A tragedy at its finest is often the end of a life lived poorly.

At least that is what he thought as he sat looking out the window of the small shack that he had now called home for a little more than six years. Thinking back now he could remember the times he had spent with his team back at beacon all those years ago. He remembered how they had smiled and laughed at how silly he was in there eyes. And as he sat there smiling a tear fell from his eyes.

And then another tear followed the first as he sat there remembering his first few weeks at beacon he had come to know those he had considered closer than his own family in many regards. He even took the time to recall his first crush, and how he had watched her walk away in the arms of another man, but not in sadness did he recall this memory, no instead he recalled it with a sense of pride as he followed this particular progression of memories up to when he had instead fallen in love for the first and only time in his short 24 years of life.

Here he paused, his train of thought to go back once again and recall all of the times that his love had left him more than mildly subtle hints at her love for him as well. And here he could not keep himself from right out laughing at how ignorant he was of a woman's intentions.

Yet even as he laughed at the mistakes he had made in his youth, the tears fell, coming down slightly more forcefully now as he leaned over from his chair and grabbed a bottle of liquor on his only table and stared at the half empty bottle. Something else to be sad about he thought as he put the top of the bottle to his lips and tilted his head back allowing the contents to run down his throat and straight into his empty stomach. As the liquid warmed his throat in a way that had become as synonymous to peace with him as his memories had to pain, he could only sit in wonder at how the two seemed to go hand in hand all the same. His pain bringing about the only smiles he released in his weary life now as he drank them away night after night; just so that he could finally fall asleep.

As he pulled the bottle from his lips he found himself wondering what his former friends would think of him now if they could see him. How he had fallen even further after he had fallen from their graces. The tears which normally would stop after a few drinks didn't seem to want to stop this night. Not that he had any doubt as to why he couldn't stop. He had decided to write his goodbye letters to all of his former friends, and to apologize to them for the lies he had continuously told them time and time again. Each one had been more than personal for him, in a way that he could only equate to being a portion of his soul being implanted into them. He had had to start over on a few of the harder ones as he looked at the tear stains covering some of the paper wads around the table. It was no wonder to him why his tears fell so freely this night, because he had taken his time not only to focus on the good times he had lost with them, but also to apologize for the bad times he had cost them in the long run, the pain that he had brought upon their lives.

He even took the time to tell them about the day he had forgiven them all for the day they had left him behind. Yet even as he wrote those words on each page he couldn't help but remember each of the looks of hatred that his friends had worn as they found out the truth about him. How he had never belonged there with them in the first place.

Taking a long pull of his liquor, Jaune could only sit in silence as he finally pulled his head back away from the letters towards his window where the sun was just starting to set over the shanty town, watching as the children played in peace under the watchful eyes of their parents who would always usher their kids inside at the slightest hint of trouble.

Thinking back again Jaune remembered how when he had first showed up here after his family had disowned him for his disgrace. Yet again a smile played at the edges of his lips as his tears fell; he remembered how he had saved these people from a small group of Grimm that had just attacked their town. They had been so grateful that day that they had actually begged him to stay; they had even gone so far as to all pitch in and build his shack for him. Since then none of them had even gone near him other than to beg him to save the town from any other Grimm that happened upon the town.

Jaune could only think how he wasn't even upset with them for leaving him to his thoughts, and pains. Though, maybe that was because he couldn't seem to see how anyone could want to be around him anymore. Those that had stood by his side at the end either ended up trapped or worse in the end.

He had made friends of his enemies as he had shown how he would defend even them from harm. Another moment of tears at this particular thought had Jaune taking another deep pull from his bottle.

This brought his mind back to Pyrrha… taking another long drink Jaune closed his eyes as he slowly thought about her and how she had been there to help him through so many hard times in his life. Never once had she abandoned him. Not until her parents found out and took her home. Jaune hadn't seen her since that day; when she had promised that she would be back soon. That she had just needed to explain things to her parents.

That was probably the part Jaune felt the most regret about. Because of him Pyrrha had been taken away from beacon as well. It wasn't long after that Jaune recalled that he had been hospitalized by other students who were angry about him still being at Beacon despite his lying to get in.

Thinking back on it if he had left before that perhaps his parents wouldn't have found out, and he could have gone home. He could still see the disgust in his father's eyes as he walked into the hospital room to tell him not to bother going back home because Arc's didn't lose fights to weaklings. Playing through this he was glad his only words to his father had been ones of farewell, rather than ones of apology.

Yet still the tears fell as he remembered how many times he had failed his father's expectations, and the constant looks of disappointment he had seen thrown in his direction from the only man he had tried to impress. How close had he been to actually making his father proud? He must have been a little proud of Jaune, because the family was written about how he had snuck into Beacon; no one had shown up to disown him then.

The memories wouldn't stop anymore even as he Jaune looked towards his now empty bottle. The tears wouldn't stop the pain of the memories of his failures wouldn't let go of him. He couldn't stop seeing the faces of people who had been hurt because of him.

Standing up Jaune stumbled over to a small cabinet in the room where he kept his liquor bottles and promptly started to drink another one hoping against hope that the pain would subside. However, the more he drank tonight the more it seemed he remembered. And, with each new memory a newer and more painful memory was dredged up as well taking his mind on a ride he couldn't stop.

Now he could see the betrayed looks upon his friends faces as they found out the truth, how Weiss hadn't bothered to look at him ever again, how Ruby had walked away believing that he had never really trusted her, how Blake had mentioned that his uselessness now made sense to her, and how Yang had picked up her fist to hit him, but then dropped it saying he wasn't even worth it. The worst was when he then remembered how Ren had simply grabbed the confused Nora, and turned to walk back to their dorm room neither of them bothering to look back at his pleas for understanding.

No, instead of his brother with him that day it had been his enemy. Only two people had stood up for Jaune His beloved Pyrrha who was taken away, and surprisingly enough Cardin. Both stayed by him during his meeting with Ozpin and had even talked Ozpin into letting him stay.

Jaune was now weeping as he remembered his enemy turned friend stopping most people from doing anything to him, until on a joint mission with another team Cardin's whole team had met with an unfortunate accident, that had left them hospitalized, and Jaune's only remaining ally had wound up dead.

It wasn't even a week later that Jaune had been put into the medical ward next to Cardin's team.

As the memories continued Jaune couldn't help it anymore. Grabbing his bottle in one hand Jaune tilted his head back as he finished off the second bottle of the night.

Walking over to his cabinet he grabbed a third bottle from it, and downed a good portion of it as well as he walked back over to his chair hoping against hope to fall asleep. He still couldn't control where his memories took him. The flashbacks becoming stronger and faster with each drink he took.

His first kiss.

His last kiss.

His first brother.

His last brother.

His first real family.

His last day as a family.

All of these memories swept over him like a tidal wave and he wept. He grabbed the whole pile of goodbye letters and hugged them to his chest as though they were the very family and friends that he had lost. It felt like hours before the pain finally stopped drowning him in tears, until finally Jaune's eyes closed as the empty bottle in his hand slipped from his grasp to land on the floor.

It was here that the villagers found Jaune the next day. He was still holding onto the letters as though it was his only attachment to this life that he had to live.

Only one man walked up to him. He grabbed the letters carefully from Jaune, and started to fold them up to put into envelopes. Turning to the crowd he said "I'll take these into town."

I don't imagine too many people will read this tragedy. However, for those of you that do I would greatly appreciate it if you would send me some feedback on how I did with it. Tragedy is a lot harder to write than I gave credit to people for.