I stumbled out of the hospital with guilt and confusion clouding my vision; Making it seem like Elizaveta was everywhere. How was I going to tell Elizaveta anyway!? We'd been married for six years now and we had planned to stay together forever... But I guess we only had two weeks, at the most, left. My head was spinning and my glasses had fallen off long ago in my haste to get out. Out of the hospital of bad news and back into Elizaveta's arms. Her arms were where I wanted to be right now, where I wanted to die. There was no denying it. I was practically the walking dead. The doctors had told me the truth. I was dying. And there was nothing anyone could do.
I considered myself a man of good social standing, an aristocrat, who you'd never catch running through a hospital parking garage rubbing his wet eyes with the back of his coat sleeve.
I didn't want to leave this cruel world which I always claimed to dread. Not yet at least. I wanted more time. Enough time. Enough time to kiss Elizaveta under the stars. And say goodbye to this circle, this circle we called the earth. I just- It didn't feel fair! I ran through the parking garage until I finally found my car and slipped into it. God, why would I have to leave. Leave Elizaveta. Ludwig and Gilbert. Vash and Lilli.
Everyone...
And then a scary thought hit me.
What would happen... After I died? After a week? I could imagine that some people would still mourn me. After a month? Would my piano be thrown out, along with my other possessions? After a year? Would I even cross people's minds? Would I just be the name on the tip of they're tongue? The lingering ghost in a room full of music and laughter. What would become of our shared memories? Would they rot like me? Or would they resurface like the sun after it submerges in the water at dusk. Now that I thought about it, I was very much like the sun. I would soon submerge in my sea of lost, but unlike me the Sun could look forward to to a new day. A tomorrow I would never have. The second I drown in the sea... It's the end. I would never come back up. I would only go deeper. Six feet deeper to be exact.
I looked around my small car. It was tidy and neat. Everything organized and in place. But right now I felt out of place. I was a mess in this organized small car. So, I fixed that. I looked around again. Now everything was like me. Messed up. I sighed and leaned back into my seat. What was I doing? Sitting here wallowing in my own self-pity and despair. I closed my eyes. I didn't care about that right now. So what!? I had a few days left to live anyway. I unbuttoned the top buttons of my shirt and searched my car. I was pretty sure that Gilbert had left some beer in here the last time I gave him a ride. I hadn't ever drank in m life, but right now- Oh, there it is! I looked at the tinted glass bottle full of happiness. Just what I needed. But how would I open it? I looked around but to no avail- Until I saw my keys. This could work right? I placed a key under the cap and kept applying force until- POP! The cap flew off the glass bottle landing somewhere, that I didn't care looking for.
I pulled the bottle to my lips. It smelled putrid. But Gilbert loved this stuff. So... I took a swig. This liquid burned it's way down my liquor-virgin throat. It felt like I was going to die... Oh, wait. I am. I coughed and wheezed... Before taking another swig. It burned just as much, or even more so. And then I got this weird feeling. Like a storm was brewing in my stomach and before I could control it, I opened the door and threw up. Damn it. I guess this is what I got for following Gilbert's sleazy and louche actions.
I looked down at the bottle in my hands and chucked it out the window. Damn, Gilbert. Damn him and his disreputable character. I felt something wet traveling down my face. My hand slowly touched my face. It was wet. Tears?.. Why was I crying!? Was it the liquor? Or the thought of my "friend" Gilbert. Whatever it was... It was making me depressed. I coughed as the tears rolled down faster. Why? I didn't know. I wasn't questioning it either. Strangely, it felt good too cry. I hadn't had a good long cry in years. And I didn't want it to end. The ongoing river of tears was a rock for me right now. It was the solid in this blurry, unclear reality. But was it even worth crying over my own petty problems? I was basically the walking dead. And each long minute I spent in this car, made it feel like dusk was approaching.