Scratchy, scratchy, scratchy…

There we go. Finally done with this goddamn pen, barely any ink left. Been like this for a few weeks now, hah. Just running on spit and hopeful dreams.

Should be a nice read. Not too accusatory, not too sappy. Just the perfect amount of desperation, some despair sprinkled in to tug at their heartstrings.

Ah, who am I kidding. It's terrible.

Doesn't matter though. It's good enough. Now, for the actual important matters, where did I leave that… Ah, there it is. The strongest alcohol money can buy, ha! Wonder if I should take a whiff, see if this stuff's actually…

Oh. Ew.

… Goodness, it is. I can already feel my throat burning.

Perfect.

Now, to lock the house after I leave… Or, let me think. Should I? Ah, hell. Let's make their job a little easier in the long run, leave the key under the doormat.

…

Mmmm… Morning, miss Bieri. Morning, mister Oertli. Nice day, huh? Perfect for a little walk around the city.

…

This place… What did he use to call it? A "cinnamon" shop? Huh. I can kind of see it.

…

Down the street, wonder if that gelato place's still open. Remember, honey? That's where we met. Or was it the one on Faber Avenue? Huh… I can't really tell. I know, I know, my memory's a bit cloudy, pardon me.

Let's see… That way to the Notarial Hall… That way to Michelangelo University. Wanna see it one last time? It's a bit of a walk, I don't know…

Ah, whatever. In another life.

Tap, tap, tap.

Hear how the bells ring out, sweetie?

How the angelic choirs sing?

You used to hate those annoying moans, I know. But you have to admit, they've never sounded quite as beautiful as they do right now, haven't they?

Ah, these streets. Too early for them to be bustling with life, is it? Can't even hear the chirping of those newsboys at this hour.

Fwoooosh,

How the creek flows. We used to spend hours by that little stream, remember? Before it got all covered with concrete, anyway.

Concrete and white paint, marbles and gold finishes.

That's all there is to this city, isn't it? A nice exterior, sure, but delve a bit deeper and…

… Ah, what am I even saying. Who am I kidding? I'm just being a sore loser again.

You see, darling? This little vicious cycle of self hatred and blaming everything else but myself got me in quite the doozy.

Good thing there's moments like these. Moments when I can sit back on this little bridge, look down at the creek… Maybe… Hehe, maybe flail my legs around like some brat.

My hands are shaking. My mind is a mess. I'm scared, sweetie.

I've already accepted the fact, told myself hundreds of times it'll be better this way, yet I'm genuinely terrified.

…

I know. I'll have one of these. One last ciggy, huh?

Oh, I know, I know. I always imagined you looking down upon me every time I lit one up, honey. Always waiting for your scolding to come but it never did.

…

… In,

…

… And out.

How soothing. I'd happily let this cancer roam my body in exchange for a peace of mind, even if just momentary. How I kept wishing for you to be here and tell me otherwise. It doesn't matter now, though.

Puff.

I'm selfish, aren't I? Inconsiderate and rotten to my very core. I kept showering you with flowery words of despair, knowing you never wanted any of it. I drove myself down into this pathetic ditch, dragging him with me.

Puff.

You hate to see me like this, don't you? I'm not the person I used to be, I know. I never will be. Then again, I won't be much anytime soon, anyway.

Puff.

And the boy? That's what hurts most.

I don't even know what to think. Do you understand how pathetic this is, sweetheart? That I can't even utter a few half-assed words about him? That I don't even know if he's still alive? That he hasn't reached out in ten months? That I've never truly reached out in fourteen years?

It's as if I've never known him. My own son.

…

Puff.

I'm disgusting.

I'm a stain on this world.

On these white marbles.

On your immortal mind, sweetie.

Every breath I take is a blasphemy against life itself.

This is my own little apocalypse.

I can feel my ulcerated body pulsating without a single purpose in mind.

I am a culprit, basking in the black tar of my crime. I am forever covered in a cloak of guilt and misery.

…

Puff.

…

I'll go wash it all off, honey.

Right here, in front of the great Notarial Hall. These mighty marbles. The empty chambers that lurk within. Let them be the only witness of my cleansing. Them… Ah, and how could I have forgotten about you? This little piece of paper, all my sappy anti war garbage. My memento. His ticket back home, hopefully. Don't want you getting caught up in the crossfire, do we? You're supposed to start a revolution, after all.

There. You should be safe here, bud.

As for me, I'd say it's time to get off the stage.

Let me just… Wash all this guilt off… Oh, this stuff stinks. Pffft… It feels so cold on my wretched body… Bleh, tastes even worse than I could've imagined. And how it burns…

Hopefully it burns strong enough to send me right into your arms, love.

I don't know if he's still here to hear it, but…

Goodbye Drew.

This is the least I can do for you.