A Thousand Painful Deaths

Chapter 3: At The End Of The Day

WARNING: Mentions of suicidal feelings, and experiences. I have personally never been through that situation, but I have had close friends go through something similar.
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Chapter 3: At The End of The Day

She was so much like Gwen. I was even more shocked when she asked to go get coffee after work. I agreed, I was off from my job at the bar tonight. Our shift got over at 5:30, and we walked next door to Starbucks. I ordered a plain cup of coffee, and a muffin, considering I hadn't eaten anything today. She ordered her girly coffee beverage that I don't think I could ever order.

We sat down at a booth, and sipped on our drinks. "So, Merlin, tell me more about yourself." She said, that Guinevere smile on her face. "Well, the first thing, I don't think I could ever order one of those fancy coffee drinks." She laughed, and, once more, I was back in Camelot. "Well, I guess, it's a developed skill." she replied. "It definitely is." I said, smiling. "But, seriously, Merlin. Start with your family."

I took a deep breath. I hated this question, because I hated lying. After hiding my magic from Arthur for all those years, I really really hate lying. "I grew up in an orphanage, was finally adopted at age eleven, kicked out to fend for myself once I turned eighteen, and have been trying to make it ever since." "Oh my, I'm so sorry, Merlin." she said sadly. I shrugged, "What about you?" "Well, my mother died when I was young. My father owns a car shop in the town I grew up in. I have a brother, Elliot, he's three years older and attending university, although he wants to join the military, he's getting an education first. I start university in the fall." she said. Elliot, Elyan...Jennifer, Guinevere...George, Gwaine. Maybe, they were all coming back. Unless, this was just some crazy coincidence, but, it couldn't be. Especially with how much Jennifer resembled Guinevere. And, if George had longer hair...he'd look even more like Gwaine.

All of this was causing my head to hurt, so I quickly finished my coffee, and are half of my muffin. "I'm sorry, Jennifer, but I should get going." I said, standing up. "Oh, well thank you for helping me today." she smiled and stood up with me, giving me a quick hug. "Do you need a ride home?" she asked. "No, thanks. I can make it." "Merlin, it's about to start raining. Come on." I consented reluctantly, standing up. "It's always about to rain in England." I muttered, causing her to laugh. Her laugh brought a smile to my face, reminding me of the adventures me, her, Morgana, and Arthur had embarked upon. Back when everything was...well, as close to perfect as one could get under Uther's reign.

"You always seem to have your mind somewhere else, Merlin." she observed quietly as we walked to her car. I shrugged in response, getting in the passenger seat. "Well, do you?" I sighed and looked over at her as she climbed into the drivers seat and started the car. "Let's just say my mind has been in too many places in my lifetime." I looked forward as she left the parking area.

I directed her through the tangled web of streets before we reached the apartment building. "Will I see you tomorrow? You know, at work?" she asked. I shook my head, "I'm off tomorrow." "Well, I guess I'll see you eventually?" I nodded and got out of the car, "Thanks Jennifer." "Call me Jen!" I smiled a little, and leaned against the car's doorframe, "Quick question: who would you say is your favorite person from the Arthurian legends?" She smiled, "Probably Guinevere. But, my favorite male characters are definitely Lancelot and Arthur. Their love triangle beats any from any other book I've ever read." I held back a laugh, "Alright. See you later." I closed the car door, and saw her wave as she drove off. "You have absolutely no idea..." I muttered aloud to myself before walking into the building.

I trekked up the stairs, and unlocked the door. George wasn't passed out in the living area, I honestly hoped he was out, or passed out in his room. As long as he didn't bother me, I didn't care. Especially after today. It was nearly eight o'clock, and all I wanted was to sleep. I shed my clothes from today and tossed them onto the pile of laundry I'd have to do soon, probably tomorrow.

I pulled on some sweat pants, and flopped down on my bed. I remembered that I hadn't finished last nights letter. I sat up and looked over at the notebook, I whispered, "Abanatae astrye." I motioned for the notebook to come, as my eyes turned gold for a short moment. The notebook gently flew into my hand, and I grabbed a pencil off my bedside table. Most of the letter consisted of me being sad and missing him, which is completely true. I finished the letter by writing about everything that happened today. About Jennifer, and how she is as much like Guinevere as Guinevere was herself.

I flipped through the pages of the notebook, and landed on a letter to Arthur from a couple weeks ago. It was more of a suicide note than an actual letter. "Dear Arthur, I miss you. More than anything. I thought losing you would be the worst thing I could possibly endure, but now I've realized that living without you is even worse. I have no one. No one who cares about me. I mean, I could probably count on my two hands how many friends I've had since you left. And they've all left me too. And most of them used me just as much as I used them. I can't do this anymore, Arthur. I've accepted that you're not coming back. There's no point in me staying here anymore. I love you. Goodbye."

I closed the notebook quickly, the memories of that night hitting me like a train. I had sat on my bed while holding a bottle of pills, crying, for at least two hours. I ended up throwing it across the room, and crying even more. "P-please...Arthur...please!" I had yelled, repeatedly.

Just the memories of that night, brought tears to my eyes. I don't want to think about that night, but something is keeping me from throwing away the note. I don't know what exactly stopped me that night. I believe it's the fact that I hadn't truly given up on Arthur. I don't think I ever really can give up on him.