Not Guilty // William Afton

thirty five •

I dropped my keys at the sight of William's blood slowly pooling around him as he held a knife close to his chest. He was still alive.

He had been so silently, but so violently, sobbing on the floor. He was shaking so much, and along with the blood that was on the floor, there had been obvious drops of tears on the ground.

I quickly slapped my hand over my mouth and rushed over to him. What was with this guy and constantly bleeding?

"William what the fuck!" I kneeled down and turned him over.

The moment I turned him over, his crying became more obvious.

He had been choking on his own saliva from how much he had been sobbing there, for god knows how long. He couldn't breathe. His eyes had been puffy, hiding whatever was left of his eye bags. He was going to have a massive headache later.

Panicked, I looked over at his arm.

Starting from his wrist, all the way down to his elbow lateral, had been a long, deep gash that was oozing by the second. I looked over at the knife in his other hand.

He.. tried to kill himself.

I stood up and turned around, running my hands on my face trying to calm myself down before I could think on what to do.

Should I call an ambulance? Should I take care of this myself? Should I call Henry?

I'll call an ambulance. I don't think I have the mental stability to help him myself, knowing that if I hadn't come in here just then, he might have stayed here in the dark all night and bled out, all for me to find in the next morning.

I looked over at the man behind me who was trying to catch his breath.

As much as I want to know why the hell this happened, it's not my main concern right now.

I took a deep and shaky breath and fully turned back to him. "Alright, alright."

I stepped over his head and ripped the knife out of his hands, not allowing him to cause any more damage to himself than he already has. I placed the bloody knife on his desk.

My hands grabbed his underarms and dragged him closer to the wall. I couldn't prop him against the wall by myself.

"William, please just help me here." I was on the verge of tears. There had been a huge lump in my throat that I had been trying my hardest to swallow, yet it somehow kept finding its way up. 

William, still sobbing, weakly picked himself up and pushed himself against the wall.

His blood streaked when his arm got dragged from the floor, leaving a fine line of the crimson against the ground.

I looked at the pained man before me, sobbing and bleeding against the wall. Choking on his own saliva, struggling to breathe, obviously crying for the entire day.

"He deserves it all." A child spoke to me.

"Just shut the fuck up! Shut up, shut up!" I angrily yelled, quickly taking my sweater off and crouching next to William.

"Why won't you just leave him here to die? In reality, he only has you and Henry. He has no purpose here."

I picked up William's drenched arm as he tried to look at me with a puzzled expression, clearly knowing what they're telling me but not being able to stop his cries. I harshly pressed the sweater against his gash and tied the sleeves around his arm tightly, enough to make it feel like his hand will burst.

I can't leave him here because he was my best friend. He was the only person I had. I was absolutely devastated when I never saw him again. I never knew what happened to him. I assumed he moved, switched schools, went to jail, or even died. I can't bring myself to hate him for what he did. I can't leave him here, because I now know that I feel something for him. I have feelings for him. And I'll most likely never know if he feels the same, but I can't leave him here to die. No matter how many kids he's killed, or even adults.