broken heart-strings (seer x embalmer, +more ships apparently)

sixty-three {{END}}

I taste blood. 

For some reason, the entirety of rank season, everything was failed to be documented, but I guess that doesn't matter now. No one needs to know how Mike Morton got forced to the top by his abusive new boyfriend, Norton. How can someone be so fucking mean to the one they love? 

How could I have said that to my own lover?

Aesop stands in front of me, sobbing uncontrollably. I want to hold him. I want to apologize, but I can't force myself to do anything but stare at the wide cut on his face from my knife. 

I didn't mean it. 

Or did I? 

Emotions slam through me like a truck. 

It's all cracked bones, bloody bandaids on the side of roads, trash cans on fire, broken heart strings, and horrid stories of nothing else. 

Perhaps, I don't know what I'm doing, but maybe I know what did really happen. 

Naib's with Tracy. 

Norton with Mike. 

Emily finally made up her mind and got with Wu Chang as a whole. 

And everyone's happy but me and Aesop. 

Everyone feels something but us. 

Everyone loves their lover but us. 

Everyone is healthy but us. 

As I look back at all the documentation that's been made over the past however the fuck long it's been, I realize that we are indeed toxic, and there is only one way to fix that. 

I have to remove myself from the manor completely so he can be happy. 

If you're seeing this now, you'll know that I, Eli Clark, have put together all the pieces I could find and shall publish them for anyone to read. For anyone to observe and see. I'll put it out there so they can all see our broken love. The heart-strings that shattered time and time again. 

Aesop has run out of the room. Now, it's time. 

I grab the rope that's already been tied and put up on my ceiling, wrapping it around my neck. The chair I stand on is wobbly, as the tears won't stop running down my face. Soon enough, my lungs will fail to work and my fingers will turn a gross purple. I won't be in the way anymore. 

Kicking the chair away, I watch my door with shaky, teary eyes. Emily screams from down the hall at something, but she can't save me this time. This is different. Why? 

This is the first time I haven't been afraid of not being able to see the sun the next morning. 

-:-:-

Hi. I'm sorry this took so long, but this is the final chapter of broken heart-strings. There is no encore. There is no chance Eli Clark survived. And there is no tribute. This is it. This is all there is to give, and I'm sorry about that. 

If youw ant the song I listened to the most while writing this certain story, it's Kitchen Fork by Jack Conte. Go check it out to see how I felt. Go reread everything while listening to it and see how you feel. 

There are a lot of mistakes in this book, but I have moved on and will not be editing it any longer. Sorry about that. 

I hope you all enjoyed all I had to offer. 

If you want more of my writing, and better pieces, you can go check out my other published stories. I don't care though. 

Thank you all so much, my lovelies. 

I hope I didn't break you too much. 

Now, for the last time here, at least.... I'll sign off. 

-Mags++