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It had been a couple of days
No, that wasn’t right. Surely not, right?
It had been a week
Or.. had it?
It had been… some time. Everything blurred together in his mind and he felt as if time didn’t exist. It couldn’t, existence couldn’t go on as normal. Not after what he lost.
It was just like any other day when he first entered his life. He had had a successful day hacking, although he found it was starting to lose that edge. Maybe that was just him growing up, he had started in his teens, afterall. Then, he heard the doorbell ring, and a questions rang through his head. Who was here at such a time? Had the admins finally found where he lived and decided to get him when his guard would be down? If it wasn’t admins, was it someone trying desperately to sell him something? Hah, that might be funny to witness.
Either way, he decided to open the door. He’d never know if he didn’t check, after all. Nothing could’ve prepared him for what it actually was, however.
A cardboard box lay at his feet, with a bright red baby swaddled up in blankets inside. Multiple things shocked him at that moment. First of all, the baby’s skin tone caught him off guard. Then, the fact that a baby had been left on his doorstep baffled him. Why him? Then, a quick look around showed him that no note was left in sight. Someone had just left a red baby on his doorstep with no notice or explanation.
He had struggled with what to do at that moment, but never did he make a better decision than then. He picked up that little baby, and decided that if he was here, then he was his. He would take him in. Maybe it was those beady little eyes staring into his eyes with such an innocent look, or those tiny fingers wrapping around his own.
Either way, he won him over.
It was very hard at first. He had never taken care of a child, let alone raised one. And he had never been given any advice on it, he’d never even had a girlfriend for long enough to consider going down that path with her. And he’d rolled his eyes anytime the mention of him having kids had been brought up. So, he had a long way to go. He had to learn all the different reasons why he might be crying, and figure out which one would make him quiet again. He had to always keep an eye on him, otherwise he’d have the chance to possibly get in danger, or hurt himself.
He remembered the raw fear he felt when the boy nearly shoved a fork into the electrical socket, only stopped when he got to him and moved him away in a matter of seconds. After that, he’d wanted to sit there with c00lkidd in his arms forever, never to get into any possible danger again because he couldn’t leave. The adrenaline wore off soon enough though, and he just had to give his son a talk about not doing that again. If only he had found out about electrical socket covers sooner, his anxiety following the incident could’ve been soothed much quicker.
The number one thing that changed when he took him in though was the fact that he’d to adjust his whole lifestyle. Taking care of this child put him on a different path, and he had to quickly learn how to adapt. He quit exploiting—after all it’s not like it was all too fulfilling anymore anyways, if he had to be honest with himself—and started having to work to support them both. It was hard, because leaving his past behind like that didn’t exactly bode well with others. They didn’t believe that he was turning a new leaf, and would refuse to give him a chance. Regardless, he’d managed to find some work, and things were ok then.
It was all tricky, but he had managed to make it work. He’d work multiple jobs at once to make enough money, he’d get a babysitter to watch c00lkidd while he was gone, he’d get fast food most times because cooking was difficult and time consuming, and he’d try to navigate through those who hated him. All to see that smile upon that little face. All his responsibilities were worth it in his eyes, so long as he got to keep him. His child.
And c00lkidd seemed to appreciate it all—well, as much as a kid could that is. He didn’t understand everything, and got upset when they couldn’t play together as much as he wanted to, but he could sense when things were difficult. And he would act accordingly. He loved him so much, he didn’t even know what to do with himself when his child tried to cheer him up besides trying his best not to cry.
Sure, his son got into a little trouble here and there, but what kid didn’t? He dearly loved him either way. Although, burning down Builder Brothers Pizza wasn’t average “trouble.” He was really glad he was able to pay for those costs upfront each time c00lkidd managed to get into his c00lgui. He couldn’t stay mad at him for long though, because that was his boy, his son, and a kid. He didn’t understand the consequences for what he was doing. Maybe he should’ve tried harder to keep him out of trouble though.
Because now, they were here.
Words didn’t even begin to describe the way he felt. His baby boy was gone. He’d searched everywhere in search of him, even going out of his way to ask for help on finding him despite his reputation. He’d even thought of going as far as to file him missing, only to remember that the admins would find him and persecute him easily if he did that, and the fact that files for his son didn’t exist, due to his evading any legal matters. None of his efforts mattered though, he hadn’t been able to spot a hint of that red face since the day before he disappeared.
He hadn’t been able to accept it at first. He remembered breaking down in that park—his son’s favorite park—insisting that he had to keep looking, that he’d find him somewhere, while being dragged out as the place was closed for the night. He was hysterical, and trying to find something that contradicted the cold, hard facts. His grief must’ve been obvious, must’ve made them sympathize, because he hadn’t gotten into trouble. And that was despite the fact that he’d definitely caused some bruising while trying to escape the grasp.
And now what? He’d cried and cried so many tears, his eyes practically turning into a broken faucet he couldn’t turn off. He’d abandoned his jobs with no explanation as to why, and was promptly fired from them. And he hadn’t left the house in.. how long had it been? He hadn’t bothered trying to check his phone for times, for dates, because he knew that’d just make it worse. c00lkidd was his lock screen. It’d only rub salt into the wound, a wound that felt like it’d never stop gushing blood no matter how much time had passed, no matter how much he wished for the pain to cease.
His eyes still stung like he was crying, and his breath came out stilted, but no tears rolled down his cheek. How funny was that? He’d cried so much he ran out of tears to cry. How did that even happen? Then again, when was the last time he drank water? Or eaten for that matter? He wasn’t sure. Was he just letting himself rot at this point?
It’s not like it would change anything, either way. He had accepted at this point that he was never going to see his son again, that that bundle of joy was gone forever, and very possibly dead.
The weight was so unbelievably heavy. All his guilt and sorrow clung onto him, and muddled his brain. He didn’t feel like he even knew how to continue on, how to live with himself. And even if he did know, he felt like he couldn’t even bring himself to act on it regardless.How could he? His boy was the light of his life, the one who kept him going when all looked bleak. He could remember all the countless times when the stress would become too much, when it felt like everything was caving in on him. And c00lkidd would.. just hug him—maybe ask to watch a movie—and everything would just feel better, even if only for a bit.
He just wanted to hold him in his arms again, hug him tight and squeeze him and tell him everything would be ok. Tell him that his papa was here, that nothing could hurt him. He wanted to protect him, to keep him safe and make him feel safe.. and loved… and like he belonged.. and..
He couldn’t take it anymore.
He finally dragged himself up off the couch, his legs feeling like lead. How long has it been since he used them? He wasn’t quite sure. His movements were sluggish, and his brain was in a fog. Despite that, he had a clear goal in mind. He walked and walked until—after what seemed like forever—he found it. His hands almost felt foreign to him as he picked it up.
The metal shone dully in the bland lighting of his home, but it might as well have glittered and gleamed in his vision at that very moment. He ran his hand across the surface, cold against his fingertips, and his breath hitched. He’d never even used the thing, always just having it in case. It hadn’t ever felt right in his hands. In that moment though, no doubt was in his mind.
He couldn’t take it anymore.
c̶0̶0̸l̷k̵i̶d̷d̷ ̷w̶a̵s̸ ̴g̸o̵n̸e̷
He checked, to make sure it had ammo.
Ĥ̷̥̜e̷̜͒’̶͕̫́d̶͈̯́͝ ̶̘̋̃ǹ̶̪͓̆ȩ̵̑v̵̥̝́̾e̷̗͂r̸̘̒ ̵̪̔s̶̡̿́e̴͓̕ȩ̵̰̚ ̶̗̆͘h̵̭͑̃i̶̟͒̚m̴̡̰̀ ̶̼͛̽a̵̩̮̓ġ̷̝̈́å̸̞i̵̙͌n̷͖̯̿̒
He raised his hand. It shook with the weight of what he was about to do.
Ḫ̵̼̈́ę̶̜̝͙̳̆̋̇̕̚ ̵͚͍̳̹̬̈́͌̓͝w̵͚͑a̴̡͈͓̞͑͒̆̿̕͝s̵̬͉̝̳̞̈ ̷̛͙̻͐̅̅̀͜p̸̞͐r̶̨̖̜̝̞̐̔͌͛ŏ̸͖̪͉͕̫̪̊̔̋̚͝b̸̗̻̦̫̦̏̀ã̸͉̺̥̟͕̈́̍̎b̶̡̿l̵̢̓̇̊͝y̸̹̋̿͌̆͗ ̵͓͉̖͕̼̹̿̃̔̇̈́̕d̷̻͉͉̔̑̎e̵̱͙̖̍̃̔̀́ã̴̲̜̭͋̂̾͒͠d̵̩̞̹͓͐̅͗̓̈́
He put the barrel to his head.
And it was all his fault
.
.
.
.
.
He pulled the trigger.
He didn’t even hear the gunshot. He didn’t even feel the pain.
All was gone in the matter of a moment.
When he felt awareness return to him, he thought he had failed. How pathetic was that? To not even be good enough at causing his own death? To fail at yet another thing?
Then he took in his surroundings.
This was not his place. These were not the walls that he’d had to scrub clean of crayon scribbles and drawings. The floor beneath him wasn’t the one he’d look at and question how often he should clean it, only to make no changes. The ceiling above him was not the one he’d stared at, wondering if there was anything he could be doing better.
He had never been here before, and a creeping feeling crawled into his body. This was only intensified when he brought his hand to his head and it was just fine. No bandages, no injuries, not even a scar. Nothing.
Where was he? And how did he get here? And why did it seem like his decision had changed nothing yet everything at the same time?
He curled up into a ball, holding his knees close to his chest, as he grasped with the situation. He had no clue where he was, how he got here, or how he was still alive. And what exactly had happened was a complete mystery to him. Was his suicide a dream? But then, why was he here now? Was this some kind of afterlife?
Had his decision done nothing but guarantee that he’d never see his son again? Did he just end it all only to continue existing with the pain and suffering despite everything? Was this just some kind of karma? Was he just never meant to feel peace due to his actions?
In a twisted way though, wasn’t that what he deserved?
He buried his head into his knees, sobs wracking his body as tears finally flowed once more. He didn’t even care if anyone saw him. He didn’t care if an admin spotted him and finally delivered justice.
Because, what did it matter? His everything was gone the moment he’d found himself alone again. And nothing could change that.