Drop Dead | Sam Fender

Chapter Seventy Six

TRIGGER WARNING: SUICIDE

Sam

"Shit, have yet heard about Tyler?" Dean asked gravely as he stared down at his phone, the tone of his voice sending a deep feeling of dread around my body.

"No, what about him?" Harlow inquired as she peered over her boyfriend's shoulder to see whatever it was Dean was talking about. I watched with a sinking feeling as her mouth dropped open only to be covered with her hand. "No."

"Who's Tyler?" Drew questioned with a frown. Neither he nor Joe had any idea who Tyler was, having not been in school with us but he was a good friend to those of us who went to John Spence.

"One of our mates from school," Rory informed him. "What's happened, Dean? You're making me nervous."

"He's... he's dead," Dean whispered.

"What? No. He can't be," I protested as I felt tears begin to sting my eyes, the shock hitting me like a freight train. "I-I saw him this morning. He can't be..."

"His mam's put it up on Facebook," he muttered, handing the phone to me. I felt numb as I read the post, my stomach flipping with guilt. "He killed himself a couple of hours ago."

"Shit," Tom cursed, a hand running over his face as he processed the news. Beside him, Jess sat stewing in silence.

"No," I mumbled, shaking my head in shock as Rory clutched onto me for support and to comfort me. "No. He... he was telling me we needed to catch up this morning. We made plans. H-he can't be."

"Sam," Rory murmured in a futile attempt to pull me from my meltdown.

"He's not dead, Scarl. He can't be gone, we're gan oot next week," I breathed, my words frantic and full of guilt.

"Sam," she spoke firmly, grabbing my attention. I turned my gaze to her, my mouth snapping shut as I looked at her expectantly. "He's gone."

I began furiously shaking my head as a strangled sob escaped my lips, unable to swallow it down any longer. "I could have stopped him," I told her. "I shoulda known."

"Yer couldn't have known," she sighed, her eyebrows drawn together and her eyes filled with sorrow. "There's nowt yer coulda done."

"He said sommat to me... when I saw him," I announced as I ran my hand over my face. "I asked him how he was doing... and he said he was firing on three cylinders. I didn't know what he meant. Fuck. I shoulda known something was wrong."

"Yer can't blame yourself, Sam," Tom sighed.

"There's nothing yer coulda done," Harlow agreed but I couldn't hear their words. All I heard were the replays of Tyler's last words to me, echoing over and over in my mind. If only I knew what he meant, I could have done something but I was so focussed on getting to work that I hadn't stopped to think that it was a cry for help.

"Sam, please don't beat yourself up about this," Rory pleaded.

"How can I not?" I mumbled. My world was spinning so fast. I could hear the blood rushing in my ears, overpowering Rory's words as she tried desperately to pull back down to earth but it was a feeble attempt. "I need to go home."

"I'll come with yer," Rory offered as she began to gather her stuff.

I averted my eyes down at the table in front of me. "Alone," I murmured.

"Sam," she frowned.

"I need time to think," I told her.

Her lips pulled into a tight line as she studied me carefully. "Please, let me come with yer. I'll leave ya be, I won't even talk to you, I just don't want you to be alone right now," she begged.

I paused to consider her offer. "Alreet," I agreed hesitantly. I knew she was only concerned for my well-being, especially after bearing witness to my meltdown and I didn't have the energy to argue with her on the matter. I had to consider the fact that she and the others had also lost their friend and they too were hurting but there was a thick fog that had fallen over my mind that clouded my judgement.

I stood up silently as Rory muttered her goodbyes to the group. In the haze, I could barely hear Harlow's words of concern, sounding more like I was underwater than a mere few metres away from her.

Aurora

I took Sam's hand in mine gently and tugged him along, watching with apprehension as he followed with glazed-over eyes. The two of us walked in silence towards Sam's, both haunted by our inner turmoil. I could tell that Sam was torturing himself mentally and he would for a long while and all I could do is sit back and watch. I could lend comfort to him but Sam was as closed off as they came. Any mention of it would probably send him spiralling and as time progressed and his grief advanced, into a fit of rage, so I needed to tread carefully.

He was so lost in his own thoughts that I physically had to guide him towards the council estate he and his mam lived on. I even had to stop him from walking into oncoming traffic a few times too. It made my stomach turn with dread. He was like a zombie.

"Sam? Rory? That you?" Shirley called from deep inside the flat.

"Yeah, it's us!" I yelled back, carefully shutting the door behind me. Sam didn't even pause, immediately heading to his room and slamming the door shut. I let out a sigh, closing my eyes as I leant the door, unable to stop the tears from falling.

I could remember the day I first met Tyler. He was like a little ball of energy, always so happy and full of love.

"Alreet, lads! And... lass I've not met before, are yer new?" he greeted the three of us with a wide grin, one that made my head hurt as I recalled it.

"Aye, just moved here," I smiled in reply. "I'm Aurora, but yer can call me Rory!"

"Tyler," he beamed.

"Rory? Are yer crying?" Shirley asked as she stepped into the hallway, pulling me from my memories.

"Hmm?" I replied with a start.

"What's the matter? You and Sam haven't argued again have yer, pet?" she frowned.

I reached up and wiped away my tears, shaking my head in reply. "No, no... um, it's... it's Tyler," I faltered. "He killed himself a couple of hours ago."

"What?" she gasped, bringing a hand up to cover her mouth in shock. "B-but he was always so..."

"Happy?" I whispered with a sad smile. "I know."

"How's Sam taking it?" she inquired, her worried eyes flickered towards his bedroom door.

I pursed my lips together and shook my head. "Not well," I sighed as I turned my eyes to the old, wooden flooring. "He's blaming himself. He saw him... this morning."

"Oh," she murmured, her eyes closing in defeat. "My boy."

"He'll be fine, Shirl," I assured her but I wasn't so sure I believed my words. "I'll keep an eye on him."

"Thank you, love," she smiled softly, squeezing my shoulder softly as I passed her on my way to Sam's room.

Cautiously, I pushed the door open, my stomach sinking as my eyes lay on his curled-up form sitting on his bed, his arms encircling his knees and his blank gaze fixed on the paint of his wall. I let out a quiet breath, shutting the door softly behind me and joining him on the bed. I didn't utter a word as I sat next to him, resting a hand on his back comfortingly.