~peterick oneshots~

there's always at least one person

I don't know what to call it

trigger warning: suicide

I kept hoping he would come back
and when he didn't I did something stupid
I miss him now. much more than before when I knew he would return
I wonder if he misses me too?
I wonder what happens when he thinks of me and knows that I'm gone
I hope he doesn't
and if he does I hope he moves on quickly
there's no reason for mourning when you were nothing to begin with
there's no reason to mourn the piece of shit who left you
when he's gone too I hope it's years from now
I hope by then he has someone new
I hope by then we could meet again
but I know that's impossible
if there's such a thing as hell and heaven
he would be an angel flying high above everyone and everything else
and I
I would be stuck below burning for eternity
burning for the apparent sin of leaving before my time
burning for all the times I've screwed up
I would burn for leaving him the way I did

patrick sat his paper aside. it was his form of a letter.

the kind of letter everyone- most everyone writes at least once in their life. this was patrick's first.

patrick knew he was being ridiculous. he knew there were so many reasons he should not do this, but was that stopping him? clearly not.

he knew he should talk to somebody, but he was too scared.

patrick was terrified of talking to anyone other than pete, and pete was not there, so he tried to deal with things by himself.

it is really hard to deal with this stuff by yourself.

patrick was home alone, and would be for at least two more days. his family left for some stupid trip while he was with pete and had not told him.

he had been feeling rather alone lately, sometimes even with pete, and felt nothing could help that.

he knew this was the most drastic way to deal with things- the arguments the screaming and yelling all in his head. though, he felt it was the only way to deal with things.

so, patrick grabbed the razor blade from the pencil sharpener, and went into his bathroom.

he pulled on an old pair of jeans and his favorite hoodie of pete's.

he runs the water in the tub, staring at himself in the mirror as it filled with freezing water.

patrick was terrified, as anyone would be.

as he thought of everything, all of his reasons to leave, and all of his reasons to stay, the main thing that stuck was pete.

pete was patrick's only reason to stay.

he hated the thought of hurting pete like this. though, this was the only way.

such a stupid thought from such smart person.

patrick glanced over to the tub, it was full enough, so he turned off the faucet and stared at the still water.

patrick wished pete was there.

patrick wished he had a way to talk to pete and to tell him about everything he had been feeling.

patrick wished pete's parents had not sent him away to camp for the summer.

patrick wished he had the will to stay even for pete.

patrick climbs into the tub, sinking into the freezing cold water. he wanted to say something, even if no one was there to hear it, but he had nothing.

he lets out a shaky breath as  he builds up the courage to go through with this. he closes his eyes tight, taking the razor and jerking it across each wrist, whining as the skin tears open and the blood pours out.

it was not long before he was gone. before he was nothing more than a corpse lying in a pool of his own blood, wrists sliced open, veins exposed.

that was all he was now. a corpse. a bloodied mess of nothing to anyone.

patrick was gone and no one knows. no one would care.

I'm sorry-