☆ BRUCE YAMADA ☆

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sorry, and play A quick one before the eternal worms devour Connecticut by Have a nice life.

The next day, the last day.
(12 AM.)
(BRUCE'S POV)
AT LEAST I HAD A SHOT AT LIFE, EVEN IF I NEVER GOT TO COMPLETE IT. I followed Billy's advice. I dug through the wall with the toilet lid and my bare hands. They ended up red, sore. At least now I can't feel them.

I tried breaking through the door, but I wasn't strong enough. I was starved, and weak. I just wanted it to stop, if anything. I wished this was a sick prank, I didn't care. I just wanted to go home, to live above the ground again. I had been there for some days, but I felt like had been here for too many hours.

I started crying, this wall is the reason Billy Showalter died. And at that moment it would be the reason I died too. I let everything flood out of me, my eyes watery. And the worst part was that all these tears wouldn't roll back all these years.

Every time the Grabber came to see me, I just wanted to yell. I wanted to cry, wail.
JUST LET ME GO HOME!
PLEASE I WANT TO GO HOME.
I WONT TELL, LET ME GO HOME.

Despite everything I wished for, I never returned home. At first though, I never believed that. I had truly thought I was the one, the one who would win at life. I didn't even get to finish it. I had used the tarp to cover the wall, and for a while I thought I would survive because it worked. The Grabbed didn't have a clue.

For a moment, I thought I was really making a breakthrough. I had gotten another call. The phone rang, I picked it up.

"Hello? Billy?"
"You don't have much time."

His voice didn't sound like Billy. And there was only one other person left that it could be.
"Are you Griffin?"
"Who?"

"Griffin Stagg." I said.
"Probably. It's all a little hazy, but I imagine you know my name." He said.

"Almost every kid in the state does. I didn't know you like that though."
"Nobody did."

I felt bad. Maybe, just maybe Griffin would be alive if we had just payed attention to him.
"You spend so many years invisible. And the every kid in the state knows your name."

I stayed silent, not knowing what to say.
"You don't have much time." He said sternly.
"What do I do with my time? I need help, Griffin. I cant go down knowing The Grabber is still isn't caught."

"There's a dirt section. It's in the floor of the hallway. There's a lose tile."
"What then?"
"Dig down. Underneath the foundation."

"I've tried. But I wasn't strong enough to remove this big dirt block before The Grabber noticing my attempt to escape." He said
"Will I have enough time?" I asked.

He giggled.
"Hurry, you don't have much time."

He hanged up.
"Griffin?" I double checked.
No answer.

But I hadn't waited another second. I started digging, again. My hands were hurting, they stabbed. They burned and bit at my finger tips. My nails were brown and dirty. But I had to keep digging.

For Amy.
For my Mother.
For my Father.
For Y/n.
For my teammates.
For the victims.
For my friends.
For me.

Maybe it wasn't enough. I guess maybe if I was stronger or smarter I would have escaped. I bet I made a new record on how little time I spent in this basement. Today was my third day in this basement, and my last in life.

I dug, I dug so far. For some moments I had lied down, and just cried. I was so tired, drained out of everything that held me up. I know i've said I would escape for everyone. But I am not the one with the happy ending, and in that moment I was coming into terms with it.

It's all a little hazy to remember how I died. But I can still remember, it flashes through my head. I had turned my head, I was standing in the hole that I dug.

The Grabbed was there, at the door. He walked into the hall, he noticed me. He noticed the damaged I had done, and none of it helped either of us. His mask..it was one I had never seen before.

It was frowning, but more than frowning, it was enraged. My breath hitched, dread had filled my body. I was no longer alive in that moment. It was like I had been killed and stripped away from everything I owned.

He spoke, but I didn't hear what he said. I was too busy realizing this is how I would go down. Maybe everything was supposed to be this way. Whoever the next victim was, they would get my help. That's what I'm destined to be, a victim.

Bruce Yamada did not win at life, I then knew that. I had filled my head with fake hope and thinking I would survive because I had people. It all so hazy, seeing The Grabber turn into pure evil.

A second later, I was out the hole. Every thing around me had blurred into a fine line. I remember my whole body felt limp, it was sore. Something was stabbing at me, in my head and on my body. Everything I had done in my life was sliding off my finger tips.

I was slowly fading away from my body. I was lifted up, so very slowly and painfully. I cried out for my mother, my father, my sister, until I had forgotten who they were. Once I had forgotten them, I had forgotten myself.

What was it that I loved?
Or was I just angry?
Did I even feel?
I can't feel anything anymore, I am only sore.

I could feel every inch of my life pull away from my skin. My lips were no longer accompanied by Y/n, they were cold and dry. My hands were no longer holding my bat, my hands were sore and red. My arms were not embracing my mother, they were attacked. My voice was not laughing at my sister's jokes, it was gone. My legs were no longer running with father at baseball practice, they were limp.

I could not breathe anymore.
The Grabber stole it all.
Who I am.
What I as.
But most importantly,
Who I could've been.

My soul.
My skin.
My body.
My mind.
My voice.
My consciousness.

I am now Deathconsciousness.

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