The final memory I was shown wasn’t something I witnessed myself. I couldn’t have. It was the scene of when my body was found. I guess there was someone somewhere who was curious as to why I hadn’t left the house in weeks, and a few of my siblings showed up. Reginald, Alexander, Alma, and Elizabeth looked down in disgust at my body, covered in black vomit and with horribly unnatural purple veins stretching across my body. Alexander had the note I wrote crumpled up in his firm grip as if it meant nothing.
“Ugh, and I thought she was ugly before,” said Alma, repulsed. “Now the outside just matches the inside perfectly.”
“She actually fucking did it…” William said in disbelief. “That bitch got bit by her own snake. If you asked me though, she could’ve just bitten herself and got the same result.”
“I knew she was insane,” Reginald said, giving a glance to Fluffy. “But she killed her snake and used its venom to kill herself? I only pity the snake. It deserved better.”
His words were a hard blow to me. He was right. A best friend like Fluffy deserved a better owner than me. It was because of me that he was dead, that we were both dead. And I couldn’t even stay with him. Elizabeth knelt down to look at my body’s eyes. They were fading in color, but the green still shined through.
“Are you alright, Elizabeth?” Reginald asked, kneeling down with her. “I know you were closer to her in a way none of us could be.”
“Don’t know what you saw in her,” mumbled William.
“She must’ve been in so much pain…” Elizabeth said, biting her knuckles. Then, she jerked her head up and in my direction with a set of emotionless, dead eyes, making me jump out of my skin. “And you still deserved worse,” she said in a hollow, emotionless voice.
My chest tightened and more tears appeared. I fell to my knees, and the scene around me changed. I was in a graveyard in front of a loosely marked grave. It was a messy headstone, with the initials “Beatrice L.E. Hawthorne” on it. My gravestone. Nobody was there except for a priest who was reading some scripture over it. Really helps me now, doesn’t it?
“You can leave,” said a voice behind the man. Elizabeth, on her own, was approaching my grave. “Nobody else is coming.”
“May God be with her soul,” the priest wished before walking off. Elizabeth looked towards me with a fire in her eyes.
“You know you deserve it all,” she hissed. “I was never good enough for you, was I?! None of us were ever good enough for you!”
“No!” I cried. “I loved you! I wanted to be-”
“If you wanted to be loved, you would’ve acted like it! You would’ve tried to be better! You would’ve respected and loved others!”
“I-”
“I’m tired of excuses!” she said with a hard stomp. “All you’ve ever done is make excuses to me as to why you can’t do something instead of trying! Well, I’m tired of it! We’re all tired of it!”
“I never wanted to hurt anyone!” I shouted. “I was hurt! I was a bitch! You all deserved better than me! I didn’t deserve the love you gave me!”
There was an echoing silence before Elizabeth began to slowly walk towards me. Every step seemed to reverberate throughout my soul, until we were face-to-face. My eyes were red and my face covered in tears. I could feel myself breaking.
“No, you didn’t deserve love,” she hissed coldly. “And you never will be someone worth loving. Ever. So don’t kid yourself by thinking you might be.”
“P-please…” I bawled, falling to my knees again. “M-make it s-stop…”
If they wanted to make me feel guilty for my actions, they went above and beyond. I regretted every second of my life that was dedicated to making someone else feel worse. I wanted to go back and do it over. I wanted to stop myself from suicide to make things better. But here I was instead, sobbing on the ground while the worst parts of my life torture me.
As if my pleas were finally answered, all the images and memories faded away. I bawled my eyes out again until I felt a small nudge. Terrified it was another memory starting up, I sobbed harder and crawled backwards.
“Please no!” I howled. “No more! No more!”
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