Holstering High School 2 (The Walking Dead Game - Alternative Universe)

Epilogue

Nick and Pete both walked into their house. Nicks face was crusted by tears. He began to pull of his tie as quickly as he could. The funeral he had just attended was too much...even for him.

"Son, do you want anything?" Pete asked sympathetically. But Nick said nothing, only to walk slowly up the stairs and lock himself away.

He laid on his bed. The same bed him and Clementine had made so many memories on, all suddenly forgotten by the current events. Nick didn't even know it was possible to cry this much, his head was banging from the pressure crying had brought.

Nick was glad the funeral was over. He would no longer have to be in that environment again. He then reached over into his mini fridge and pulled out a warm beer, studying it and wishing it was something stronger. He didn't feel like going downstairs and taking the whiskey from the cupboard underneath the sink. Pete would question it too much.

He was going to wait until Pete finally drifted off to sleep to do the deed he had wanted to do for the past couple of years of his life. Nick didn't want to live in a world where everyone he loves dies, disintegrates through his fingers in seconds. When Nick had found out the news about Clementine he had never felt so angry, slamming his fist into a brick wall until it bled immensely, Pete pulled him away before he began headbutting the wall. Nick was only doing this to make sure he could die a painful death too.

Nick spent hours sipping on as many beers as he could find and looking at one photograph, the photograph of them at prom, kissing. The last picture of her, alive. Happy. He remembered the taste of her lips, how he felt when it happened. He loved that girl more than anything in the world and some bastard took that away from him.

Everything told him not to look through her phone. But he tapped in her password and began flicking through her photographs. He thought it was his fault, he never remembered he had taken her phone. The photographs on her photo consisted of selfies of the two of them. Nicks heart began to beat faster as he saw them but slowly slowed down to a pace below normal as he came to the realisation he would never see this beautiful girl ever again.

Nick waited and waited until he was 100 percent sure that Pete was asleep. He snuck downstairs and headed straight towards the kitchen. Not thinking twice about what he was about to do he grabbed the bottle of Jack Daniels and then began to search through the medical cabinet. Taking as many pills from the cabinet he cradled the small boxes and containers carefully. Sneaking back upstairs he throws all of the boxes on the bed and cracks open the new bottle of whiskey.

Taking the largest swig that he possibly could, burning his throat. Nick began the task of taking all of the tablets out of their little plastic prisons, popping them out one by one. Sleeping pills, paracetamol, and few of his own antidepressants. He found himself sat next to a collection of various tablets, unsure of the effects. Another swig of the glass bottle.

Before he could do anything he grabbed the nearest photo he could, it just so happened to be the framed picture that Clementine had gotten him for his 18th birthday. He couldn't view it with the glare of the moonlight on the frame so he began removing it, gulping down the whiskey every chance he got. Tears streamng down his face as he mumbled to himself. The back of the frame popped off their was a folded up piece of paper, Nick undid it as his curiosity got the better of him.

It was a letter, from Clementine. The bible she said she would write him. He shuts his eyes from a second to control himself before reading.

'Nick, happy 18th birthday. I know you won't get this letter then but when you do get it, I hope I'm still deeply in love with you. I doubt I wouldn't be, I find it hard to stay a weekend away from you, let alone forever. When I first met you, I knew you were different. You helped me settle into the school and I'm sorry I was stupid enough not to see that you you make me so much happier than Luke ever did. I love your hair, you should take your hat off more often, you look amazing. I can't even explain how proud your mom would probably be of you, I'm proud of you. You changed yourself for the better. The way you speak to me makes me feel so special, when I'm around you I feel so different as to when I'm not...in a good way. I just want you to know, you've effected my life in the greatest of ways. Even my parents like you, I mean there's a first for everything. You're an amazing man, don't let anyone ever tell you you're not. Even without me you can achieve greatness, how about joining a band and becoming a rock star? You have the potential, whether or not you'd want the rock star lifestyle, that's up to you. Even if you're a runner in a office, fetching people their coffee. You'd be the best runner around. If you open this letter when we're 30 and I'm no longer with you, find me. I know I'll always feel something special for you. Nick Randall...I love you more and more everyday, there's nothing that would make me want to change that. I love you. Happy 18th birthday xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx'

Nick read the letter over and over again until the word practically transferred themselves into his eyeballs. The paper in front of him was wet from his tears, smudging the writing which made Nick cry even more. Another couple of swigs and he finally picked up the photograph of them together. They were both so...happy.

Nick picked up a handful of the various tablet and threw them in his mouth, taking a gulp of the burning drink to wash down the various medications.

"I love you too" he slurred looking down at the photo as his tear ducts broke open once more flooding his cheeks with tears. Yet again he took another small handful of the pills and repeated his past actions over three time. Pills. Swig. Pills. Swig. Pills. Swig. Until all of pills that were laid beside him were now dispersing out of his stomach and going into his system.

Nick was struggling to keep his eyes open but he just kept crying and crying. Then drinking and drinking until finally his body gave up. He began vomited down the side of his bed, he felt like death. This is what he wanted. He was sweating and felt as if he was on fire. But he quickly drank the rest of the bottle of whiskey as quickly as he could. He began slurring again as he struggled to breath.

"I love you so fucking much" he whimpers smashing his hand against his mattress. Suddenly he fell backwards as he passed out.

He began to vomit but this time there was no escape. He was out of it, laying on his back allowing himself to choke on his own vomit. His throat became blocked, he was unable to breath. The whiskey bottle slowly slipped from his fingers and made a loud noise when it hit the floor.

His eyes were clamped shut. Never to be opened again.

*********

Well, that was depressing.
Did you enjoy the story? (Sorry it was short)
Is there any other types of stories you would like to see me write?

Are you crying? xD