Warning:

The song I based this one-shot off of a song that was actually considered the most suicide inducing song, claiming to have caused 18 deaths (I actually don't believe that and actually felt that it was more circumstance)

Nevertheless, those who take issue and have serious triggers to suicide, failed relationships, and depression are advised not to read this.

I will repeat, those who take issue and have serious triggers to suicide, failed relationships, and depression should seriously not read this.

You have been warned.

Narrator's POV

On a sad Sunday with a hundred white flowers

I was waiting for you, my dear, with a church prayer

That dream-chasing Sunday morning

Gilbert stood at the altar, family and friends filled the aisles of the quaint but beautiful church.  Gilbert licked his lips, foot tapping as he looked around.

"Bruder,"  Ludwig said, snapping Gilbert from his thoughts.  "It is beginning to rain."  Gilbert looked out the window, seeing the rain falling from the once clear sky.

"Ja, but Elizabeta vas taking an awezome carriage here, so she von't be unawezomely vet."  Gilbert said, but still, a seed of worry was growing in his stomach, as the minutes ticked by, and the guests became restless.

Just as the guests were getting ready to leave, someone spotted the carriage coming.

Braving the rain with an umbrella, Gilbert went out and opened the door, only to see something that broke his heart; the carriage was empty.

No long flowing dress, no dolled up Elizabeta, no loving smile, no ring, no note; nothing.

Gilbert hung his head, letting the umbrella go with the wind, letting the rain soak him as realization dawned on everyone, their murmurs of pity falling on deaf ears.

The chariot of my sadness returned without you.

Ever since then, Sundays are always sad

Tears are my drink, and sorrow is my bread.

Sad Sunday.

The wedding was five months ago, yet still, every Sunday Gilbert dons his suit and goes to church, flowers in one hand, ring in the other, and waits till evening, when the friendly pastor tells him it is time to go.

Gilbert then does what he does every Sunday evening; drinks away his sorrow at the nearest bar, where the night ends with him stumbling home, sobbing blindly into his pillow, the flowers trampled on the ground while the ring sits by the windowsill, waiting for someone to wear it.

And the only ones who know of Gilbert's true pain are the friendly old pastor and Ludwig, his brother.

But it was the following Monday that made things worse.

While walking down a memorable street, Gilbert stopped, mouth agape.  For there, across the street was Elizabeta, only this time, instead of having her arm linked with Gilbert's as they looked at the cute things in windows, she had her arm linked to another's.

A man that Gilbert knew all too well; Roderich, Gilbert's own kinsman.

But that wasn't the only thing different, no, instead of wearing her usual dress with her hair down, Elizabeta was dolled up in the most beautiful clothes, her hair styled, and a large diamond ring on her finger, nothing like the plain old silver ring that Gilbert had barely managed to afford.

Gilbert felt the world crash around him as he ran home, ignoring the stares, ignoring the yells, ignoring his own blinding tears.

"Vhy?  Vhy?  Vhy?"  Gilbert asked himself all night long, tears flowing forth as he clutched the ring tight in his hands, questioning everything and anything as to why she wasn't with him, till finally he could take no more.

Gilbert staggered over to his desk, taking out light mint green papers and a pen, penning four notes before sealing them all in envelopes and addressing them.

With the first rays of the morning sun, Gilbert went outside and placed the four notes in the mailbox, hoping each finds their way to the one they were meant for.  With that done, Gilbert staggered inside, his eyes red and puffy as he walked inside.

But the oddest part of it was, that Gilbert wore a smile as he locked the door and grabbed a rope from the closet.

He stood on a chair, the noose before him.  Gilbert carefully removed the plain silver ring from his pocket, lovingly gazing at it with tears freshly falling, before finally kicking the chair away, letting the ring fall with a small thud to the ground.

Last Sunday, my dear, please come along,

There will even be priest, coffin, catafalque, hearse-cloth.

Even then flowers will be awaiting you, flowers and coffin.

Under flowering trees

My journey shall be the last.

The church was filled with sobs that Sunday, adorned in whites, blacks, and grays as the sky itself seemed to weep.  Mourners gathered around, trying to comfort one another.

Ludwig, the one who had seemed most upset, sat beside the priest, each holding a light minty green letter addressed to them.  Ludwig hung his head, holding his face in the palm of his hands as the priest gave him a shoulder to cry on.

But all attention was drawn to the door as the sound of a carriage was heard.  Gasps soon followed as Elizabeta burst through the door, followed by Roderich, each holding a light minty green letter.

Silence filled the church as all stared at the disheveled pair.  Ludwig only now looking up and behind him, eyes locking with Elizabeta's.  Ludwig stood up as Elizabeta ran to Ludwig, only to be slapped to the ground by him.

"Elizabeta!"  Roderich cried, running to her side as she stared up at Ludwig with teary eyes.  The priest stood to the side, holding the good book close.

"..."

"Vhat?"  Elizabeta asked.

"Jou... How can jou have zhe audacity to come here after killing him?!"  Ludwig yelled at her, tears falling down his face.  Elizabeta looked bewildered.

"Jou left him at zhe altar!  Jou never contacted him after zhat!  Jou just used him to get close to a rich bastard!  Left him to suffer!  And because of jou he-he-"  Ludwig could go no more as he sank to his knees sobbing.  The priest and several mourners came forward, comforting the proud German.

Elizabeta staggered to her feet, Roderich just standing there, mouth-agape at the thought that he had been used so.

My eyes will be open, so that I can see you one more time

Do not be afraid of my eyes as I am blessing you even in my death.

Elizabeta walked over to the coffin and peered inside, gasping at the blank ruby eyes that stared back at her.  She staggered back, Roderich catching her as she fainted, the note falling from her hand.

All the mourners either ignored the unwelcome pair or glared, as they carried the coffin outside, burying it between two trees that would be blooming now, if not for the weeping sky.

Soon after, only the four letter holders were left, each staring at the grave before them.

Gilbert Beilschmidt,

Loving brother, dear friend,

& a man who died from a broken heart.

"I hope jou are happy Elizabeta, and I hope zhe same pain, if not worse, awaits jou."  Ludwig said, his voice hoarse from sobbing, his throat burning.  The priest led Ludwig away as Elizabeta looked down at the note in her hand.

Elizabeta let the note slip from her hand, carried away by the wind as the memory of those blank eyes remained on her mind as Roderich led her away.

~Fin~