Tom Holland - B L U E B L O O D

T W E L V E

(1210 words)
~Y/N POV~

I felt pain... pain in my chest, pain in my throat, pain in my stomach. Everything was foggy, I didn't have the energy to open my eyes. I laid there feeling everything I could feel. My lips where dry, my head was pounding, my body felt cold, I wanted to vomit. I tried to move my toes. I wanted to get up, I wanted to run, I didn't know where, all I knew was I wanted to get out of wherever I was. My toe finally twitched and it helped bring be back to reality. I heard faint beeps and hums, like bees in my ears. My eyes slivered open, the light stung. When my pupils adjusted I opened them fully. The confusion left as I realized where I was. The sounds of the machines around me because clear. Fuck. Not again.

I laid there moving my fingers and toes, I couldn't move much else, but I wanted to get someone's attention.
"Noah" I tried to speak, but the tube down my throat muffled it into a moan.
"Hu?" I heard voice. I tried to speak again but the pain in my throat stopped me.
"Y/N?!" I saw Noah's face emerge in my field of view. "NURSE! NURSE!" His head snapped to the door then back at me. "SHE IS AWAKE"
The nurse came up to the bed and pushed some buttons. She handed a marker and lifted a white board to my hand.
"What is your name?"
"Y/N" I wrote sloppily. The nurse nodded and erased the board.
"What year is it?"
"2019" I wrote again.
"Who is the president?"
"I know who the fucking president is I'm not brain dead" I wrote, as life began to fill my body.
I saw Noah's face turn from fear to joy.
"Did I die?" I wrote.
"Just about" Noah answered. The nurse handed the board to Noah and left the room.
"How long will I be in here?"
"I'm not sure, but your not getting out anytime soon"
"Tom?" I wrote, knowing Noah would be upset.
"I haven't heard from him..." there was a moment of silence. "why did you do it?"
"I'm crazy"
"Did he do something"
"I have problems, it's not him"
"What the fuck did he do?!" Noah's face almost went red.
"Noah, nothing. Now can someone get this damn tube out of my throat so I can talk!"

~TOM POV~

The next few days I stayed inside. I indulged on coke and liquor. I didn't go to work and I had a lot of missed calls. I laid in bed, glittery from coke, but my mind was slowed from the alcohol. I thought about texting Y/N... a lot, but I knew it wasn't a good idea. I would just fuck it up more. I thought about life too much. I thought about how I all my friends were criminals or addicts like me, or how I always seem to fuck up every good relationship I have, even with my own family.
What was I doing here? Going through life, doing drugs just to feel something. I had no real purpose, I was just living just to be alive.
I thought Y/N would help, maybe help me do something that brought my life meaning.

I was spread out on my bed, staring at the ceiling. Everything around me reeked of alcohol. A loud banging on my door snapped me out of my dissociation. I sat up slowly and listened. Three more loud bangs filled the room.
"Tom!" I heard a mans voice. "Tom? You in there?" He banged on the door a couple more times. I laid back down, losing myself back into the ceiling.
"Tom Holland! Open up!" I didn't move.
"Don't make me come in myself!" I tuned him out. My eyes drifted closed as I heard muffled noises enter my apartment. My eyes re-opened as the man slapped me across the face. My hands instinctively held my aching cheek.
"Mhm" I mumbled. I tried to focus on the mans face but my vision was hazy.
"Tom, you need to come into work."
"D-iid yo-uu break t-hhe do-door?" I slurred.
"Fuck Tom, really?" I just looked at him, swaying back and forth from my loss of balance. "What the fuck has gotten into you?"
The man who I still couldn't recognize grabbed the bottle out of my hand.
"Aye!" I tried to reach for it back, but I ended up falling onto the floor. "Who a-are yyou?" I asked.
"Are you joking right now?" I continued to stare at him from the floor.
"Sa-m?"
"Yeah, now get up!" Of course, I didn't.
Sam grabbed me from under my armpits and lifted.
"You are gonna kill yourself if you keep this up Tom"
"T-that's tha pointtt"
"What's wrong?" He sat me on the couch.
"M-y life"
"Tom"
"That's my n-name" he pinched the bridge in between his eyes.
"I'm taking you to the hospital"
"Fuc-kk off" I somehow fell of the couch.
"Tom! I'm not going to have another one of my friends kill themselves !"
"I'm n-not yourr friennnd"
"Come on" he came over and put my arm over his shoulder.
"NO!" I tried to punch him but missed and fell to the ground.
"We can do this the easy way or the hard way"
"I-I-I'm not going!" I stood up the best I could and swung at him again. This time I hit him, but my unbalanced body crashed into his and we smashed my glass coffee table.
"Fuck" I mumbled. I rolled off of him and laid next to him. "I'm not going" I said in a calmer tone.
"I really think you should, look at yourself"
"Sam, I can handle it, I'm fine"
"Think real hard about this Tom, call whenever you need me" Sam got up, brushed himself off and left out of my broken down door.
"I'm fine" I mumbled to myself before falling asleep.

~Y/N POV~

  I've been in the hospital for several days now, Noah comes and visits every so often. I still haven't heard from Tom, and neither has Noah. I've given up on the possibility I'll ever see him again.

The doctors talk about how I need to go to a mental hospital. They said I'm not safe with myself. They said it would help me get sober and help with whatever is wrong in my head.
I really hate the idea of going back there, but some tiny part of me knows it's my only hope of getting better.

I still can't wrap my head around the fact that I basically died for 30 minutes. I didn't see god or anything, I only remembered darkness... which scares the shit out of me. Some moments I want to live, and get better, and start my life over. Some moments, I want to get up and smash through the window in my room, and fall 7 stories to my death. I can't trust what I feel anymore. Instead I just sit and wait, wait for something new to happen, something that might change how I feel.