Author: Mrs. Matt Shadows PM
He's just another number in the morgue, another body in the ground. Another pale white face with cold lips and no breath left to tell his story.Rated: Fiction T - English - Drama/Angst - Words: 1,142 - Reviews: 1 - Published: 01-13-07 - Status: Complete - id: 2303854
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
He's just another number in the morgue, another body in the ground. Another pale white face with cold lips and no breath left to tell his story.
Warning(s): This story contains malexmale relationships and suicide. Do not flame me, for your idiocy will only be ignored.
"Do you promise you'll never leave me, no matter what happens?" So soft, barely a whisper, but I can feel his hot breath against my ear and I shiver slightly. I give a small nod of my head and I pull the small boy into my arms, pressing a small kiss to his full pink lips.
"I promise, baby," I whisper back, just as softly as he had.
"I won't leave you either, 'kay?" I feel his lips ghost over my cheek and I nod.
I shake my head, willing the painful memory away as I stare down at the cold marble stone, sticking for the snow covered ground. I shake my head slightly and bend down in front, running a gloved hand across it making the snowfall soundlessly away from the words. Zackary Taylor Henderson 1989-2007 was engraved on the front and on the back was his parents names, his sister, and mine. His mom had requested that, and I didn't protest.
It still hurt and I still felt horridly empty. I still cried every night before falling asleep and I still clutched to his Jack Skellington doll while watching TV, like he had when he was still here. And every night, just before sleep enveloped me, his voice would drift into my mind and I could hear so perfectly 'I won't leave you either, 'kay?'
I don't know what happened, or why he did it. Slowly, he started to change. Everything was different. He dyed his hair jet black and started to spike it. Slowly, the way he dressed changed and he got moody. I still loved him though, and always would. After a while, he convinced himself he was fat and wouldn't eat. He got disgustingly skinny, and it was killing me… I loved him, but I wanted Zacky back, the real Zacky.
I talked to his mom and dad about it, and I ended up sobbed in his moms shoulder telling how worried I was. She held me tight and told me that she would talk to him, but when she did things only got so much worse. The black was fading from his naturally sandy brown hair and he started to dress like a normal person again. I thought, and hoped that maybe he was getting better.
Soon his eyes lost that lively spark and turned completely dull and stoic. I talked to him one night. We lay down on the couch together and he snuggled into my arms and started to cry. I asked him what was wrong, but he only shook his head.
"I'm sorry, Kev… I'm so sorry I'm ruining your life…" He choked out, and I pulled him closer and placed a soft kiss on his ear, while whispering how much he meant to me. The next morning, when I woke up, he was gone.
Slowly I stood up and looked around, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. I yawned and walked into the bathroom. Flipping the light switch on, I let out a strangled cry as I saw Zack lying on the floor, in a puddle of blood. Both of his arms were covered in deep gashes, each one going further down. A small blade lay next to one of his motionless hands.
"Oh God…" I collapsed against the wall, and slid down, wrapping my arms around my legs and burying my face in my knees. "No, no, no, no…" I whispered over and over again, before breaking into a sob. I sat there all day, crying the whole time, whispering to myself that it was a bad dream and I would wake up anytime.
It was around seven when someone walked in and found us. I was rocking back and forth, still bawling. It was Janie, one of my good friends. She let out a scream and stumbled backwards, out of the bathroom. I finally, crawled over to Zack's pale body and gathered him in my arms, hugging his cold and lifeless form to me. I could hear Janie in the other room, crying and talking on the phone.
"Please… h-hurry!" A pause. "924 Ch-church stre-et…"
I heard her approaching, slowly, and I squeezed my eyes shut. I could hear the slight crumbling of paper and she started to read something out loud.
"Dear Kevin," She started, trying her best to keep her voice from cracking. I opened my eyes and looked up at her, silently willing for her to continue. When she finally did, she had to stop another sob. "I know I hurt you a lot, but I want you to know that I was hurting too. I still love you, and I always will. I know I promised I would never leave you, but look, I've gone and told another lie. I felt so worthless all of the sudden, Kevin. I was completely gone for a while, in another world, it almost seemed. Then I realized how much I was hurting you and the self-loathing went even further. I was debating on suicide, and started to experiment with a razor, and I ended up liking the release a lot. It was like… I don't know. It felt amazing, like all my problems rolled away with the droplets of blood. I'm sorry for this, but I had to go. It's better for us both, and I hope you understand. Tell everyone I am sorry and I love them, and don't forget that I love you with all that's left and I'll see you again,," She stopped before reading the last part. "Love Zacky…"
Soon people were in the house, prying Zack from my grasp and I curled up on the floor in his blood and sobbed until I passed out.
Now, here I am. Back at his grave just like every fucking day of my worthless life. Janie tries to get me out sometimes, away from everything. And sometimes I even go… but we never stay somewhere for to long in fear of one of us breaking down. She's just as tore up as I am.
Sometimes I just wish I could wake up from the godforsaken nightmare and hold Zack in my arms, a happy, normal Zack. I shake my head, as if to rid the thought, and push my sleeved up a little bit, scratching at the pale scars adorning the wrist. Maybe I will join him sooner than anyone thinks…