Alt variants + writing below cut, if you're interested.
OC in this piece is Sean!
CW;; Suicide, Character death
Sean's hand went to the door, his grasp shaky and fumbling. He felt his heart beating in his throat, his head was pounding and he was dizzy. The sinking feeling in his stomach still hadn't left, even with weed pumping through him. He stumbled through the door into his house, his vision was hazy, nothing made sense anymore.
He kicked the door shut behind him, looking around, it was his home. Home?
Dirty. Empty soda cans and beer, cigarette ashes knocked out of the tray onto the floor, used clothing puddled in a corner. Gross.
He walked into the bathroom, leaning forward as he hunched over the sink, placing his phone on the side. He blinked, the usually silent motion feeling loud and heavy. When his eyes met the reflective glass, he saw a mess staring back at him. Seriously? Did he let himself go like this? Fuck.
His chin hair untended to, staring to grow in again, the bags under his eyes darker than he'd remembered them being, his previously shaved hair had grown out, it's only just barely past his neck, the black roots grew into the bleached strands in a ombre. He remembers Bradley helping him cut it off that day, fuck was he stupid. When Sean had drunkenly tried to bleach his hair, and he'd applied too much, absolutely fried it. He scoffed out a laugh, trying to remember how Brad had blown it off as a joke, made him feel better even tho he was pissed he had to cut his hair that he cherished so much off.
Sean ran a hand through his hair, wishing it could've been Brad's rough one's instead of his own. “You're sad.. he wouldn't of wanted this for you, he'd of wanted you to be better.” he spoke to himself, hoping something would go through. He felt tears welling in the corners of his eyes. He felt like he was fading in and out of consciousness, he felt more sick than he had before smoking.
“What am I doing..? I shouldn't be doing this, he would've hated this. He'd of hated my ass right now.. would'a scolded me for how shitty I look, how disgusting my house is. ‘You can't let yourself down like this, you could never get back up again.’ is what he would'a said, he'd always say some slobby shit like that.” his voice broke even trying to impersonate Brad. His face was wet with tears, visibly shaking with every word he spoke, “I fucking hate you Brad.. I can't believe you'd do something so stupid.. no, god! I can't fucking believe I let you.” he brought a hand up to wipe his eyes.
He'd still have that voice in his life if he had just been there for him.
The last time he saw Brad's face was in a coffin, laying down, the same way he'd died. Sean couldn't bring himself to cry in that moment, not even with the thing's being said about Brad by his loved one's, he didn't even bother to stand up. When he'd walked by the coffin, Brad looked at peace, like his mind was finally cleared of all of his issues, a way he hadn't been in a long time. Sean knows he didn't die peacefully, he was scared, he just wanted his friend, he wanted the person he'd trusted the most. He wanted help, he didn't want to die. Sean couldn't even do the smallest favour of being there for him.
There's ringing in his head, Sean's eyes open up again. He's back in the present. His bloodshot eyes were caught by his phone lighting up out of the corner of his eyes, a notification lighting up the dim bathroom. He couldn't look at it.
Ever since that day, that last message haunts him. Sean remembers waking up, lifting his phone up as the light blared into his retina's, the only thing that caught his eye, that message. The one he's looked at ever since Brad passed.
Eight missed calls, fifteen messages, the one that showed up, the very last one sent, “Sean, are you there?”
Sean's fingers tensed around the base of his pistol.
yousharknotpass
turnnoffyourmind
origamiaround
blakekathryn
kaledo-art
dailybridgerton
