The Greatest Story You'll Ever Read

Real or Not Real?

SOTC: Misssing you, by All Time Low; Sick of Losing Soulmates, by Dodie.
Before I start, warning, you probably will cry. I'm so sorry.
This takes place at canon age or older. This also wasn't roleplay, but I've put it here anyway.

He was too late. All that was left was this scrap of paper, written in shaky cursive, so familiar, a script he'll never see again. His eyes skipped through, refusing to read anything until he got to his name.

Damian,
I can't make this better. You told me not to apologise, but that's the only thing I can think to say. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I can't do it anymore. You've always been stronger, please try to enjoy life without me. I know you can. Don't apologise, it's not you, it's me. Ew, how cliche. I can't find any other way to explain this, because I know how much you'll be hurting. Just please get over it, you can have a future where I would never. I love you so much, thank you for being my best friend. Goodbye forever, your bunny.

With that last word, he broke, collapsing to the floor in the school office. He wasn't aware of anyone around him, just the sinking pain in his chest. Tears were pouring down his cheeks, warm where warmth should no longer exist. Without Janis, nothing should exist. He shouldn't exist and yet he still did. But existence was no longer a reward. It was punishment, torture even, having to mourn his best friend, his soulmate, the one person he could find a comforting escape with. She was always so strong, but so weak. And now she didn't exist.

Who had found her? Who had to see her cracked and broken body and know that there was no hope left, not for her and not for the ones who loved her either? To see her glassy eyes, once so bright, now dull and lost? Was he glad he hadn't seen her like that? Yes, maybe, he didn't know what to think. So badly he wished he could scoop her into his arms one last time, kiss her forehead and watch his tears stain her icy skin, whisper her name to her unhearing corpse. Gone. She was gone. Gone forever.

He promised never to let her get hurt.He failed over and over again, watching her break when he can't fix it. How could he fix this? It was his fault. Logically, he knew it wasn't, but he kept returning to his own guilt. He had killed his best friend with his own selfish actions.

How long had he sat here blinded by his tears? 10, 20, 30 minutes? 2? He didn't know. How could he know? Logic didn't mean anything to him,lost as he was in the whirlpool of his thoughts. These kind of things never happened to him, these were the things you heard on the news and forgot. Janis, his best friend, his only close friend, had gone. She was dead. That one word felt so heavy, smacking his heart hard. Dead, dead, dead, like a chant, a taunting chorus, bullying him, reminding him that he's alone. Alone forever, was there even a point in life anymore? How could he even try to live without her by his side? 

How could she even have done this? No, it wasn't her fault. And yet he found a tiny bit of blame, clinging to the memories of her. The good memories, the ones where she was smiling, laughing, light behind her eyes. He had so many of these, so many little things that would forever remind him of her. Her hair that smelt of her strawberry shampoo, her love for the fluffy animals in the zoo, her little trinkets that littered every surface in her room, candles flickering as they would sit watching netflix and eating pizza late at night, the milkshake shop where she'd get vanilla and he'd get triple chocolate, watching her laugh and dance wild and free. None of these things could ever bring him joy again. Even if all he could get back is the times where she wouldn't sleep and all he could do was hold her as she cried. If that's all he could get back, even that would be enough. But it was over.

He stood suddenly, shakily, throwing off the hand he didn't realise was on his shoulder. Ignoring the voices he could hear yelling, the words he couldn't make out, he ran. He ran harder and faster than he ever had before, blinded by tears, his lungs burning. The pain was comforting almost. He deserved pain. Bursting through his door, he ignored his mom. What did she ever understand? 

As he collapsed on his bed, his eyes flew open. He couldn't even find the energy to scream. Was it really all just a dream?