Kill Me With Words (All Time Low Fanfiction)

Chapter 23

“What?” My voice was shaky.

Alex crossed the room slowly. “That was Cassia on the phone.” He knelt down in front of me, taking my hands in his. “He committed suicide. They found his body this morning.”

“That’s-” My words caught themselves in my throat. “That’s not true. N-not Jacob.”

Alex bit his lip. “Finley... I’m so sorry.”

“No!” I said, pushing his hands away from me. “No... I need to...” Get out. Leave. Run away. Flee. “I need to go.”

I raced out of the living room, my thudding heart shaking my footsteps. The stairs were slippery as I ran up them, and I almost fell countless times, burning my hands on the tough carpet when I tried to pick myself up. I locked myself in the bathroom, and wasted no time in climbing on to the toilet. And I stood there, for no apparent reason, tears streaming down my face.

Everything was in slow motion. I could hear Alex and Jack running up the stairs after me, but their footsteps seemed too slow and heavy to be considered real. Like I wasn’t there at all, like I was too far away to understand what the noises meant. I felt like I was floating.

Jacob wasn’t dead.

My fingers were shaking. Not just my fingers. Every limb, every joint, quivering with an emotion I couldn’t name.

He could not be dead.

I was crying. Apparently. I didn’t think I was, but hot, wet tears were burning lines in my cheeks, stinging the bites I’d made in my lips.They were pooling in the dent in my chin, and then dribbling down to make salty tears on my neck. It felt like I was bleeding from every part of my body, not just my eyes.

Jacob said he’d never leave.

He wasn’t supposed to leave me. He said he wouldn’t, he said that he’d stay and protect me and keep me safe, he couldn’t have gone. He couldn’t have left. He couldn’t have left me.

I sat down on the toilet seat, still shaking.

“Finley?” Alex knocked on the bathroom door, “Finley, let me in. Open the door. Please.”

Calm down. Listen to Alex.

I was still crying.

“Fin, please talk to me,” Alex begged.

Focus. Focus. Focus. Focus.

“Finley?”

“Jacob,” I whispered, and began to make my way towards the latch on the door.

 

I don’t remember Alex carrying me to my bed, but I can remember lying in my bed. Staring at the ceiling through blurry eyes.

I don’t remember how long I laid there, but it felt like days. Time was measured by how the light from the window changed the colours of my walls.

I do remember hearing someone sniffing. I do remember thinking it was annoying, and wishing that they’d stop. I do remember realising it was me.

I don’t remember falling asleep. I do remember dreaming.

 

I dreamt of Jacob. We were children, playing in the garden. It was bright and green and grassy, too vivid to be real. I knew it was a dream, but I still sat and played with his legos, building jigsaw houses with the colourful bricks. I allowed him to invent force fields and heat-seeking  em missiles as we played war games. I let him win, just so I could see that infinite grin on his face one more time.