"Just fuck it."
"Moritz, wait!"
His fingers clenched into a fist. Angry tears brimmed his eyes as he ignored the concerned, parental tone of his best friend. .. The names the teachers had used were rolling around in his mind. His heart ripped in two. He wanted to cry, to curse. Sorrow wracked through his body as he threw himself onto the wet grass in front of the stream.
"Just stop it. I don't do sadness, not even a little bit. There's no need for this in a man."
He looked at his reflection. Messy curls piled on top of his head. Dark circles rung around his eyes as a result of sleepless nights. His uniform was rumped and untidy. But his eyes. Those eyes struck him most of all.
Full of sorrow, lost. A black hole filled the space where life once lived. Empty. Nothingness.
Disgust. Absolute disgust filled him to the crown of his head. How could he shame his father and mother like this? He prayed, clasping his hands together in desperation. He was praying for the hits and slaps to no bruise his delicate skin as much as the previous time. Though, he doubted it. He hadn't failed a test this time, but failed out of school.
Ernst Robel had passed instead of him! Yet he coldn't hold a grudge against the other boy, though. It wasn't in him to do so...
That was his downfall he supposed. He was too soft, too forgiing. He wasn't the ideal son. He was terrible at sports and now a failure. The son no father could be proud of.
"MORITZ!"
Melchior...
"Moritz, what is the matter? How was the meeting?"
God, how could he explain this without losing control? He sucked in an uneven breath. God he was shaking. He needed a cigarette desperately.
"...Failed."
The earth kept moving, time kep ticking. But Melchi stood still, his dark eyes opening wildely. "Moritz.."
"I failed the final exams," he said bitterly, shoving his hands into his pockets. He wished there was a smoke in his pocket. He pressed chapped lips together and stared down. Melchior was taken aback. "You studied! I helped-"
"Please Melchi, I know." Tears are burning again. One escapes. Shit.
He quickly wipes it away, but the Gabor boy sees it. "Moritz." "Melchi." He grasped his old friend's arm. "I don't know what to do. My father will disown me! I don't have anywhere to go!" "You cannot believe that your father would disown you, Moritz!"
He gulped and ran his hand through his dark curls. He couldn't speak. Words failed him. Finally, he released his hold on Melchior. His eyes traveled up to his friend's own eyes. "I-I have to go!" "Moritz..M-MORITZ!"
Melchior's pleading stoppedhim dead in his tracks. "You'll come to me. If he throws you out, you come to my house."
"...No promises."
His body trembled as his house came into view. The shadow of his Mama floated from window to window. A candle blew out and the frail wisp of a woman exited. He broke into a run towards his mother, throwing himself into her arms.
"Moritz? Darling, what is wrong?"
"Mama, tell me it will be alright."
"Was is los, mein liebchen?"
His hold on her only tightened. Frau Stiefel uttered a rasp of pain. "My son? Are you worried about your dear Mama?" He buried his face in her boney neck. Her health was failing rapidly. He'd come to terms that his Mama would go to Heaven. Soon.
"...Yes. Mama...I'm so scared."
"Oh Moritz." She drew her son into a lasting embrace. "I am frightened too," she quietly admitted to her tearful son. "Now, I am to meet Frau Gabor for tea. I'll be home soon, liebechen."
And she left him alone in the darkness...
He ran to his room, slamming the door behind him. He collasped into body-wracking sobs. One day. His father had given him one last day in the house, for his dying mother's sake. His fingers trembled while throwing books and clothing off his bed. A crack drew his attention. A broken frame. The fuzzy black and white family portrait lay destroyed. Much like his life.. His heart and stomach dropped. His knees gave way and he crumpled onto the gorund. Glass pierced through the uniform to his skin. Maroon liquid stained his trousers. Voices chorused together in his mind.
"Failure."
"Disgrace."
"Not my son."
Not my son.
The agony overwhelmed him.
He let out a blood-curdling scream. Why, God? Why did You allow this? Why did You choose ME to lead this life?
Slender fingers grazed oer a piece of glass. A sharp slit cut across his fingers. A hand closed around the shard, pressing it deeper into his skin and creating a crimson pool. One stroke across his neck, he thought. One slice would end it all...
Mama.
His poor, dying mother. He couldn't let her die with the memory of her son laying and convulsing in a pool of blood.
Something quick, painless.
A bullet. Right through the temple.
It wasn't hard to retrieve the weapon. His father kept it under his bed in a box. The lock was rusted all over. It was too easy to break it.
Should he write a note? No. How could he explain something so complicated? Melchior would tell them all-
Melchi...Frau Gabor.
His soul soared. For the first time in days, hope filled him. He'd write to Frau Gabor. America. A new chance, a new life! He despaired no longer.
(Just fuck it, right, enough, that's it)
No.
(You'll still go on)
She denied. She didn't care..
(Well, for a bit)
He crumpled the letter and tossed it into the fireplace.
(Just another day of utter shit!)
His throat let go of a mournful scream. He let his mind sink deeper into the hole. There was nothing.
(And then there were none)
The gun's siren song beckoned him.
(And then there were none)
The metal cooled his fiery skin. His lips pressed to the silver.
(And then there were none)
He flung open the door and fled into the night.
(And then there were none!)
"You know, by the time you wake up I'll be lying in some trash heap."
She darted away, the light fleeing from him. Words failed him yet again. A tentative step was taken towards the angelic girl who left him.
(God, I dreamed there was an angel)
"For the love of God, all I had to do was say yes!"
"ILSE! ILSE!"
Please, don't leave me again..
"I can't stay here any longer! He'll kill me, Moritz! I swear one day they'll find my corpse in a mess of garbage."
Stranding him by the pond in the moonlight. Just like two years ago.
"I don't want you to..." "I don't either."
The boquet pressed to his nose. How sweet the smell..
"Don't you forget me." "How could I? You'll always be my Pirate Captain." "And you my brave First Mate, Ilse."
"I'll tell them. The angels."
(Oh Western Wind)
"I GOT DRUNK IN THE SNOW!"
(When wilt thou blow?)
"And sang"
(The small rain down..the rain)
"And played pirates!"
(Christ, were, my love in my arms)
"...Ten minutes ago, you could see the entire horizon."
(And I in my bed)
"Now..only darkness."
(Again..)
"So dark."
Click
"So dark."
His lips quivered. The craving for metal almost over-powering.
"So...dark."
Lips wrapping around the opening. A splitting pain in his skull.
Then.
Nothing..
Nothing...
Nothing at all
But peace
At last.