Characters: Leon Shaw
Setting: Leon's dorm room, about 5:40pm
Rating: SFW, language mostly. Unless cursing is bad at your work, in which case NSFW.
Content: Leon's anger runs out, and instead of sending everyone a hate filled rant...He writes a confession to Adelaide, asking for her forgiveness, despite knowing she won't read it. Only that email doesn't just go to Adelaide, it goes to everyone.

He hadn’t bothered going to class since Monday, preferring to let the world spin out of control around him in at a dizzying pace. Last night had even marked a milestone, like a final ‘hurrah’ in mist of chaos. Janis would never speak to him again, Abernathy was back to thinking he was a fucked up asshole, and Erica blamed him for Adelaide’s death. It was for the best, for all three of them. Janis and Abernathy didn’t deserve a friend like him, pulling them down and making them feel a need to defend him in anyway way. Erica just needed someone to blame that wasn’t herself…and he already blamed himself. What difference would it make for one more person to; for the whole school to? They weren’t wrong, it was his fault. He could draw a map from the moment he and Adelaide met to last week, and in each step he could list how he pushed her toward it. If he had been more of a man, less of a coward, none of this would have happened.

Maybe he should have been in prison.

His head swam as he turned from his computer, leaving an unfinished email open as he stood and crossed the room. He was calm, realized, despite the copious amount of alcohol in his system. Was it normal to be so calm? Or was it something else? Maybe, just maybe he was a sociopath, unable to feel the sadness that should have been dominating his every emotion right then and there. It would make sense, factored in with all the other crap that he pulled from day to day. And if that was the case, he’d be doing everyone a favor if he just left the school, left them. His parents might be upset, but he was a twin- the second one at that. Gael was infinitely more likable, smarter, and skilled than him. He was just the backup, and nothing of value would have been lost- particularly added stress he’d caused them lately. His classmates would be relieved to have him leave; even Michi would (regardless of her protest). Avery would just find someone else, too. It was stupid, even in the rational center of his mind, to believe that someone like Avery was even capable of caring what happened to him, anyway.

And for that matter, what had he to offer the world? Even when he didn’t mean to, the people he cared about ended up being hurt by him. They could call it what they liked, deny the truth for eternity, but he could see how his very company was trying for them. Rowan, for all her efforts, looked uncomfortable every time they spoke. What right had he had to dump so much upon her?

In that rare moment of clarity, he felt toxic.

Looking about his room, he stared blankly at the chaos that had become his life. In September, there would have been enough space to fit six or seven people in the room, standing or sitting as they wished. Now there was more or less tracks of clear floor, cattle paths that were traveled enough that cluttered seemed to be unwilling to occupy it. Swallowing, he closed his eyes, reaching up to rub his hands over his face. When he opened them again, took a heavy breath and leaned down to start picking up his things. He started with the clothes, piling them in groups before disappearing down into the basement to do start laundry. Once back in his room, he stacked his books on the proper shelves, folded and put his clean clothing away, packed his travel bags, and moved his laptop to the desk. He pulled out a trash bag, dumping old cokes and empty bottles into it as he systematically cleaned his room. He vacuumed the floor, made his bed, and scrubbed down his bathroom, before taking out the trash and moving down to the laundry to put his clothing in the dryer.

When he walked back into his room, he felt as if he’d cleaned more than just the space he occupied. It was as if he’d set something, no matter how small, back into order. But the lack of clutter made the room feel emptier, somehow. Every step he took felt as if it was echoing in his ears, an infinite reminder of how utterly alone he was. But that was what he had wanted, wasn’t it?

Sitting at his desk, he turned to his unfinished email, before hitting select-all and delete. Closing his eyes, took a deep breath for a second time as he gathered his thoughts.

Adelaide,

For a long time the cursor blinked, whatever words he thought he could say fleeing from him in that moment. What did a person say to a dead person anyway? ‘Sorry’? Groaning, he dropped his head down, folding his arms over the desk before laying his forehead against them. He felt sick, despite not remembering the last time he ate.

Sitting back up he sighed, before focusing on the cursor again. He had to write this, he told himself. Write it, get it over with…and move on. That was how things were supposed to work, right?

I wish I knew what to say. How to say it, rather Why couldn’t you just call me, text me? I’m sorry. I’m late with this, but I guess I’m late with everything. What does this change, right? Captain-To-Late. Heh. Poor time for jokes, I guess.

There are a hundred things I could say, and it is funny how none of them come to mind. I can’t even blame alcohol or drugs, I feel rather sober right now; heh, first time this week. It has been a pretty shitty week, actually. I think the entire school is in a state of shock, and utter disbelief. And I don’t know why you did it, I don’t think I ever well. Probably wouldn’t even matter if I did, because as much as I think I somehow understand, I just can’t wrap my brain around it.

People care about you, you know? Erica, Michi, Hunter, Gregoire…. I mean, maybe you thought no one would care, but I don’t know why. There were always people there for you, waiting I guess. Maybe they didn’t understand, or just got busy, you know? Sort of shit, what you did. Michi thinks she failed you, because she was focused on being happy, but the thing is I don’t believe that. I don’t think any of them failed you. You know why? I mean, I guess you do. But, hear me out, okay?

I ruin things. It is like some sort of karmic disease. Everything I ever touch goes sour eventually, and people around me inherently become unhappy. I am a festering wound, gangrene is sure to set in, so really the only thing left is to cut me out. I- fuck I don’t even know what I am saying. guess what I was trying to do was just that. You deserved better than me, you have. I couldn’t understand, really, why you ever wanted to love me so bad anyway. I mean, did you really think you couldn’t do better than me?

Actually, that is a whole other subject. Right now, I just want to tell you want I was always too afraid to tell you before. I’m selfish, and I thought that if I could just do this one thing, if I could fall in love and whatever else, that I could fix me. Everything just kept getting worse, and worse though, and nothing ever fixed itself. I can’t even explain it, except- no, even that is a lie. Heh.

I’ve always been different, particularly from Gael. I can’t tell you how I knew it, but I could feel it the way someone can feel the difference between night and day even if they blind. It is just something you know with such certainty that there is no disputing it. But it wasn’t until I was fourteen, I guess, that I realized what that was. All I remember was that the holiday before ninth started, I found myself in England doing something I should never have done. Or maybe I should have, I don’t know. But I found myself wanting to kiss this friend of mine, Alfie.

Heh. I know what you’re thinking. You’re sat there going, ‘what the fuck, Leon, that’s like some boy’s name.’ Well, yeah, it is. And I liked it, but when I went home to my Uncle’s, I was sat at tea and listening to them talk. I don’t remember what started it, but I always suspected Bruce or George started it; that they’d seen me staring stupidly at Alfie, or I don’t know. I guess it didn’t matter what started it, but that it happened. They sat there, my uncle and his family, talking about nothing but how ‘fags are sick in the head’, ‘poofters needed to be cured’, and other shit. I can’t even remember it all.

That isn’t even the important thing, right now. I can imagine your face as you read this, caught somewhere between disbelief and rage. And if you are thinking it was just a phase, you shouldn’t. I mean, I just- I don’t even know how to say it. I sure as hell can’t say it to your face. I’m gay.

I just thought, selfishly thought, that when you came around junior year and we started to hang out, to date? I thought to myself- this is how you cure being gay. Because as long as I never kissed a boy, as long as I never did ‘gay’ things, I wouldn’t be one. Right? That is how it works, isn’t it? I thought so, I thought I could hate it enough to just make it not real, and make it go away. And I thought, I guess, that if I could just get you to shag me I’d be straight.

Only things don’t work like that. And no amount of me begging for your forgiveness can ever give you back everything I’ve taken. Everything just started to roll. I can’t take it back, especially now. Captain-too-late, you know? Pretty sure I was sorted into the wrong house.

I killed you, Addy. I killed you because I’m a selfish coward, who doesn’t even have the decency to cry. Instead I was angry, but even that is gone. I don’t have the energy to be angry, anymore. Everyone else thinks it is their fault somehow, but I know. I could have stopped it all. If I wasn’t gay, I could have loved you the way you needed me too. I wish there was a rewind button. I wish you’d never met me, found some other bloke that was better for you.

I mean, I’m an utter piece of shit. You couldn’t find a better example if you tried. I fucked with your head, slept with you, and then ran away. Worst yet? I cheated too; with a guy. I don’t even know why. It just happened, and then it continued to happen. Can you hate yourself more for being happy? I don’t know if I am happy or not, anymore.

Why can’t I feel what everyone else feels? I shouldn’t be able to get out of bed, in misery. I don’t know why I’m not. Everyone’s gone anyway, I should be upset about that too, shouldn’t I? I feel guilty, I think. No, I know. Everyone I’ve ever been friends with, I’ve fucked over. I even pushed Janis out. I should feel sad, or something.

Shit, I’m all about me again. Fuck. Shit. Fuck Fuck. FUCK.

I’m sorry. I’m sorry. It doesn’t change anything, but I’m sorry. I deserve everything I’ve gotten in life.
Farewell,
Leon

Leon leaned back, rubbing his face as he exhaled slowly. The letter was fucking ridiculous, convoluted, and trite. Absently he stared at the wall, debating if he should even send it or not. After all, wasn’t stupid to even write to her?

“Shit,” he muttered, leaning forward and hitting send before he could talk himself out of it. But within that one second it took to hit send, his eyes tracked up to see her email address one last time…and to the entire school’s emails grouped in the ‘cc’ section. “No…no, no, no fuck, no! Stop stop, no don’t send, don’t send, please don’t send. Fuck, fuck!” The box reading ‘email sent’ popped up despite everything, leaving him to stare at the screen.

Had he really just done that? Sober no less?

What did he do now? What… “Fuck…fuck!” He shouted, leaning back in his chair before digging his hands into his hair, shaking. Everyone was going to see that. “Shit…” Maybe they’d all just delete it. After all, who read shit he emailed or posted willingly anymore? That’s it, right? They’d ignore it and he could just…pretend he’d never mass emailed his confession to everyone.

Moving back to the laptop, he jotted a quick email to Michi, Gael and even Avery before he stood, and moved away from the device again. His legs felt shaky, heart pounding so hard in his chest that he thought it was sure to break right out. Why was this happening…

Grabbing his keys, Leon left his cellphone sitting on his desk as he threw open the door and disappeared into the hall. He didn’t know where he was going, really. He just knew he had to get out of there.

Tags: !complete, leon shaw