𝐝𝐮𝐬𝐤 𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐝𝐚𝐰𝐧 Ⅱ 𝐬𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐟𝐞

𝐱𝐱- 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫

a/n: Alright first of all, happy pride month love bugs🏳️‍🌈
Also just as a precaution, this one shot does come with a trigger warning since it deals with heavy topics such as su!c!de and se!f harm. If you struggle with depression please click off of this chapter. Our mental health comes first lovelies.

~

It was bound to happen. Keefe should have seen it coming, especially considering he was an empath. He guessed that made him a pretty horrible one then since feelings were supposed to be his strong suit.

Its not that he wanted to die— no, Keefe figured that no one would wish for that, but he just wanted to pain to go away, to stop.

Its utterly exhausting, pretending to be ok, to be happy when you're anything but. Such an agonizing sensation feigning being content when inside every part of your body is being torn into threads, feeling like you want to scream and call out for help. Its pointless. Not a single soul would hear anyway.

It's suffocation. It's hopelessness. It's utterly terrifying.

Like a roller coster you hopped on with no clue as to when it will end. Spoiler, it doesn't.

He was fading away slowly but no one seemed to take notice.

Nothing mattered anymore. And why should it? What was the point of living if there was nothing to live for?

Sophie.

He loved her, but she didn't love him, not in the way lovers did at least. And it was killing him. He was insatiable for her love affection, craving her touch, her tenderness, her devotion. It killed him.

No one wanted him there, no no one would miss him. Most probably wouldn't even bat an eye.

Even his old bodyguard wasn't there anymore considering he was legally an adult now.

'God your so pathetic. Why are you even here at this point? Just put yourself out of your misery', he thought to himself .

"Just make it stop." It was a hoarse whisper not a single soul would hear.

"Just make it stop! Make it go away!"

Silent tears rolled down face, clinging to his jaw, even as he squeezed his eyes shut.

I just want to die.

Shit.

...Was he actually going to...

Keefe couldnt seem to stop as the idea began to form, taking root in his mind. His feet moved to their own accord, body seemingly on autopilot. His hand latched on to the golden knob twisting it until it clicked open.

He languidly shuffled to the Vortinator, riding it all the way up to one of the four crystal towers. Each crowned with a curved golden roof, giving off the illusion of a flame.

He swiped under his eyes, drying the last of the remaining tears.

The crystal towers gleamed as the sun hit the glass, creating the illusion of a rainbow on certain parts of the property. Glistening. Vibrant. So full of life.

In a way the structure was so radiant that it was devastating.

As he came to a sudden halt, Keefe dared a look down, going bug-eyed at the extensive fall.

Fuck.

There was at least two-hundred stories to this towering skyscraper.

He vaguely felt the cold air nip at his skin, a slight chill ringing through his body. The sensation felt distant, like a far away feeling.