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yxamix · 7 months ago

Text

Introspection

Chapter 0 : Prologue

When do you know it's going too far?

TW : Implied/references of drug use, heavy read, explicit language used

Based in a Modern/Realistic AU, depression/mental health focused storyline.

"Hey Jellal, we were thinking about hitting up that new club that opened up downtown, wanted to ask if you'd come along agai-"

He sighed.

Delete

"Yo bro! There's a sick rave we've all been invited to an-"

He swiped.

Delete

"You know we got some more of that shit and was thinking if you'd-"

He paused to take a pull.

Delete

His vision hazed as he watched the numbers of his inbox. They had accumulated again, just like before. And just like before, the numbers had grown higher.

They always were when he finally got the courage to face them.

How long had it been this time that he hadn't listened to them? A few weeks? No. More than that. A few months then? What was it? Time had become so irrelevant to him nowadays that he could not tell.

But it's not like he wanted to know how long he had been running away either.

Briefly closing his eyes, he lifted the roll up to his lips again. He dragged it on longer this time, feeling his thoughts go blank for a period. The relief it gave him made him unwilling to move from such a state until he had to be released.

Exhaling the built up smoke above him, he felt the remnants burn his eyes a bit. Making it blurrier than it already was. Darker than it already was too.

The sight in front of him was as if it reflected the state of his mind in those few seconds.

Murky.

Vague.

Invasive.

Impermanent.

Until it all dispersed.

And he'd have to take another pull again.

Looking down at the lit screen of his phone, he selected the next message he would listen to. Hoping that reducing those numbers he saw piling up in his inbox would help clear some of his conscience.

But the next one didn't let him relieve himself like that.

"...Jelly?"

It was her again.

"..How are you?"

The woman he didn't want to hear of.

"I tried to call you a few times today but you were busy again."

Because each time he did, she brought it back to him.

"It's okay though, boys your age have a lot going on in their life."

His mistakes.

"You have so many friends now too, and I don't want to keep you from having a good time with them."

His misguidance.

"But I'm just not used to you having moved out yet."

"I don't know if I ever will be."

His melancholy.

"I know you get tired of hearing it, but you're my baby boy Jelly. I just worry about you so much."

Everything he wanted to ignore.

"I'm sorry I call you so much, it's getting annoying isn't it? I'm sorry. I know you're grown up now and you don't have much time but please do call back."

"Please don't forget us even though you're going more into the world now."

"Me, Siegie and even your Papa, we all want to hear from you I promise."

"Take care of yourself Jelly and always remember we all love you."

"I love yo-"

Delete

He swallowed.

Another voicemail from his mother. One of these was sprinkled amongst every handful of messages he went through in his inbox. Her soft and honest voice never stopped tormenting him each time he heard it. The pain woven in her voice couldn't hide, no matter how hard she tried to conceal it.

It always came through regardless.

She was a bad liar.

Just like him.

But he wasn't going to expose his lies to her anytime soon.

Stretching against the suede material of the sofa he had crashed on, he wondered to himself just like any other time, why did he do this?

Why was he heartless enough to ignore her and her every desperate attempt to reach out to him, yet not heartless enough to not feel guilt and heaviness with each word she left for him in her messages that would only ever be dismissed?

He probably wouldn't ever be.

He wasn't like that.

But it's times like this he wished was.

Then it would be easier for both of them.

Reaching over to the glass table beside him, he grabbed a hold of the can of beer he had been sipping from every now and then. He didn't know why he did that either. The taste of beer wasn't something he found pleasant yet he kept taking modest sips of it anyway.

Perhaps because the burn it created in his throat felt deserved and that's why?

Really that's what his life was now.

Doing things without ever really knowing the reason why.

But then again, maybe that's how it had always been?

And it just took nights like this to realise.

He cleared his throat from the burn of booze passing down before taking another hit. As his brain clouded up whilst the smoke was inhaled, he felt himself instantly shift from his heaviness holding him down, to a state that allowed him to continue with his outstanding messages.

"Jellal bro! We're all going out and-"

Delete

"Heyyyy Jellaaal! Do you wanna-"

Delete

When listening to the current voicemails, his finger instinctively trashed them by a few words in. He didn't need to lie to himself now, he didn't really care about the contents of these messages at all.

The only reason he would listen to them for that split second, is with the hope it would relieve some of the burden those rising numbers impressed on him.

To be able to say that he at least did that if nothing more.

It was selfish and it was deceptive, but he wanted to get this tedious cleans over and done with soon.

It wouldn't be truthful, but at this point, what about him was?

He kept going through his inbox absent-mindedly until a change in tone caught his attention and forced him to listen and be present.

"Mr Fernandes, you missed your appointment on the 10th, we are calling to know if you'd like to reschedule with-"

Delete

Ah.

"Mr Fernandes we called up before to inform you of a missed appointment on the-"

Delete

That was right.

There were a number of appointments he had been missing for a while now too. And for some reason he didn't want to follow up on them, when truthfully that would have been the wiser thing.

But it's ever since the diagnosis was made, the help he should have been going for, he soon started to avoid.

And he started to look towards other places for alternatives.

Resolutions.

Which would work for some time.

Until they wouldn't.

And ruined him more in return too.

"Mr Fernandes your prescription has been ready to pick up for 3 months now-"

Delete

Taking another puff, he watched the dirty white glow transiently before his eyes lazily threw a glance at his said 'alternatives'.

On the littered glass table beside him was the evidence of his spiraling.

Things he would have never seen himself using, things he never thought he would be abusing, but it was there by no mistake. In front of him in plain sight. Cartons, bottles and pouches. Empty or becoming empty during another one of these nights that refused to move to the next day.

Life would be going so fast until it would stop.

And when it did, that's when he found himself like this again.

Trying to make it move again.

But regardless, the passing of time never stopped being painful.

Using the back of his hand which he held his cigarette with, he rubbed the side of his eyes, hoping sleep would come to him anytime now. And stop his under eye bags and dark circles from getting more obvious than they already were.

Another sigh fell from his throat as he looked at the dark room around him, wondering how long it would be until the light would hit again. The time lit on his phone told him there were still hours ahead until sunrise. On top of that it was winter too, so the wait would undoubtedly be long.

Trying to pass the time yet again, he went back to going through his inbox. There were a few more reminders from the doctor mixed in with some invites from his friend, and on top of that like he already expected, another few voicemails from mom.

"Jelly hi! It's mama again-"

Delete

"Oh! I actually wanted to quickly ask-"

Delete

"And then I also forgot to tell you-"

Delete

This time he couldn't stand being tortured.

Just hearing the return of her voice had him instinctively trashing them.

The fact she would send so many at once, he could tell why. Hoping that he'd see at least one of them out of the many she piled up, hoping that one of them would catch his attention.

Since he wasn't picking up her calls anymore and calls from himself were once in a blue moon, she resorted to the next best thing.

Sending conversations in hope one of them he'd respond to.

But all she did was talk to herself.

He hated it.

She gave so much effort towards a son that couldn't give her any.

Every time it got harder to.

That's why it was easier to hide away.

But either way that never stopped her.

And only made him spurn more too.

His fingers shook slightly as he held the phone, trying to clear all the messages with her name over them. At times his thumb slipped and it would start her voice, causing his heart to writhe with that deep seated pain from listening to her again, and he'd silence her immediately.

He kept doing that until her name was cleared from what he could see of his screen now. There was no doubt in his mind that he would find more from her if he just scrolled further up, but for now as long as he didn't see that name, it would be better.

As he cleared up his inbox, there were a few other names he came across which he hadn't really heard of in ages now. And these names were mixed with those that tried to replace them.

"Hey Jellal?"

He paused.

"What's up man? It's been so long, oh my god."

Stunned from hearing a voice he didn't really expect to hear again.

"We need to meet up again bro, ever since you went off and did your own thing you barely remember us lot."

From being reminded of a connection that was so different to what he lived by now.

"Call up when you get this alright?

"Honestly bro I wanna see you."

From being reminded of what he had.

"We need to hang out like old times."

And what he was losing.

"I hope you're not just forgetting the past now that you're going places."

Erik still wanted to check up on him, it was surprising.

It had been years now since they had gone their separate ways, and he didn't really think about him as much as he should have for someone he grew up with.

He didn't know why either.

His heart was touched by the fact that his old friend reached out to him after so long, but the warmth was quickly lost as guilt took over and writhed in him further when he remembered Erik was barely a passing thought to him in these current times.

Some part of him wondered if it was mom that told Erik to try and call up on him, he wouldn't have put that past her as if he wasn't answering her, she might have thought that he'd answer to someone else.

But such a thought felt cruel.

As Erik didn't dislike him, he never did. He would have done something like this on his own incentive, he shouldn't have discredited him like that.

The two of them grew up together, were like brothers all the way up until they couldn't take the same path anymore. Practically inseparable until the distance grew and life went on for the both of them. And he never went to close it between them.

Erik…He was a good friend.

He however…

He wasn't.

Delete

Not anymore.

He deeply inhaled, trying to relieve the heaviness that he wasn't prepared for.

Looking over at the cigarette he had been taking his hits from, to his dismay it was reaching the end of it's life. Sighing he took the last pull that was possible so he could savor the bitterness once more before smashing the remnants on the glass table beside him, snuffing out the fire and glow.

He wondered…

Should he reach for another one since this one was finished?

He bounced the thought around in what was left of his head until ultimately deciding against it. Though it was tempting, he couldn't be throwing his health away more than he already was.

Barely in his mid twenties and God only knew what problems were underlying in him from these new habits.

With his (now) free arm he brought it over, using it as a support for the back of his head as he moved about a bit to get comfortable again. It was something he had to do every now and then since sinking into the suede of the sofa didn't remain as pleasant when he had been like that for hours.

After that readjustment, he went back to going through the list of names and numbers, being greeted by those he knew were coming again, making the act of committing to his cleanse for his conscience easier until he got some other messages that had him pausing again.

"Hey babeee, want to-"

There was no need to listen to the rest of that message to know what would follow. And honestly there was only one reason he kept connections like that, but if he had to be frank, in recent times he had barely been interested in that too.

Sex was once intimate.

A pleasure.

Now, regardless of what angle he looked at it from...

It was a chore.

The effort needed to pick someone up, to act in a certain way to try and get something going…

It got tedious .

Sometimes he wanted it. Sometimes it made the nights pass. But other times it made him feel trapped. And tonight was one of those times.

It had been like this for some time too.

Having the option was good.

But he wasn't looking to indulge in it now.

He didn't know when he would again.

Delete

Since his mouth had it's fill of tobacco for the night, he wanted something else to accompany that harsh taste. Unfolding his arm he had used as the support for the back of his head, he reached over to take a few more sips from the open can beside him.

Though the taste was bitter and scalding, he hoped that whatever was left inside could help his eyes close quicker.

It was getting heavier with each sip, so perhaps it was working.

But still he was too present for his liking.

As the burn settled in his throat from his latest sip, he commenced going through the outstanding message. Again, a mixture of new names, names that only called him or he only called when something was wanted, and then the name he wanted to avoid.

At some point his vision started to fade as he kept looking on; whilst listening to the snippets of messages that were deleted without him needing to see. It felt like he would finally give into the darkness, but that's when he heard a voice that stole him straight from it's longed embrace.

"Hey….Jellal?"

His features twitched, unsure of who's voice he heard.

"It's me."

But hearing what they said next confirmed what his brain already started to connect.

"I know we haven't spoken in some time and things didn't end well between us but…"

It was her.

"I've been worried about you."

Another person he didn't think to hear from.

"I'm glad you didn't block me, I really wanted to talk to you but I didn't know how to come about with it until now."

Another person he wished to avoid.

"Call me back when you hear this, okay?"

His eyes blinked open, slowly seeing her name fill his vision and he just stared at it, not knowing what to do.

Erza.

She was the last person he expected to want anything to do with him with how it ended up between them. She wasn't happy with him, they both knew that, so what was making her come back?

The last he had heard about her, she had a new boyfriend. Someone more considerate, someone better suited and overall better for her. Someone who wasn't problematic nor felt unnatural. Someone that would make her happy, unlike him.

And he was happy for her, he truly was.

But why was she trying to talk to him now?

His thumb hovered over her name, shocked still that it would exist again in his recent contacts with all that happened between them. Their ending wasn't as explosive as it could be, but neither was it sweet either.

A sudden death was what it really felt like, or perhaps what had been between them had already been dying before that, and she just made him realise it.

Either way it wasn't going to work out between them like that and he came to accept that.

She wanted things that he couldn't give her.

She dreamed of things between them that he could barely see.

She wanted someone from him that he couldn't be.

Lingering feelings weren't enough to save what was between them.

But he wasn't bitter, she deserved better.

He came to peace with that decision.

And he believed she did too.

So why was it that she wanted to talk to him again?

Shouldn't he have been a closed chapter in her book by now?

Ghosting over her name with his thumb, he briefly contemplated what he should do. And before he knew it, her name also suffered the same fate as all the others he had gone through.

Delete

The weight felt like it increased in his heart, deeper than he thought it would, and adding on to the gaping hole he could feel tearing into him more. Some part of him wanted to look at that name just a little longer, try and build on that hope he killed.

But it was dangerous.

And he didn't want to drag her down again.

He couldn't deny, it was sweet that she was worried about him. It was sweet that she even gave him any thought at all after all these months when things became sour. But really, someone like her shouldn't have been concerned with the likes of him.

They were from two different worlds, and the boundaries couldn't be blurred like they believed they could.

People talked.

The world talked.

It didn't consist of just the two of them.

Everything that happened between them, someone else had a second opinion to say.

And at some point it couldn't be ignored.

He didn't blame her though. The world's judgment would be and was definitely more sound than his own. And ultimately he did want what was best for her, even if it wasn't himself.

And he knew it wasn't himself.

Even if she wanted to believe otherwise.

Scrolling through his remaining list of names and numbers he looked to see if her name existed anywhere else. It wasn't the case. But fact brought conflict to his heart.

He didn't wish to ponder on it so he went on to the other names yet to filter through to distract himself. As he was doing that though, there was a change in the usual tone he would open his messages to.

"Oi why aren't you picking up your phone anymore?"

"Always ghostin now and shit."

"Do you want us to beg to bring you out or somethin?"

"If you wanna be a little bitch about it, suit yourself."

A hostility he didn't expect.

And going through the chain of messages from his new friends, he found a lot of them adopted the same tone too.

"Why the fuck you always hiding now?"

"You're meant to be part of the group but you're acting like a right pussy."

"Stop being a fucking attention whore, the world can't revolve around you. We all have lives of our own you know?"

"Are we supposed to drop everything for you and wait at your feet?"

"Inconsiderate cunt."

But he couldn't say that he was completely surprised.

Delete

The new group of people he hung out with, he learned they weren't the nicest. A lot of them didn't hold back the sharpness of their tongues either. They were mean, judgmental, self-absorbed and shallow. Not the sort of people you'd call friends proudly.

And to be honest, he didn't know why he had.

At first he believed them to be alike. Lost souls though hurt and troubled by the world around them, finding distraction and comfort in what could take the pain away. While those words were not a lie, just because there was common ground like that, it didn't mean they understood each other.

Or that they even wanted to begin to.

Just because all of you were in a hard place, didn't mean that the support needed would be automatically created.

The world wasn't like that.

Misery loves it's company.

He had every reason to leave, he knew what they were doing to him.

What he was doing to himself.

Yet…

Somehow…

He remained put.

Because perhaps their thinly veiled cruelty resonated with himself. Their self absorption reminded him of his own. Their suffering reminded him of his own. And their self destruction was like his own too.

He lost his feeling of belonging in the world.

And through them, he thought he would find it.

It was wrong.

But he had gone so under he didn't have the strength to wander once more.

Yet with what he could hear in the voice of his false comfort, they would drop him soon. He would be homeless again. A vagrant again. And there would be no one but himself to blame for it.

His vision had become blurred again at some point in time. From listening to the sharp but truthful voices telling him what he already knew. From listening to that which he tried to hide in. From listening to those he tried to hide from until, eventually, a new voice spoke back to him.

"Oi you traitor."

One that was like his own.

"Can't believe you move out and don't even think to contact the single most important guy in your life once."

"That's considered an unforgivable treason in my books, but since it's been some time I'll allow it."

Even though the sides of his face had become wet, he couldn't help the small smile that had cracked at the dramaticness of the obnoxious voicemail. Of course, the first he would hear of his brother again would be through words like that.

But his smile didn't last long when Siegrain's tone also changed to everyone else's.

"No but seriously idiot, have you forgotten us or something? You can't have. That isn't like you."

And even he was questioning him.

"I know things were tense between you and our old man before you left and you don't wanna talk to him. And to be honest I don't blame you, he's always been hard to talk to, you leaving didn't make it any easier."

"But like, that's him."

"What have I done?"

And he too was asking things he didn't have the answers to.

"And Mom?"

"What did she do?"

Or that he was too ashamed to say.

The fact that his overly carefree twin was also getting involved told him how far he was going. And it's not like he didn't know it, he did. He wasn't ignorant of the damage he was doing by any means. But even so, he couldn't stop himself.

He didn't know why, he just couldn't.

"Do you know how much she speaks about you?"

Given how things had become at the household, he didn't think his name would be something she mentioned so openly with all the tension that it would stir up.

But Mom wasn't like how Grandma or Grandad were to his father. Even if he was becoming a lost cause, she wouldn't just act like he was dead like they did to Dad.

She wouldn't act like he did the biggest sin against them.

But now he wished she did.

It would have been better for her if she had.

What did she seek to accomplish by doing such things?

Thinking about it, he wondered if Sieg calling him was another thinly veiled desperation of their Mom trying to reach him. If she nor Erik worked, was it that she resorted to Sieg next?

But before he could chase that thought, his brother quickly disproved that notion with what he said next.

"And before you even begin to think about it."

As if he could tell where his train of thought was going.

"She didn't tell me to call you up."

Was it that transparent now?

"...Okay well she did, but like I did this on my own initiative. You're not the only one with your own life, I've been busy with my own shit and I couldn't find the time."

"But like, why wouldn't I do this? It's not like you're a stranger or someone I don't care about. You're my brother. And like, I realised how quiet it's been since you left. Even more than before."

"Even Erik told me the other day that he hadn't heard from you much since you left and that's when I knew something was up."

"I can understand you ignoring me, like I'm that annoying shithead little brother who gave you more reasons then one to leave on the side for adoption if you could. But Erik? Your best friend since like the time you guys could talk?"

"And Mom too? The woman who has been nothing but good and loving to us. To YOU. The one that's always been there for you before anyone, even me."

"This doesn't make sense."

He was right.

"This isn't like you Jellal."

It wasn't.

"I don't know why you're acting as if it is."

He didn't know either.

But he couldn't tell him that.

"You know someone from our highschool also called up the other day? Asked how you were doing. If you were doing any better. I forgot the dude's name, but I remember it having like Mac in it and it sounded like a book we studied in English."

"Anyway Mac, he didn't have your personal number so I guess he called us up with what you gave him before. Mom told him you moved out anyway though, and she gave him your new number but she told him you don't pick up much since you're so busy."

"I don't know what happened after that. But either that probably didn't go ahead with it or maybe he did and you never heard it yet."

He couldn't answer that for himself either.

Macbeth was concerned about him too? That was surprising. It made him wonder why when the two of them only spend sparse moments together when in high school. Really he had only spoken to the guy before exams or something revolving class since they both were performing similarly.

Once again the sentiment was sweet, but it's pleasant feeling didn't last long as he couldn't even tell if he had ever seen Macbeth's call. Did it ever come through or was it another he mindlessly dismissed and deleted during one of these cleansing sessions.

He didn't know.

But he didn't have time to try and recall an answer as Sieg went on to bring him out of that spell of self-loathing.

"Whatever the case is, people are asking Jellal. People know something's up and they've known for some time now. It's not just Mom, it's not just me. Erik and even old friends are asking about you."

"Why do you keep ignoring everything?"

Yet again something he couldn't answer readily.

But what Sieg said next only brought back the spell of self loathing he saved him from.

One that was more raw and bitter than any other and he hated to face.

"I shouldn't need to tell you all of this. You should know this on your own and honestly you probably do."

"I don't get it."

"You've always been the considerate one. The responsible one. You've always been the perfect one. The one Mom and Dad were proud of most. The one that people liked the most."

"What's happened?"

"It doesn't make sense to me!"

"Like what you're doing is meant to be me! I'm the troublesome little shit that's meant to get Mom and Dad's hairs graying early. Not you."

"You can't take my place like that."

Sieg was trying to be light hearted, but hearing those words had his teeth grating in his mouth. The tension rose in his body without warning from listening to those labels that he couldn't understand anymore. They didn't resonate with him nor did they mean anything now and hearing them was almost a form of mockery.

The bitterness spiked so sharply that he almost cut the voicemail short, but the subject changed again which gave him the shift he needed to listen on.

"Talk to us Jellal."

"Please."

"Whatever you're going through, tell us."

"Tell me."

"I swear, even with as much of an ass I can be, I'll listen.

"I swear Jellal."

"You know what happened to Dad and his brother. Fuck, his whole family. You know what happened to them. I don't want us to be like that."

"With the way things are going it's looking like that, and I don't want it to."

That comparison Sieg made wasn't one that was new to him. It troubled his own mind more often than not. How their dad and his own brothers became estranged, even before Dad was sent to prison.

How one of his uncles became a drug addict during his own youth and becoming a highschool dropout followed not long after. Then on top of all that, kicked out for failing his second chance and becoming dead to the family for years.

Their dad suffered an even crueler fate than that.

And their family was still paying for it.

"I'm sure you don't want it like that either."

He agreed with his brother's words. Never did he want their family to become so pulled apart that it created the same bitterness left in Dad's own. That couldn't even heal after the wounds were long closed.

He never wished for the past to repeat itself.

But he didn't know why he wasn't able to stop it.

He had done everything just so the pain would stop.

So the family would be happy.

But somewhere that intention had inverted.

His actions didn't match up to them anymore.

And he didn't know why.

"So stop all of this!"

"I don't care, you better call me back or I will find you myself and I'll make you talk to me."

"Don't doubt my ability to do that!"

"And for God's sake, talk to Mom already!"

That was the last of Sieg's voice in the message. He stared at the voicemail that had come to it's send, unable to decide what to do with it. Not because of the threats at the end, but his brother had him feeling conflicted again.

Even more than before.

There was something strangely cruel in hearing Sieg's voice compared to anyone else. Perhaps because it was as if his own voice was speaking to him, telling him what he knew deep down and bringing it out into the open where he didn't want it. And Sieg knew more than anyone else, he knew how to say things where they would hit.

He didn't make waste of that in his attempt to reach out.

His thumb hovered over his name just like it did with anyone else's before. But for some reason, this time he found himself unable to commit to his will to be ignorant. Something stopped him from pretending Sieg's message never existed.

He couldn't tell why.

But it felt a graver sin to do the same to him that he had done to everyone else.

So he didn't.

Instead he went to the next message above his, trying to wash his mind of his brother's words, hoping he would go back into that state of ignorance. But without realising who the next message was, he was greeted by another voice that was one he definitely didn't want to hear.

" Jellal."

Because it was one that spoke to him more directly then Sieg ever did.

"I know you don't wish to speak to me, and I will not ask you to."

"But since it's nearly been a year since you moved out, I wanted to ask you."

"Are you happy with your decision?"

"Do you feel liberated now?"

"You said you didn't feel home here, then have you found your home now?"

It was impossible to tell with what intention those words were asked to him with. Was it in mockery? Was it in anger? Was it in sincerity? Or was it the same as him? Asking an answer for the sake of it.

Dad's voice was emotionless as ever. Calm as ever. He couldn't understand his emotions just like he couldn't with his. But somehow, even with this disconnect between them, their father always could say something that struck straight on the target. Even now with these questions he posed out of nowhere, he couldn't help but feel caught.

Because some part of him believed Dad knew the answers to those questions he asked even before he did.

And with what he said next confirmed it.

"You don't need to tell me that answer, that's for you to contemplate and to come to an understanding of."

"Also contact your mother, have whatever issue you want with me, but don't make her suffer for it."

"And one more thing."

"Don't think hiding away is going to solve any of your problems."

If there was anything that left him speechless from what his dad said, it was those last words. He felt himself shake from how direct that comment was, he had seen right through him.

And now that father's voice came to cease, just like with the others, he found himself staring at his name, watching it taunt him on the dimly lit screen, forcing him to comprehend that which he didn't want to.

He just sat there in silence, shuddering and listening to his father's last words echo in his brain. He wanted that voice of his to shut up, he wanted to stop hearing that ridicule, he wanted to stop hearing that clear cut truth.

Wanting to be rid of that taunt, he went on to try and listen to the next messages that were left, in hope they would cleanse his father's message.

Cleanse the emotions he left stirring in him.

But no.

"Jellal please talk to me."

Delete

The next messages only added on.

"W-What have I done wrong?"

"P-Please tell me s-so I-I can fix it-"

Delete

"Pleas-"

Delete

"I-I want to be a good mom."

Delete

"J-Just please let me k-know and i'll be-"

Delete

"I-I'm so sorry-"

Delete

"I-I don't know what I did wrong-"

Delete

"P-Please J-Jellal!"

Delete

At some point he couldn't even tell what he was pressing anymore. Her voice became all he heard.

Out of all the messages he skimmed through, he never failed to single in on the increasing pain that grew with each message he deleted.

Running away could only do him so much, his father was right, but his sins were too heavy to face. Each broken word and bout of desperation he pushed her towards and for what, the scales got heavier.

There was nothing stopping him answering her or anyone, not even pride. What was there to be proud of in a state like this?

Yet why did the only answer he turned to was to keep quiet?

And how long would he be able to?

It couldn't go on like this.

Using the inner palm of his hand he wiped the sides of his eyes, feeling the rawness of his skin itch from the touch. He sighed to himself quietly, allowing for once a sob to break through from his throat as the phone shook from his hand and the first reply he could muster left him in a whisper.

"I'm sorry.."

As the words left him in confession all he could wonder was…

How had it all…

…Come to this?

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