Ch. 29

                                    

                                          
Thanks for (over) 100 followers, guys! Short-ish chapter, but it's Christmas so I'm busy and hungry
                          
**WADE** 
                          
Life was boring without an above-average-heroic spider boy around. 
                          
I tried my best to get back to my old life, but every time I aimed my gun at a new target, his face popped up and it was like he was physically stopping me from pulling the trigger. 
                          
"Is this what heartbreak looks like?" 
                          
Oh, that's right! When Peter left, I met Carl. 
Carl is a dog. 
Who can talk. 
I'm 90% sure he's a hallucination. 
                          
"You've never stooped this low just because of someone you've loved, before," Carl pointed out, smelling his balls. 
"My suggestion is; stop trying to love people. You already know it never works out with anyone. You're a walking untreated mental disorder, that's a bit of a luggage." 
                          
I looked out of the window, at the rain that was pouring down outside. It was almost like the weather gods tried to reflect my depression in their own tears.
                          
<Damn Wade, that's deep> 
"Hey! You're still just a box! I've upgraded to a visual hallucination!" 
<Sick!> 

                          
My boxes were still going to have conversations when one of them was no longer just a box, too? Damn, even my insanity was testing my limits. 
                          
"Shut up," I muttered, crossing off another day on the calendar. It had barely been a week since he left, but I was still sulking about it. What was up with me?
                          
He'd kissed me goodbye with glossy eyes one week ago, and I hadn't seen him since then. 
                          
"Get it together, Wade," Carl said, jumping up on the couch. I sat down next to him, resting my arms on my knees with the gun still in my hands. 
                          
"Shut up," I repeated. 
"I can't shut up, I'm you," Carl pointed out. 
"Well, leave myself alone, then." 
"Nah." 
                          
As I was saying, I was failing at being a good mercenary these days, so I only got half paid since I didn't kill my targets, only took them down with non-fatal damages. However, even with the money I had earned, I couldn't drag myself out of the house to buy any food. Not even chimichangas!
                          
I know! It's horrible!
                          
I hated my depressive episodes - I don't think anyone loves being depressed, though - and it drove me even more insane. 
                          
I hated how persistent Carl was being, and how all my boxes were talking at the same time, each having a different opinion on Peter. 
                          
I hated Peter. Or, I hated how much I loved him. Like Carl said; there's no point in me trying to love people. I just lose them anyway. Vanessa, Carmelita, all of the people who had ever given me a chance...now Peter was gone, too. 
                          
I hated how narrow-minded he was. You can't save everyone. You can try, but sometimes to save hundreds you have to sacrifice one. Hadn't he seen any movies? Have you met anyone more clueless than him? 
                          
I hated that he left me. 
                          
"We should watch porn," Carl spoke up, and I glanced at him. 
"What? Porn always makes us feel better, right?" he tried, but I just looked back at my gun. 
                          
I pulled off my mask and threw it on the ground, kicking it under the couch because as soon as I looked at it, I just remembered all the times Peter had pulled it up just for a little peck. I remembered our first kiss - that cheesy shit in the rain. Very original. (A/N thank you, I try)
                          
{Pathetic} 

                          
Great. Now I had boxes yelling at each other in my head, Carl the dog licking his own testicles in my couch, memories I couldn't forget, and to top it all off; my dad's voice criticizing me for being sad. When did he even get here? He's supposed to be dead - in my head, too. 
                          
"I told you," I muttered, "to shut up!" 
                          
And without hesitation I pointed the gun to my head and pulled the trigger.
                          
****
                          
Oops.
                          
I was tagged by @CryingMinx to do some sort of tag, so next update will not be an actual update, just me doing...well, a tag. If that doesn't interest you, then you can just skip it and wait patiently for the next chapter xD 
                          
Thanks for reading, you are all awesome I love reading all of your comments :D