Langst: One Shots

Star Above the Waters.

TW: major depictions of suicide and suicidal thoughts, major character death.

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The icy cold drops of rain pierce deep into Lance's tear strewn cheeks, pale with cold as he shivered. It was like little needles flecking his skin and leaving him numb and frigid.

Above him, storm clouds cracked and thundered and rolled, making a symphony of Mother Nature's deadly desire.

Somewhere in front of him, the sky lit up with light like a match in a dark room, only now it was a lighting strike as it buried itself and made its mark somewhere in the world.

Good for it. It left a lasting impression when it was gone. Something Lance would never be able to accomplish.

He had tried countless times.

Either to be noticed, to be popular, to exist in the eyes of people who weren't apart of his routine life.

He went to whatever lengths he could, tried to stay out of any negative situation.

Lance was always a people pleaser. He always did his very best to make sure everyone he encountered was left with something good to say about him when he was gone.

But any good start with anyone, would only crumble to bad in some way and have him in ruins. Failure.

It seemed like other people could do it just fine. They could be just like Lance and yet they would be the one to rise up in the world, while he was only sinking lower.

Literally and mentally.

Over the past few weeks Lance had got to thinking pretty hard about life. Not about how to go forward with it, what he could make of it, or even what he had planned in life as it went on.

Lance thought more so on the side of ending it. Which, in that way, could be counted as the same as making it better.

Or at least that's how Lance saw it.

He'd been looking at the possibilities for weeks, like a kid in the candy store. Any way to get out of the world that he couldn't stand up in, only put deeper and deeper into a hole that the people around him were digging for him.

In all honesty, maybe he had a shovel himself, but that had only been for a little while. It was a small shovel.

Hanging was out of the question. He read too many history books and seen too many movies to know that if it's done with the slightest flaw, it won't be easy.

You have to take in people's height and weight, and the way the noose is tied in relativity to it all.

He would leave the math to Pidge.

Second option had been using those skills with a firearm that he had. But in all honesty that was too messy and he didn't like the idea of risking it not going right, distorting his face for the rest of his life.

Although he knew the proper way was to put the shotgun directly behind his ear, he didn't want to wimp out at something only he could control. Pull the trigger or not, there's too much room for mind changing.

Lance had already tried pills. But he had already been on so many medications to numb the race of his heart, the workings of his mind, all the boy had gotten in return was a nice euphoria for a few hours.

The stomach pumping afterward wasn't as pleasant, so again there is too much room for flaw. It needed to be just right.

So here he was.
Standing atop this mere ledge as the thing he loved most fell down around him.