Kiss and Tell

Kiss & Tell - [Part Fifty-three]

Kiss & Tell

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Kiss & Tell - [Part Fifty-three]

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what's the point of living? I heard death is easier

more than life - Machine Gun Kelly and glaive

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Caleb POV

"Bro," the guy on the other side of the phone began, his voice shaky and clearly nervous. "It's Josh," I immediately recognize him; one of my drug dealers. My heart is quick to drop once again...I thought...I thought...

"What the fuck do you want?" I shout angrily into the phone, seconds away from slamming it onto the ground and breaking it into tens of thousands of pieces. My breath hikes up a notch and my mind slowly began turning into a fit of rage.

"Th- there was a gunshot in the Manson's building!" Josh stammers out, the nervousness that was there a second ago is replaced with fear.

I'm frozen in place, the fire that was beginning to ignite inside me dies down. The Manson's building...that's where you decided to die?

The building was old, aged almost 100 years, and infested with rats and all kinds of roaches. It reeked of shit and often I would find the homeless sleeping on the cold floors of the 5-floor building apartment that has long been abandoned by the city.

I didn't understand why anyone would want to die in such a dirty place as that. But then again, maybe he wanted to be symbolic. Maybe killing himself there is his own punishment to himself. Maybe he thought that he deserved this. Maybe his demons seduced him there, calling him to the darkness and the filth and the shit and the cold and the loneliness that reflected the Manson's building.

Whatever the reason it was, I understood. Hell, I even accepted it. Suddenly I didn't feel like crying anymore, I didn't want to hurt, I wanted it all to stop, and accepting this was going to numb the agony lying inside my chest begging for me to scream out, to cry, to beg to whatever God that was watching silently from above to let this all be a dream, let him be okay, let me be the one who dies. But I ignored it. Because screaming wasn't going to do anything for me right now and crying most definitely wouldn't either and God didn't exist.

I take my time driving to the Manson's building. I should have already called the cops and sent them there by now. However I couldn't do that yet, not when my brother Ashton was kind enough to leave me a gift behind that I'm sure comes with not only PTSD but years of coming nightmares and a whole lot of depression.

I just needed to go receive my gift, and then after that, the cops can come and I can go back to that black void that had felt so welcoming when it warmly grasped onto my hand, guiding me into it right before I was pulled away by the call.

Jasmine POV

I'm paralyzed. I can't feel anything.

I felt everything all at once but now I feel nothing.

I look down at myself. I'm still here, my body was whole, I'm fine, I'm fine. You're okay.

But then I'm running, away from the bed, the room, the white walls of the silent hospital.

Away from him. You are a coward.

I shove the doors of the hospital open, ignore the nurse who wouldn't stop insisting for me to sign out, and I run and I run and I run.