The Man On the Other End

21 - Pills

(attempted suicide, pills/substance abuse, sh, heaven/jesus, religious beliefs)

George <333

hey if u want to talk now i'm free

i hesitated to send the message, what if it was serious, and i couldn't help him? what if i'm just over thinking the whole thing?

okay i'll call u in a bit <3

i noticed i began to smile at the text messages. i could only imagine his smile and his giggles i would hear daily. i couldn't imagine seeing a tear fall from such pretty eyes. it seemed as though he had nothing wrong in life, so i never asked. had i been wrong for that?
—
about 2 minutes passed when Dreams phone began to ring uncontrollably. he quickly picked up the phone and clicked the answer button on the phone.

he was wearing an oversized hoodie so you couldn't see his wrist, and some sweatpants that were actually clean. for once, he looked how he used to look back when George was present. he was proud of himself, confident.

"what's wrong, love?" i said, looking at the brunets ceiling that was showing on the FaceTime camera. it was unusual for him to not show his beautiful face.

"wha- oh- uhm. nothing," he said grabbing his phone off of wherever it was and pointed it at his face.

*george pov*

i hesitantly picked my phone off of the empty side of the bed next to me. i wiped my eyes a little to get the last of my tears out and propped the phone up to face my face.

i could tell his voice change as he asked if i'm alright for the second time. he could definitely tell i had been crying.

"George?" he interrupted my thoughts, snapping me back into reality.

when i get lost in my thoughts they're usually deep. i get in a trance kinda, and only he could snap me out of it. goddamn did i miss this boy.

*dream pov*

i could see he was aware of what was happening now, i had snapped him out of his thoughts.

"so what was that message about, Georgie?" i said, if he was coming sooner i wanted to know the exact date.

it broke me seeing him like that. red, puffy eyes. who hurt him? was it me? did i do something wrong? did he even want to talk to me?

"oh uhm, well. i talked to my mum about moving there and she didn't really take it well and kicked me out..."

"wha- i'm so sorry George," i said my eyes filling up with water quickly.

"n- no it's okay, she does this when she's stressed, i'm used to it," he shrugged.

i tried my best to hold in my tears so George wouldn't see me cry, but i failed. one tear streamed down my face. i left it alone and looked away from the camera. eventually wiping it off my cheek.

"please don't cry, Clay. you're gonna make me cry," his voice broke. i hated this, but i knew we had to talk about it, maybe it would help him.

my thoughts flooded my head, the blood, the scars, the bloodshot eyes and the drugs, alcohol.

we both sat in silence, but not an uncomfortable kind. we were both sat in front of the screen, wishing that we were together, holding each other. comforting one another, but instead we were crying about it instead of doing something about it.