literature

The Last Letter (PewdieCry)

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Literature Text

"How's it going, Cry? It's been a while, hasn't it? I'm sorry I haven't been writing to you as much nowadays; I've been busy with life, you know, moving around with Marzia... I just might pop the question by the end of the month. What do you think?

By the way, how about you? Who's the lucky girl that stole your heart? Don't tell me you're still single, you've got lots of girls at your tail because of your voice! You gotta share some, bro, or I won't send you messages anymore.

Haha, just kidding. Reply ASAP, hope to hear from you soon, bro! *brofist*"


I sigh for the last time, before dropping the letter on my lap and leaning back on the couch, hands resting behind chocolate locks. It was raining again today. As the raindrops cascaded down the fogged glass window, the memories seem to flood my mind like a broken record, haunting me endlessly wherever I go.

It's been more than a year since Felix and I broke up. He made me promise to keep in touch as friends and well, how could I deny him? Part of me stil hadn't processed the fact that it was over.

That we were over. Done. Just like that.

Now I find myself forced to accept it. We were gone, broken and unfixable - at least I was. As he tells me he's going to propose to his girlfriend, I'm still trying to understand and to find out what went wrong, why we aren't together. It's a horrible, painful feeling. The whole world has moved on and left me behind, even Pewds himself, but as for me, I'm still here, the gears of time scraping on my skin while I stubbornly stay still, not wanting to move on. But I know soon I'll have to.

He doesn't know. He thinks I'm happy with some other girl, just like he is right now. He believes everything I tell him in my letters: that I'm alright, happy and content with my life without him.

Well, it was the opposite. Ever since he left, the voices came back. They tormented me, comforting me in their own twisted way by telling me that Felix would never come back, that he actually hates me and is scowling behind his letters and his words were fake... Whenever I try to fight their pessimism, the next day I would wake up with bruises and scratches I don't remember getting.

Maybe I was insane already. Do madmen know they're insane? Probably not. The thought had crossed my mind more than once. And so asking friends for help was definitely out of the question.

Not that my friends could help me in the first place.

God damn it. The voices just wouldn't stop. I remember, when Pewds entered my life, they had vanished - for good, I thought, but I guess this proves me wrong. It was like he was the light that shone through my painful darkness but now even he was gone and I'm left in this hellhole of seclusion, nothing but the whispers to keep me company.

You know what? I've had enough of this bullshit.

---------------------------------------------------------

I was giddy as a little kid on the holidays when I finished writing the letter. It made a warm emotion bubble up in my heart when he agreed to keep contact with me despite the circumstances - honestly, I thought he would decline. But at least the fact that he didn't mind assured me that he saw our breakup in the same way I did: a mutual agreement to see other people because we just weren't working out. No hard feelings, of course.

Or at least that's what I thought.

It's been two weeks since I sent him the letter, and I still haven't received anything back. I'm starting to get worried that something must have happened. I even tried to call him, but he wouldn't answer the phone.

"Helloo, Earth to Felix?" A familiar voice snapped me out of my daze. I blinked, seeing Marzia staring at me with large, curious eyes. "What's wrong?"

"No, it's just..." I paused, hesitating for a moment as I stared at my own feet. "Cry hasn't been contacting me at all. It's been two weeks, and it's never taken him this long before. I just..."

"Are you worried?" she asked, sitting beside me. I nodded, feeling guilt wash over me in an instant. Here I was, worried sick for a friend who also happens to be my ex-boyfriend, and beside me was my girlfriend and (hopefully) soon-to-be-fiance comforting me. I feel like a jerk. "Have you tried calling his other friends?"

"Scott seems to be pissed at me for some reason. He wouldn't answer and when he did, he would just shout at me before hanging up on me without saying what happened." I explained, smiling weakly at her when she placed her hand on mine. "I could try calling Russ, but-"

"Go ahead, then. Put your doubts to rest, Felix!" she cut me off, her optimism comforting me and I flashed her a smile of appreciation before reaching for the phone. "If you need anything, I'll be at the computer!" she said, kissing my cheek and heading to the other room.

I stared at the phone in my hand, not really knowing what I'll be expecting to hear on the other end. I held my breath as I shakily dialed the number. Only one way to find out, I guess. I thought to myself. I waited for what felt like forever as the repetitive ringing filled my ears. Only when someone spoke on the other end did I realize how much breath I was holding.

"Hello? Who is this?" Russ' voice filled the split-second moment of silence.

"Oh, um, it's Pewds. I was wondering if you knew where Cry went. I've been trying to contact him, but to no avail..."

"I thought you two broke up."

"Yeah, but we're still keeping in contact with each other since... around last year."

"Wait, so you didn't know?" There was a feeling of shock in his voice.

I started to feel nervous. "Didn't know what?"

There was a pause on the other end, before Russ finally spoke up. "He's been devastated since you two broke up. He stopped talking to us and locked himself up in his house. Scott and I couldn't even contact him at all, so we eventually gave up."

"But we've been exchanging letters for months. He said..." I found myself unable to form the words as my thoughts became a puzzled mess. Cry was lying to me. All this time...

He... He didn't want me to worry about him. Or worse, he couldn't tell me because he thought... he thought I had moved on and didn't care about him anymore.

"Shit... You said he hasn't been contacting you?" Russ uttered.

"Yeah... why?"

"Oh, fuck... He might have..." he trailed off. "Shit! This is all your fault!" he yelled.

"What? What is it?" I asked, desperate to know what he discovered. What happened to Cry? Was he okay?

I was greeted by a slam, followed by a rhytmic beeping. He had hung up on me. What was it that he realized? It sounded like Cry was in danger. He didn't think Cry would... kill himself, right?

No, of course not! He would never do that... right?

Before I knew it, I was standing in front of his house, Marzia following behind me. It still looks the same as before I left that I almost felt at home. He never changed. I'm just scared that he never got over me, either.

As we entered the house, a wave of nostalgia washed over me. Like a museum, everything was kept just like it was before. The dirty maroon rug with the 'Welcome' sign stitched over it, the coat rack that for some reason kept falling on me when I was beside it, the sofa where we used to fool around and tackle each other playfully, the table that withstood every hit when we would accidentally kick it away...

As I reminisced and walked almost in awe at how it was kept the same, I noticed a bunch of picture frames and photo albums scattered about on the table that weren't there back then. I crouched down to take a look at them, picking up a picture frame and wiping the thick dust that it had collected.

It was a picture of our trip to Disney World. I remember he asked this cute little girl to take our picture with the Ferris wheel and fireworks in the background. The kid even giggled adorably, saying we were a cute couple and Cry blushed.

I smiled to myself, placing the photo back on the table. As I dusted off all the other photo albums and picture frames, only then did I notice that these were all our memories back when we were together.

"I was so stupid..." I ranted, burying my face in my hands. "All this time, he's been hiding all his suffering from me. All this time..."

Marzia touched my shoulder lightly, making me flinch. "Don't blame yourself. It wasn't your fault." she comforts me, smiling apologetically. "Come on, let's go find him."

I nod at her, continuing the search for Cry. Marzia and I decided that I should check the first floor while she'll take the second floor. As I passed by the kitchen, I noticed the purple apron I used to make him wear and smile to myself as another flashback found its way to my mind.

"Cry, do a pose for me!" I tease, waving the camera at the blushing brunette as I settled down on the wooden chair.

"Sh-Shut up, Pewds! Take that camera away from my face!" he demanded, hiding his beet red face with his hands. "Next time I win, you'll be wearing the pink one!"

"I'll make sure it doesn't happen, then." I shot back, taking a bite from the strawberry in his hand and smirking as he flushed even more. "Come here, you." I patted my lap, gesturing for him to sit.

He sat down, a hint of a smile on his face. "You're lucky I lost." he mumbled, leaning back towards me. I wrapped my arms around him, resting my head on his shoulder and enjoying his warmth.

In my distraction, I hadn't noticed him grab the whisk dripping with cake mix in a bowl on the table until I felt the warm sweet liquid sticking to my cheek. "Food fight!" he declared, before slipping off my lap and waving the makeshift "weapon" around and splattering the mix everywhere, the bowl.

I was momentarily confused but when the words registered, I immediately grabbed a nearby icing bag and pointed my "gun" at him. "Haha, you're on, bro!" I exclaimed.

Hours after, I found myself laughing madly and clutching my stomach, curled up on the floor as I wiped stray tears away. Cry dropped the bowl of chocolate and was giggling at the aftermath. We had somehow switched places: Cry was now the one sitting on the chair while I was on the floor.

Batter, chocolate syrup, cinnamon and flour scattered and stained the cupboards and cabinets, cups and containers toppled on the ground, the table, and the counter. Not to mention their clothes: Cry was lucky enough that he was wearing the purple apron that protected his clothes from staining too much.

"What a mess." Cry sighed, recovering and standing up. He brought out his hand, helping me to stand up. I took the offer, but instead of standing up, I pulled him down with me, ruffling his brown locks lovingly with an arm over his shoulder as we laughed wholeheartedly.


We were happy back then. I just wish-

No. As much as the feelings come back, I have to push them away. As much as I want to help... I can't. Shouldn't. I've come so far, and I've already grown to love Marzia; I'm not just giving her up.

"Felix, look!" The same girl I was thinking about called out. I stomped up the stairs and entered what used to be our room. She handed me a note which seemed to be scribbled by Cry.

Dearest love,
I hope this message finds you well. As these endless thought drip from my soul, every single word secretly paints the fairytale of when we melted into one. Are these last words that I wrote for you enough to tell you that in my death, the light that shone through my painful darkness was a blinding vision of your eternal smile?

Cold scalpel whispers tear at my very core as I cling to my memories of you. I'm so scared... I need you with me.Make it stop, make the pounding in my head stop. He's not coming back, he's not coming back, he's not coming back...

I don't even know what happened... Who would have thought my life would end up like this? I never even got the chance to see your face one last time, or ruffle your hair like I used to, but now it's too late. If my words even reach you, I'll assume you don't care.

I love you, Pewds. Goodbye f


The letter stops there. It sounded like he was dying. What if... he's already dead? What if he wrote this with his dying breath, and I wasn't even able to give him his dying wish? The moment I thought it, I heard my girlfriend scream from the bathroom.

As I opened the door and took in the sight before me, I felt my knees go weak. Marzia ran to my embrace, crying at the sight before her. There he was, lying on the floor, lifeless, dried blood sticking to his arms.

I was too late.
So... This is kind of a continuation of my earlier fanfic (Bulletproof Love) which is also a based on a song, like this one.

I suggest listening to the song itself first: 'The Last Three Letters' by Alesana: www.youtube.com/watch?v=A7xQub… (Since the 'letter' part at the end is heavily based on the song itself)

Also, I noticed my fics are becoming longer. I started with 170-something, now this one is 2300-something. :iconachievementplz:

Okay, I'll stop rambling about stuff not related to the story now.

EDIT:
You like this story? :iconcakeandcandles: made another story inspired from this one: cakeandcandles.deviantart.com/… Check it out, will ya? :3
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ineedalife12's avatar
I'm crying right now. I care about these people so much...