Hey look! I'm back again! With another chapter! …okay, so It's short, but it has meaning. Please don't bludgeon me with hard objects for the long long wait… I promise I'll write another chapter soon!
Well, lookit this… my first update after my birthday… jeesh, that was soon. My birthday was December first, just to tell you peoples. And again, I'm sorry for not updating for so long, but I tried writing in NaNoWriMo… man, did I suck. Ah well, anyways. Fic. Yes.
Just wondering, has anybody tried out this new thing called the Flu? It really helps you lose weight. -_-0
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the trashcan I so love to fill with dirty snotrags and my flu germs. Oh, and this spiffy necklace. *ahem* IZ is © Jhonen C. Vasquez.
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Dib stared at the ceiling of his temporary foster home, unable to sleep because of the nightmares and pondering over his meaningless existence. Why was he still alive? His reasons for living had been given a beating, being ripped away one by one, then torn to shreds and tossed into the void, the void he thought he belonged in now. The void of death, really. Dib wasn't sure why he thought of death as a void, but that was how he imagined it, a black void where time nor anything else had an affect. Kind of like sleep without dreams, in a way.
After Professor Membrane and Gaz passed from this world to the next, Dib had come close to deciding he would die, too. After all, truly, he should have died too. He had been in the same frigging car, but he hadn't been hurt, for some miraculous reason.
But he hadn't wanted to be saved. He hadn't wanted to be saved after seeing what he had. He would have rather lied there, until he turned to dust or something like that. He had once thought he loved life, but he was back in the real world, where everything sucked. He thought that he'd be able to scavenge some will to live, and find a good way to live again, but it hadn't ended up like that.
Dib had been brought back to the real world when he woke up in Zim's house. In the real world, he wasn't wanted. In the real world, nothing would allow him to survive, to scavenge a will to live. The world wanted him dead. Hell, offplanet people wanted him dead as well, Zim was enough to prove it.
Zim. Zim. He could have been a lifeline, something to keep Dib alive in some way, a purpose for Dib's life. But Zim's life was a joke, or so he claimed. Either way he didn't seem to be trying to take over Earth anymore. There went Dib's lifeline. He really had no reason to live anymore. In some twisted way, Zim could have kept him alive. But not anymore. Zim…
Dib felt on the verge of a realization, but was just too tired of anything to figure it out. he sighed as the feeling crept away, not able to help but feel like he'd missed something important. But, it didn't matter.
He still got beat up at skool. No sympathies there, the other skool kids were more than happy to continue beating him up. In some twisted way, Dib didn't mind, even felt it was a punishment for still being alive, when he truly felt he should have been dead. The only time that Dib had felt okay, really, was that time he and Zim sat together at lunch. It was either earlier that day, or yesterday. Dib wasn't sure, he didn't have a clock and couldn't tell if it was AM or PM.
The only problem had been that, after skool, he'd been beaten up worse than usual. It seemed the skool kids now thought he was gay, just from sitting with Zim. That idea, jammed in the heads of the other skool kids, had opened up a new door to physical pain Dib hadn't felt before.
He had come to his foster home with a nose that felt like it was broken (it hadn't been, but it felt like it), a bleeding lip and a rib that probably had been cracked. His nose throbbed with phantom pain as he recalled fixing it earlier. It had been bleeding so bad he thought he might end up inadvertently crying blood, just from the backup.
The worst part had been when the emergency foster parents didn't notice how much he bled, only told him to go clean up "That little nose bleed." Dib managed fine, but the lack of concern from anybody at this particular time was almost stabbing.
Speaking of stabbing, Dib found he had a new interest in knives. Painkillers, as well. Something inside him asked, would it be wrong to help death along? The world didn't want him to live, that much was obvious. So why was he still there in the first place?
Now that was a question. Dib pondered it for a second, then came to a twisted conclusion. The world, probably the universe, didn't want him, so the only other thing there was, was death. And, he had power over that. He could chose if he was going to live or die. And life wasn't particularly inviting at the moment, and he doubted it would be in the future.
Dib smiled to himself a bit grimly, touching the blood encrusted edge of his nose. He grabbed at a bit of the scab, quickly pulling it off and starting a bit of bleeding back up. If the world didn't want him, well, who was he to argue with the world?
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