Work Text:
The door to apartment number 406 was left open and unlocked, Ivan having left hours before. Heat filled the entire apartment, the oven simmering quietly in the kitchen. The house was in disarray, TV left on and cola scattered everywhere.
Once you descended into the apartment more, you could see a dark hallway that led into a room. Oddly enough, it was more organized than the rest of the apartment, the only real signs of decay being the rotting plant in the corner.
The computer screen flicked to life, having been long abandoned by it’s owner. Empty cola bottles scattered everywhere similar to the front room, and the stench of filth filled the air. One document stayed open, the white screen one of the only light sources in the room.
The following was written on it, supposedly a final goodbye to someone who mattered.
~
Dear Andrew,
I know you’ll never read this, I know you’ve moved on without me and you’ll follow my advice to never look back. But I still wanted to leave you with something, anything, that could count as closure.
I’m sorry.
I’m sorry for all I did to you. I’m sorry I didn’t know how to love, and instead stuck to you like a parasite that could not be removed. “A malignant tumor”, as I said to you. I never meant it; I need you to understand that I never meant the words I spoke that night. It was simply in the heat of the moment. I only published the game to get your attention; for one final say in this argument.
I am not one to apologize, nor admit that what I have done is wrong, but I need you to listen. I need someone to remember me. I know you may never forgive me, and I will always be portrayed as the one who sucked the life out of you and used you to fuel my own fire more, but know that that is how I loved. I believe that my love was different. It was ugly, mean, and dark; yet it was still love. It was truly a shame you could not see the love that overwhelmed me, the love that was simply too much to bear.
You, Andrew the developer, have changed me. You changed and warped my perspective of life, then left me to adapt on my own.
Were you ever truly worthy of my love..?
My marks of what you say to be abuse will forever etched into your skin, like a statue that I carved from hand. A beautiful statue that in the end will deteriorate and erode with time. Soon enough, you may forget our moments. But my legacy will remain.
The red glow of the TV does nothing but haunt me. It haunts my every waking moment. Some nights I lay awake, thinking about what I could’ve done to prevent it. It hurt knowing you didn’t even say goodbye; that it meant nothing to you. You’ve hurt me so much Andrew, but once I did something to you instead, it was over wasn’t it? I stayed with you until the bitter end. You left me stranded in the sea.
Occasionally I wish that I would’ve driven that axe into your head, I’ve never had thoughts like this before. I know its weird to say you’ve changed me; yet things have been really hard for me lately. I’ve been seeing my Father more and more often, and I have reason to believe that the fault lies within you, Andrew. I open up to you about my Father’s death, and all I get in reply is an apology; no advice, no help, just a hollow understanding. You don’t understand how it feels to see a charred corpse. A charred, rotten corpse in an empty church.
I can never be freed from the thought of your face, Andrew. It plagues my existence, my life. Sometimes I imagine that you’re in my living room, sleeping on the ground again like you’re supposed to be.
I’m going to the rooftop, you won’t see me once again. When you call my name, there will never be an answer.
You drove me to this point.
My suicide is your fault, Andrew.
But alas, the love in my heart is something I cannot hide. I love you Andrew.
I always loved you.
Forever yours, Ivan.
~
Soft beeping fills the apartment now, the door leading up to the roof left open, and the oven staying scalding hot. The computer screen is left on, the cursor blinking as if waiting for someone to add onto the note. Someone who would read it and care for the one who wrote it. Yet that never happened.
The beeping rose in intensity, a fire beginning in the apartment. Flames licked the walls and scorched the table that Ivan and Andrew would eat together on. The fire began to spread, spreading to the TV that was long broken, engulfing the cola bottles beneath it and the couch that Ivan had slept on with Andrew one night after one too many colas.
Eventually, it spread to the bedroom.
The carpet, the bed, everything was lit alight in a moment's notice, the axe that was mounted on the wall succumbing to the flames. The last of his father’s legacy. The last impact he made on the world; gone in an instant. Ivan knew this.
Then it spread to the computer. The lines upon lines of writing, Ivan’s note, beginning to frizzle out. Sparks flew and only fueled the fire more, and the screen began to glitch out and begin to shut down. Soon enough, the entire room was set ablaze, the note that was left for Andrew being lost in the middle of it.
~
Ivan looked at the ground below him, standing on the edge of the building.
Andrew would be better off without him. This whole world would be better off without him.
The mark he left on this world will forever stain the pavement below him.
He took a step off.
.
.
.
CRACK.