
It was an apology. A goodbye. A your welcome.

It was all he could think of after all, he had always been a better songwriter than he had been a man with words.

Drumbeat, guitar riffs, piano solos, chorus after verse and soon the song was done.

But time went by quickly, almost as if Earth wanted him gone as soon as possible.

Just like everyone else did.
But it's not like he cared anymore.

It was life.

But now, it was death.

♛┈⛧┈┈•༶༶•┈┈⛧┈♛
Part 3 coming soon.
Might be pretty emotional, so be ready for it.

~ Cub.