Fuenciado One-Shots

-Gone-

(Trigger warning¿)

(Jaime's POV)

"Babe?" I call out into the apartment, which was oddly quiet. I got home from work, hoping to be surprised with a giant hug and kiss from my adorable boyfriend of almost four years. He almost always did, unless he was in a bad mood.

Vic and I met back in senior year of high school. He was picked on a lot from what I saw and later found out why. I took it as my responsibility to always be here for him, but I always felt shitty when I had to go to work because that meant he'd be alone, and I know how he gets when he's alone. Vic was diagnosed with a bipolar disorder and labeled as a manic depressive, meaning if he was off his medication, his emotions went haywire. Did that make me love him any less? Of course not. Vic was still the light of my day and the stars in my night sky. He was always the one who had a heart; always being selfless and wanting to help others even though he barely could help himself.

The thought of wanting to make sure he was alright caused me to loosen the black tie around my neck and kick off my shoes. I started walking down the short hall to our bedroom, hoping to see him snuggled up in bed with his favorite movie playing on the small tv.

"Vic?" I ask softly. But was I in for a surprise when I opened the door.

Hanging loosely from the ceiling fan, body limp and frozen with the small sway from side to side, was the love of my life with a rope tied into a noose tightly around his neck. The chair was kicked back and his eyes bloodshot and staring straight forward with the veins popping out through his skin underneath.

At that very moment, I felt my whole chest tighten, the air leaving my lungs. I was frozen in my spot, not being able to hear anything other than my heart thumping against my rib cage. The creak from the rope swinging snapped me from my daze and I quickly rushed to his side, lifting his small, fragile frame up, quickly trying to unwrap the rope. I was finally able to get him down, setting his limp body down on the bed.

"V-Vic?" I choke, the fogginess blurring my vision. I pressed my ear to his chest, not hearing the familiar heart beat that I found so soothing to hear. I grabbed his wrist to check for a pulse, but only felt cold skin against my fingers.

"F-Fuck!" I yell, my breathing becoming erratic. "V-Vic, baby, p-please," I whimper, shaking his body. His dead eyes were dried and lifeless, making me slap him on instinct. "Wake up!" I scream, hot tears stung my cheeks, my heart crumbling and the walls started closing in.

"Why?! Why the f-fuck would you do this!? You're so god damn stupid!" I yell, gripping my hair in my hands, not being able to look away from his body. I couldn't focus, all I could focus on was the lifeless body of the boy I loved dearly. The boy who I was planning to propose on, on our four year anniversary. The boy who was my first and whom I want to be my last. The boy who I have everything to. The boy who always tried smiling even when he had tears in his eyes. Why didn't I notice this sooner!?

I quickly scrambled to grab my phone, dialing 911 as fast as I could with shaky fingers.

"911, what's your emergency?" The lady asked in a monotone.

"M-My boyfriend, he-he's dead and I-I-" I couldn't keep talking because another sob shook my body. I gripped Vic's limp hand, wishing to whoever is up there that he'd give it a small squeeze.

"Sir, can I have the address?" She asks, more alert now. I quickly sputter out the address, my hands shaking vigorously. She told me to sit still and that someone's on their way. I dropped my phone and brought Vic's hand up to my lips.

"W-Why didn't you tell me?" I whine, kissing his hand repeatedly. "You should've told me." I sob, clutching his cold hand to my chest.

"I-I was going to ask you to marry me, you know. W-We would've had a perfect wedding, and-and I know I don't make a lot but I would take you anywhere for the honey moon, and we were supposed to grow old together, remember? We—we were going to adopt a little girl just like you always wanted, a-and then have a family, and you could be happy. I thought you were happy?" I ramble pathetically through my cries. I couldn't stop. I kept talking and talking like he was listening. The rational side of me thought about how he would always seem off and in self-destructing moods. I should've done something. I should've fucking been here.

The next few minutes were a blur. The officers arrived, taking Vic's gorgeous yet lifeless body away. I, of course, kissed his forehead and broke down even more. They searched the room for any evidence. They told me that they found his medication empty, which meant he took it all since we just got a refill two days ago.

But after his body was gone, I just sat there on our bed. I stared at the ceiling fan in pure hatred. Why did he not tell me? Why was I so oblivious to this? I wanted to cry, I wanted to scream and shout and throw things, but instead, I sat there, thinking back to our first kiss, our first date, the first time Vic told me he loved me, the first time we slept with one another. I thought of the good times, the bad times, and everything in between.

I felt like my heart wasn't even beating anymore. I wish it wasn't. We had our lives planned out together. We would lay in bed, talking about places we'd like to travel to, things we'd like to do together. Now, it was just a wish. It was a faint call. I knew I wouldn't be able to get rid of his stuff either. The fact that he was gone, really hit me when I got the call saying they inspected everything in him and found out he took all his meds and was clearly not in his right mind frame.

I just had one question lingering on my tongue; why? Why did he do it? He always said he was afraid of death, that he was scared of what'd happen to him afterwards or if it'd be painful or not. So why? Was he that unhappy that he just had to take his own life? Of course he was, but he always assured me he was fine. He lied to me, he should've fucking told me!

I stood up, ignoring the ceiling fan and walked to his drawers. I opened the second one, where he kept his shirts and reached in for his favorite shirt. It was a Sublime shirt that I bought for him for his 19th birthday. He wore it almost every night to bed. As I picked it up, I felt a piece of paper though. Did he leave a note?

Anxious for any answers, I picked up the crumbled sheet and sat back down. I unwrinkled the messy lined paper, my eyes already watering from the first word.

"Jaime,

I know this is shitty for me to do, and I know it's shitty for me to just go, but I have to. I am perfectly happy with you, but I'm not happy with myself, and it's not fair for you to have someone pulling you down. It's not fair for you to have to work your ass off just for this apartment, while I'm too scared to even walk outside. He came back, I don't know how he found me, but he did, and when I went to the grocery store to buy us some dinner, he saw me and did it again. I didn't want to tell you, because I know you'd get angry, but I can't help the feeling of the dirt and disgust on my body.

I can't see him again, I just can't, so here's the inevitable. You helped me so much, Jaime. You've made me see light on my darkest days, but I'm tired of the still dull ache in my chest. Something is seriously wrong with me and I can't figure out what it is. I hate that I feel this is the only way out, but it honestly is. I've tried getting professional help, but it doesn't work. I tried everything I could, yet I'm still being taunted by none other than myself.

Don't blame yourself, I know how you get. Don't dwell on me being gone, because I won't. I'll always be with you. You'll always have a part of me too. I love you so much, Jaime, and I know those words don't explain everything, but know that I love you. I always will. We both knew this was inevitable, we both know I'm fucked up in the head.

I took all my pills, hoping they'd make me happy, but they didn't. They just made my tummy hurt, and I'm tired of hurting. You made the pain bearable but with him around, it's to the point where I feel that if I so much as look out the window that he'll hurt you. I know you wanted a future together, and so do I, but I can't see myself in the future, let alone with a perfect person with you.

You deserve so much more, Hime. You deserve happiness, you deserve someone who'll treat you right and who is level headed without all these mental issues. But thank you. Thank you for taking care of me. Thank you for showing me that there is some good in this world. Thank you for punching Eric in the face in senior year for calling me ugly. But most of all, thank you for loving me when I couldn't love myself.

I'll see you later, okay?

Love,
Vic."

I hugged the note to my chest, letting the sobs rack my body once again.

He should've fucking told me.

~

Well yeah idk I'm sad so here's a sad one shot