Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Terror Unknown Series ❯ Omega ( Chapter 2 )
[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]
By: Ryoko 03, Enigma's Kitten 
When the war ends, what becomes of the soldiers...? Suicide warning
Anime/Manga: Gundam Wing Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Supernatural / Psychological / Occult / Mystery / Horror / Angst | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 10.20.2002 | Pages: 1 | Words: 541 | Visits: 206 | Status: Completed
When the war ends, what becomes of the soldiers...? Suicide warning
Anime/Manga: Gundam Wing Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Supernatural / Psychological / Occult / Mystery / Horror / Angst | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 10.20.2002 | Pages: 1 | Words: 541 | Visits: 206 | Status: Completed
Title: Omega
Series: Gundam Wing
Author: Ryoko 03
Started: June 2001
Status: Complete
Warnings: As this is my entry for the Terror Unknown Fanfic/Fanart Contest, it
ain't gonna be happy, folks. High angst and suicide warnings.
Feel free to guess who's speaking. I won't reveal it till the last line.
~*~*~
OMEGA
~*~*~
This is the end.
The war is over; my usefulness is at an end.
I've never felt remotely human. My entire life has consisted of fighting this
seemingly never-ending war, leaving me little time to be a person.
Do I really want to be a person, though? No fucking way.
I don't want to have to deal with unrequited love. I don't want to watch them
together and looking so happy while my heart breaks into pieces. I don't want
to cry myself to sleep at night because I'm not the one who brings him such
happiness, because I cannot get the faces of those I have killed out of my mind.
Being human sucks.
And now that the war is over, what am I to do? Try to become the person I do
NOT want to be? Tell that little blond bastard - who, by the way, is not as
sweet and innocent as he pretends, little fucker actually LIKED killing - that
I'm happy that he got the boy he's been pining over since the moment he set eyes
on him?
I think not.
I set the knife down, next to the bottle of sleeping pills on the vanity, and
turn off the water. The tub is full, steam filling the small room from the
sheer heat. I check to make sure the door is locked before I peel off my
clothes, folding them neatly and placing them on the floor.
Old habits die hard.
I fill the glass with cold water, then open the bottle to pour several pills
into my hand. I knock them back one at a time, sipping the water after each to
make swallowing easier. After the tenth or eleventh pill - I didn't bother to
count them - I pick up my knife once more and climb into the tub. A little
water splashes out, but who gives a fuck? I don't care now, and I seriously
doubt I'll care later.
The water is soothing, and I'm starting to feel a bit sleepy. Still, I
carefully cut into first my right arm, then my left, following the vein from
wrists to elbows. For a moment, I watch in fascination as my blood begins to
drip from the wounds and into the water, creating rather pretty designs, then
drop the knife over the side to the floor.
I close my eyes, the sleepy feeling increasing as my life flows into the warm
water. Despite the temperature, I begin to feel cold, and I shiver. All that I
am aware of is the water surrounding me and the wonderful sleepy feeling that
promises an escape.
From far away, I hear someone knocking on a door, and a very faint voice calling
my name. I ignore it, feeling sleepier and freer with each moment. As darkness
closes around me, the knocking grows fainter and the voice that sounds quietly
worried fades away to nothing:
"Trowa? Trowa, open the door."
~*~*~
OWARI
~*~*~
Series: Gundam Wing
Author: Ryoko 03
Started: June 2001
Status: Complete
Warnings: As this is my entry for the Terror Unknown Fanfic/Fanart Contest, it
ain't gonna be happy, folks. High angst and suicide warnings.
Feel free to guess who's speaking. I won't reveal it till the last line.
~*~*~
OMEGA
~*~*~
This is the end.
The war is over; my usefulness is at an end.
I've never felt remotely human. My entire life has consisted of fighting this
seemingly never-ending war, leaving me little time to be a person.
Do I really want to be a person, though? No fucking way.
I don't want to have to deal with unrequited love. I don't want to watch them
together and looking so happy while my heart breaks into pieces. I don't want
to cry myself to sleep at night because I'm not the one who brings him such
happiness, because I cannot get the faces of those I have killed out of my mind.
Being human sucks.
And now that the war is over, what am I to do? Try to become the person I do
NOT want to be? Tell that little blond bastard - who, by the way, is not as
sweet and innocent as he pretends, little fucker actually LIKED killing - that
I'm happy that he got the boy he's been pining over since the moment he set eyes
on him?
I think not.
I set the knife down, next to the bottle of sleeping pills on the vanity, and
turn off the water. The tub is full, steam filling the small room from the
sheer heat. I check to make sure the door is locked before I peel off my
clothes, folding them neatly and placing them on the floor.
Old habits die hard.
I fill the glass with cold water, then open the bottle to pour several pills
into my hand. I knock them back one at a time, sipping the water after each to
make swallowing easier. After the tenth or eleventh pill - I didn't bother to
count them - I pick up my knife once more and climb into the tub. A little
water splashes out, but who gives a fuck? I don't care now, and I seriously
doubt I'll care later.
The water is soothing, and I'm starting to feel a bit sleepy. Still, I
carefully cut into first my right arm, then my left, following the vein from
wrists to elbows. For a moment, I watch in fascination as my blood begins to
drip from the wounds and into the water, creating rather pretty designs, then
drop the knife over the side to the floor.
I close my eyes, the sleepy feeling increasing as my life flows into the warm
water. Despite the temperature, I begin to feel cold, and I shiver. All that I
am aware of is the water surrounding me and the wonderful sleepy feeling that
promises an escape.
From far away, I hear someone knocking on a door, and a very faint voice calling
my name. I ignore it, feeling sleepier and freer with each moment. As darkness
closes around me, the knocking grows fainter and the voice that sounds quietly
worried fades away to nothing:
"Trowa? Trowa, open the door."
~*~*~
OWARI
~*~*~