Work Text:
I do not have anyone to lose. I am by myself, watching the lives of other people unfold and putting matters into my own hands when it comes to myself. I do not know what it is like, nor how it feels, to lose someone close to you. I know greediness, shame, and other emotions, but not the one feeling of losing a part of your family. I have no family. I am all alone.
Sometimes being alone can be wonderful. No responsibilities, not much to worry about. But then you get bored. You start talking to yourself. You begin to wonder what could have happened if you did things differently. What if’s begin popping up in your head constantly, to where you wake up with them and you fall asleep with them as the last thing on your mind. It’s almost like hell.
So you take yourself up on learning about other people. What they could have done better, to make their lives happier. What went wrong, and how it was like you. The universe is a fickle thing, and not one to be messed with. Let things die that should be dead. Let things live that should be alive. Don’t try and take matters in your own hands. The universe will repay you soon. Some sooner than others.
You’re probably wondering why I’m babbling all about this nonsense. Sometimes I wonder why I lose myself in my rambling as well. Sometimes, instead of speaking to yourself in your head, slowly driving yourself insane, you need an outlet. Those things can save your life. They can help you back on your feet. Maybe an outlet is more than one thing. Maybe sometimes it’s a person.
I knew a boy, although he doesn’t know me. Not well, however. This boy used to keep a diary. He was embarrassed, as most teenage boys would be, to be keeping a diary. He called it a notebook, and he kept it hidden from everyone. There was a time I suppose he thought his life was over. A time where he woke up every morning with an exhausted sigh and a dying urge to curl back up in his bed and never stand up again. Not unlike me or you, I suppose.
He lost someone dear to him. It was never his fault, no. It was the universe. Fate can be cruel, as well as rewarding. It took one of his loved ones. This boy was torn apart piece by piece, sent away to school, and put on a cloak of anonymity and hatred. He came off as irregular, an outcast, not unlike those people you saw that just gave off a strange vibe.
The universe rewarded him sooner than he thought. Although it took him some time to realize it. He was one of the lucky ones. He still had a chance to enjoy his lifetime and his years. You may be asking, Scratch, how do you know all of this.
I’m not one to tell my secrets. I’m just the old man that lives on the corner of Cherrystone and Avenue, close to the boarding school and not too far from the town centre. But I suppose everyone deserves to know things. And it’s quite an interesting story. I guess we should begin from the beginning, shall we?
***
December 30th
I’m doing this for mom and that’s the only person I’m doing this for. If you are reading this, you put this book down right fucking now or I swear to everything above, I might just hurt you.
Alright, I admit it, I’m not a happy fucking person. I go through every day regretting everything that comes out of my mouth, and I don’t even know why I actually have people I can call friends. My dad is an idiot crab-fisher up in the north and goddamn, he never comes home. Kanaya is the only decent being in this household, she knows how to handle stupid little kids who insist their bangs are too long and they have to go get a expensive haircut when I can easily take a pair of scissors to their head and finish the job. I guess I have that smart-ass hacker dick Sollux, and then not to mention Terezi. Ugh that psycho dragon-obsessed idiot. I’ve known her since I was 10, I mean, once she sticks to you, it’s like you have a leech, she doesn’t go away, no matter how many times you yell at her, she always comes back, just as annoyingly bouncy as ever. Stupid girl.
I care about those dumbfucks, I mean, their my siblings and friends right?
I nave Ic care tor then
Fucking pen running out of ink.
-Karkat Vantas.