WARNING: S-ICIDE MENTION (twice, one succesful and one unsuccesful, terry fawles and edgeworth respectfully) uhhh ALSO B-LLET WOUND MENTION. (franzy) dang i didn’t realize this was so heavy this is gonna get reported isn’t it if ur alright with everything, scroll down Miles Edgeworth had never liked the dark. Darkness was the elevator, all those years ago. Him. His father. The bailiff. All thin breaths and flickering lights and Yogi’s shrieking, a never ending siren in Miles’ ears. He lost everything he had ever respected that day. And for the longest time, he believed he was the cause. Darkness was his room, a single lamp providing just enough light for him to read thick law books. He would sit there, terrified of failure, of seeing von Karma’s eyes narrow. He would read over and over again, wringing his hands through his hair, sleepless exhaustion taking over him. Darkness was the shadows in Terry Fawles’ eyelids as he commited s-icide, the poison taking his life and his hope. All for Dahlia and that cold, vicious smile. And Miles could just stand there and watch as Terry collapsed, surrounded by his own blood. Darkness was Manfred von Karma’s eyes, hysterical as he cursed him and his ancestry and everything he ever was and ever will be. The way he took his shoulder and shrieked, the same scream he heard all those years ago. The way his eyes held nothing but bitter acceptance and fury at him, just him. Darkness was the cold, dusty warehouse where he tried to end himself. Rope around his neck before he finally decided against it, the fear of dying winning out. He sat there, hands shaking as he descended from the hook on the roof, trying to look calm, to no avail. Darkness was Franziska’s b-llet wound, eerily bleeding as doctors and nurses hurried around her. The scathing glow to her eyes fading as the wound darkened, darkened, darkened. Darkness was his room when Larry called him, frantically saying: /He’s dead, he’s dead/, And Miles felt the entire ground disappear under his feet. Darkness was when he was held at g-npoint in his own office, being forced to remain cold and concise, scared for his life. Darkness was what Phoenix felt like disbarred, empty, a muted blue everywhere he went. Kicked down by the system. Miles hoped he would never see that absence of hope in him again. Late at night, Miles always finds himself remembering all of this, and it makes a shudder run down his spine. He grips his bedsheets, his hands shaking, afraid of not waking up, afraid of such a fate happening to one of his loved friends. Then, he wakes up in the morning, and he forgets it all. i hope u enjoyed this trash
ik a drabble is supposed to be only 100 words but shhh
