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summary: ficlet in which Ian tells the world he's still there.
warnings: yeah i kill him
rated: t

I exist.

He wanted to scream it at the world.

I exist.

Shout it from the rooftops, cry out in the streets. Remind the good people of Earth of that thing they so often forgot. That most basic fact that he wanted known.

I exist.

But why did they always forget? Was it because he wasn't as handsome, as kind, as outgoing? It had to be. He was average, he was nothing. Of course he wouldn't get any real attention, of course he never could. He could never be loved like the rest were loved.

And it was so often now. Best friends planning weddings, mothers busy being proud of the better siblings, fans who remind you that you're not the cute one, the funny one, the perfect one, that could never be you. He was just in the way.

I exist.

Lonely nights of writing and take-out, another comment on his weight gain, more take-out, a cycle. Lonely arguments with his girlfriend, another question of when they're getting married, another argument, a cycle. It drove him mad in the most subtle of ways, tore into his flesh and left invisible marks, killed him again and again. He was an endless tragedy and a bad story. He was unimportant.

I exist.

Getting angry easily, getting down, depressed, everyone just got annoyed with him. Being morose, exhausted, unable to move, everyone just made him feel in the way.

Then he tried to get closer, tried to get better, in his last ditch effort to save himself. The more he pushed, the more clingy he felt, and the more he felt that they didn't want him.

I exist.

Busy with the wedding, busy with the bride, busy with life, busy with dealing with you. No one had time for him, and no one wanted to give it. Anthony would scream at him, Mel would berate him, Kalel would ignore him. He couldn't work but he felt like shit for not doing so, he couldn't love but felt like some empty, shallow ass for not feeling fully. He was a burden on the world now.

I exist.

Then there was crying. Sometimes quietly, publicly, hiding a grimace and hoping no one saw, and sometimes alone, ugly sobs echoing throughout the house. Then there were pills, anything he could get his hands on. Then there was blood. So much blood. Then there was screaming, then there was begging. Live, Jesus Christ, please live.

Then there was mourning. Anthony threw up when he found him. Curled up with Kalel that night, that was the longest night of his life. Then there was a funeral. And a burial. And too many looks full of pity and somber conversations and quiet days followed.

I existed.

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[but really I loved this, I'm just a little emotional after reading three of your stories that include either a dead or dead inside Ian]

lol thanks so much, sorry for my enjoyment from killing off Ian :))

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