A few years prior to this is when Ludwig learned of his elder brother's issues. Gilbert was a drunk and a drug addict. He wouldn't think straight, his mind swirled all the time. Gilbert insisted that he was fine, and that he needed those things, he simply couldn't be convinced otherwise. Ludwig just wasn't enough to persuade his brother, who had a much stronger will than him.
Some nights Gilbert would hide away in his room and drink the night away. Other nights he'd inject the drugs into his arm and lay back on his bed and just think. He was so desperate to get her off his mind, but it was impossible. Elizabeta was consuming his heart, wether she knew it or not. He loved her more than anything, but she wasn't attainable to him.
She had recently married Gilbert's old friend Roderich. Ever since they had announced their engagement, Gilbert had gotten even worse. He was only clean for the wedding, and otherwise he didn't go around people. Neither Roderich or Elizabeta even suspected that he had issues, but they were paying more attention to eachother than their friend.
A few nights after their wedding, Gilbert tromped up the stairs to his room with a case of beer and a few needles. Ludwig was about to say something, to stop his brother, but right when he was going to speak, the door was slammed hard in his face. Gilbert blasted his stereo so his little brother wouldn't be able to hear him.
Gilbert lay down the intoxicants and shoved them to the side. He picked up a pad of paper and began writing. After he had written a sizeable letter, he folded it up and put it on his side table. He stood and looked at himself in the mirror and sighed. He hated what he had become. He hated that his heart was so bitter to his old friend Roderich. He hated that he was being awful to Ludwig. He hated that he could never get Lizzy off his mind.
Gilbert covered his eyes with his fists and gritted his teeth. It had all become too much recently. Too much to keep his mind straight even when he hadn't been intoxicated. He couldn't stand his heart hurting this much anymore. He needed to end it. He let his hands rest to his sides and took a deep breath.
He walked the few steps to his dresser and pulled the bottom drawer open completely. He dug through his clothes to the bottom of the back near the right side. He pulled out a revolver. GIlbert closed the drawer and walked steadily back to the bed to sit. Weighing the gun in his hands, he closed his eyes. He took the gun in his hand and held it to his temple.
He pulled the trigger. It went off loudly as the bullet rocketed through his skull, stopping in his brain. His head was jerked in the opposite direction of the gun, then his body fell back on the bed. He wasn't there anymore. Gilbert was dead. The blood was splattered across the blankets, and it was soaking in quickly.
Ludwig hadn't heard the shot above the music. So, he only started worrying the next morning when Gilbert still hadn't come out of his room. The music had long since stopped playing, so all was silent in the house as Ludwig approached his brother's room. He knocked, but no response. He called in, but no response. He turned the knob, but it was locked. Eventually, Ludwig kicked in the door, breaking the handle and lock.
He gasped and stood frozen when he saw his brother dead on the bed. He felt tears sliding down his face as he stared upon the unmoving, bloody corpse. Ludwig turned and left the room, wiping the tears from his eyes as he moved quickly down the stairs to the phone in the kitchen. He called Francis and Antonio, asking them to come over. He didn't specify why though.
They came quickly, and were smiling as they walked in. When they saw the distressed and saddened Ludwig, they stopped, slightly afraid of what was coming. They were the only other people who had known about GIlbert's problems, but they hadn't been able to convince him to stop either. Ludwig sat down in an armchair and buried his face in his hands.
"He's dead. He commited suicide last night. He's still up there on the bed, I can't move him alone." Ludwig said, his voice was full of grief.
The two sat down on the couch, both of them completely blindsided by the news. They buried their faces in their hands and silently started to cry. Neither had thought that Gil would kill himself. They had always thought that eventually, he'd die from the drugs or alcohol, which wasn't a delightful scenario either.
After a few minutes, they stood and nodded. Francis put his hand on Ludwig's shoulder, "Mon ami, you should stay here. Toni and I will move him onto a sheet and search his room for a note. Call the funeral home, you don't need to see his body again right now." The two friends proceeded up the stairs and grabbed a sheet from one of the hall closets.
They walked into Gilbert's room and didn't look at the body as they pulled him onto the sheet, covering him with the other half. They carefully searched the room, finally Toni looked in the obvious spot of the side table and picked up the note. They both washed their hands then went back downstairs, where Ludwig had just gotten off the phone with the funeral home.
A man would come to pick up the body so they could begin the lengthy process of setting up a funeral. Antonio set the note on the coffee table, the two on them had already read it and were looking at the ground. Ludwig picked it up and read it.
It spoke of how he hated himself for being addicted, but he knew that he would never be able to stop, even if he had therapy. How he felt he had been a terrible older brother and role model for Ludwig. How he hated Roderich for marrying Elizabeta, and he couldn't shake it. How he had loved Elizabeta so much that he could never get her off his mind, and how his heart had broken when they announced their engagement. How Ivan, another man that they had all grown up with, had been constantly hurting him psychologically recently. He said it was all to much of a burden for him to bear, that he simply couldn't take all the pain anymore. He was beyond sorry for all the grief that he had, and would put them through.
Ludwig set the note down and went to the phone again. He called over Elizabeta and Roderich. They came over and smiled, at the three men in the living room, but the smiles quickly disappeared as they read the grim expressions that they had. "What's wrong?" Roderich asked.
"Notre ami Gilbert is dead." Francis said simply, he barely choked it out.
"I-Is this some kind of sick joke? Where is Gil?" Elizabeth asked frantically.
Ludwig covered his eyes with his hands and shook his head. "He's upstairs, but I suggest you don't look at him."
"So you aren't joking?" Roderich asked.
Antonio shook his head, "He committed suicide en algĂșn momento anoche."
"Suicide? Y-you're absolutely sure it was suicide?" Elizabeta stammered out.
Francis nodded, "He shot himself in the head with a revolver and left a note."
"Where is this note? I want to read it." Roderich said.
Ludwig handed him the note. Roderich read the page and Elizabeta read over his shoulder. They both sat down on the couch, Ludwig went and brought them tea to calm their tears. Elizabeta had buried her face in her hands and was sobbing. Her hair covered her face from the view of the men. Roderich covered his eyes with one hand, small tears dripped down slowly.
"He loved me?" Elizabeta managed to say, her face still hidden.
"When we were younger, Gilbert told Toni and I that he hated you. Il said that you were always on his ming, and he hated that he had to feel so 'mushy' about you. He said that he knew he couldn't ever have you, so feeling like he did wasn't awesome." Francis said sadly.
Elizabeta looked up at them, tears still running down her face. "He never told me...If he had said something then-"
"You would have married him instead, and GIlbert still would be alive." Roderich finished for her, Elizabeta looked at Roderich completely shocked that he knew. "I've known since I met you, that you loved him more." She nodded slowly and resumed crying into her hands.
A few days later they held the funeral. Many people showed up to pay their respects. Ludwig sat in a chair, silently absorbed in his sadness. Elizabeta kneeled near the coffin, crying with her face in her elbow, her right hand gripped the mottled dead skin of Gilbert's hand. Roderich stood in the back, swallowing his tears. Francis and Antonio cryed and comforted eachother to the side of the room. Ivan stood in the center of the room, smiling a closed lipped smile.
Gilbert wore a black suit with a red dress shirt and a darker red tie. The funeral director had fixed the hole in his head with wax and had made him somewhat presentable. Upon request, Gilbert was dressed in red and black, Ludwig knew that his brother would have wanted that. In his coffin, flowers surrounded his corpse. Cornflowers, Gilbert's favorite flower, and tulips, Elizabeta's favorites. It symbolized that they had loved each other, although Elizabeta didn't know the other's feelings until too late.
Little Gilbert dressed in red,
lost his mind and now he's dead.
Little Ludwig dressed in black,
he'll never get his brother back.
Little Lizzy dressed in green,
sobbing sadly at the scene.
Little Roddy dressed in blue,
swallows sadness as it grew.
Little duo dressed in gray,
have been crying all the day.
Little Ivan dressed in white,
smiling at the grief in sight.
((AN: I wrote the couplets at the end at, like, 2 in the morning the night before I wrote the story to it. I just got the whole funeral image in my mind and went with it. I hope you liked it! I can't stop singing the couplets for some reason...Anyway, review please and all that.))
