SgtEasy — Roleplayer Guild

It is your decision, as the reader of this following piece of text, to make your own decision. Had Jejomar actually done it? What was the fate befallen on poor Echo? Why is everyone giving him the cold shoulder? Where is Karaoke Jay?

I leave this all up to you.

WARNING: It's kinda dark. I've been in a dark mood today so I let it out on this one.

Jejomar sighed softly, a puff of air showing his sadness. It had been three weeks. Three agonising, tearful weeks since her hospitalisation. It was and still is torture to him, visiting his loved one everyday, the only thing that indicated her heart was still pumping, a cold-hearted machine. No smile, no laugh, not even a flutter of the eyes. No embrace, no kiss, nothing to ease this broken heart. These last three weeks made him ache, desire and lust. He spiralled down into the void, nothing but pity and petty sympathy to comfort him 'They don't know how it feels.' The tiny voice in his head lingered before it drifted away as he took another swig of brandy.

Brandy. It was her favourite, it was the drink she had when they first... kissed. His eyes became watery as closed them, willing himself to be stronger. Every reminder of her made him physically pained. Club Pinnacle? A proverbial kick to the groin. The Mighty Bean? It made him queasy, sick, made his stomach churn, like a slit to the throat. The apartment they shared? Torture to the soul, a mental whip lashing out on him with every second he was in that once peaceful place. He stared dully to the ever present alcohol in his hand. It was the only thing to dull the pain, to quench the thirst for her love.

He had chosen to drink in a quiet place, a small bar in one of the few silent neighbourhoods in San Fransisco. He felt nauseous, like he was about to throw up in his mouth. But then again, why would that matter? It dulled the pain, that was all that mattered to him. He hadn't even bothered to reach out to his friends, denying them with each request. When he visited her, Tas would be there as the group's personal doctor. After a week of pestering and attempted comfort, she had gone into strict professional mode. "It's fuckin' better than what the rest of them did." He muttered in his breath, moping. The rest avoided him like a disease, afraid of his sudden alcoholism. Karaoke Jay wasn't this bad. This was Angry Jay.

"What the fuck do they know?" He clutched his glass tightly, cracks appearing. He was angry, depressed, lusting, wanting, needing. For her love, for her touch, for her voice, for anything! He stood shakily to his feet, giving the bartender a hateful glare when he moved to help. The Italian just shook his head before returning to wipe the counter. He wobbled, clutching her brandy as tight as he could. He stumbled towards the door, opening it with a shaking hand. The headache was horrible. The nausea eased away, making him able to walk albeit clumsily. Taking another swig, feeling the liquid run down his throat as he headed to the direction of his separate apartment.

This was the part of his evenings that he hated the most. The journey made him think. How fucked up he had become. The journey that made him regret it all. Regret meeting her. If he hadn't, he wouldn't have done that to her, the love of his life. 'Are you sure it was you?' A different voice quietly whispered to him. He deflated even more. He had done it. He was the one who hurt her. He wailed, crashing onto the building beside him, sliding down to the pavement. Her blood was on his hands, he had seen it. There was no more Karaoke Jay to blame it on. The fuck was the point? No one would believe him.

He downed the bottle, feeling his stomach repulse. Each gulp made him feel the cold embrace. The embrace of something. Emptied, the bottle was hurled across the street, hitting the wall opposite with a crash. The fuckers in court were still deciding what to do with him. He cried, tears welling up as his depression kicked in. He felt himself vomit on himself, blood trickling down from his nose. He didn't care anymore. After what he had done to her, he deserved this hollow death. There was no more emotion except for anger and sadness. Jejomar had given up on life, he feared for the day she would wake up from her coma. Look at him with scared eyes, crawling away from him. He vomited once more, he was sure there was some blood mixed in there. As his eyes closed, his vomiting getting even worse, he remembered his promise to her. On their wedding day. "I will love you with all my heart, forever and ever, until death do us apart." Grinning bloodily as he felt himself go to sleep, vomiting even more blood on himself and the pavement. The cold embrace swallowed him whole and that was his end. Salinas had died alone, vomiting blood, alcohol in his systems, grinning like a madman.

This was another of my stories, alternate timelines. Comments would be appreciated.
SgtEasy Member

S'algood bro

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