#OAUUUUTGG

[pastriibunz]

Final Performance - Kai’s Perspective

Paring: None

Warnings: major spoilers for TKWDLM, depressive thoughts, [possible] suicidal ideation

Summary: Let It Out from Kai’s perspective.

I didn’t deserve this.

I don’t even know how I made it this far.

I don’t know how I haven’t died yet.

Practically everyone else has.

The three I met in that alley. (I think their names were Bob, Charlie, and Terry?)

The cops.

This entire town.

Uncle Mac.

…

And yet, I’m still here. 

With Paul and Emma.

I love them a lot.

They’re now family to me.

But I don’t deserve them.

I never did.

I’m horrible. I’m sick. I’m a monster.

I’m everything everyone thought I was.

I couldn’t even save one town.

How do I deserve to call myself a hero?

…

It’s not over yet.

The meteor.

If we can destroy it, this is all over.

I have to. I have to. I have to. 

Maybe then all my sins can be forgiven.

Paul wants to go alone?

No. 

I can’t let him.

He is worth it. He matters. His life has meaning. He deserves to live out his happily ever after. He doesn’t deserve to die.

I do.

I’m not letting him die. Not like that. Not if I can help it.

He agreed. Good.

I can at least save two.

…

Why is it so hard to say goodbye? 

Why does my chest hurt and my heart feel heavy?

I don’t want to leave him.

I don’t want to leave her.

But I have to.

I know what I have to do.

Goodbye, Paul.

Goodbye, Emma.

No. They deserve more than that.

Goodbye, Dad.

Goodbye, Mom.

I hope you two live the life you deserve, one free of turmoil.

…

I take my spot, center stage. It’s funny, dreading the thing I once loved.

And then, my fellow cast members the infected people enter.

Are they really people? 

It’s sickening, watching whatever it is take control of these once living people and use their bodies as it’s own little puppets, acting out its little story, spreading its message to those who’ll hear.

It whispers to me the promise of acceptance, murmurs of the praise I so desperately crave, mutters of the validation I have been missing, mumbles filled with sweet nothings and promises of the intimacy and love I seek.

It’s tempting.

It’s oh so tempting to give into its words, to allow it to scoop me up in its arms, to warm me with its loving embrace, to finally feel like I belong for once in my life.

To feel loved.

I want to be loved.

I want that more than anything.

And its promising me that.

But it’s lies.

It just wants me to be apart of it.

It doesn’t love me.

I am not loved.

I know that.

…

But maybe I am.

It tells me we’ll be family.

And I realize I already have one.

I am loved.

I am cared for.

I am accepted.

I don’t deserve any of it, but I am.

My father has done so much for me.

My mother has done so much for me.

My friends have done so much for me.

Paul has done so much for me.

Emma has done so much for me.

I don’t deserve this.

I love them dearly.

It says they don’t, for allowing me to die like this.

But it has to be done.

Someone has to die for everyone to be happy.

Besides, I want to die, right?

Isn’t that what I want?

I want to die.

I just could never find an out.

So I’d rather it be me.

I never really mattered that much, anyway.

…

It wants me to sing. I don’t want to.

…

It’s forcing me to sing. I don’t want to.

…

It’s making me throw my heart out onto a sliver platter, displaying the contents for the world to see. I don’t want to.

…

Is it torturing me? Forcing me to watch as it kills me from the inside out? Forcing me to watch my walls crumble, my integrity crash to the ground, and the mask of happiness I had carefully crafted for 8 years crack and break?

…

No.

…

It wants me to preform.

Preform for my final time alive.

Something personal, something grand, something flashy, something explosive for my final performance.

Fine.

I’ll give it exactly what it wants.

I want to die anyway.

…

It wants to stop me.

I won’t let it.

I want to die.

No.

I wanted to die.

But I found something worth living for.

I found somebody worth living for.

Two somebodies, actually.

And they’re worth dying for.

My life never mattered.

But theirs do.

Let them live.

God, help me out.

I’ll let it out.