In Pieces (A Larry Stylinson Oneshot)

      My hands are shaking. My palms are sweating. My heart is pounding so loud I can hear it in my ears. My face is soaked with the tears that are blurring my vision. There’s too many sounds. The tick of the clock hanging on the wall, the drip of a leaky faucet, and the voices. They won’t stop. “This is too much.” “They will never accept you.” “Why are you still here?” “Just end it.” My body trembles as I stumble over to my nightstand. I shakily grab my journal from the drawer. “I just can’t do this anymore. I can’t take it. I love him, with everything I am. He is my life, and without him, I’m nothing. I’m sorry this is how it has to end. I’m sorry. Don’t miss me too much.” Tears continue to pour from my eyes as I sign the entry with my name. I tear out the piece of paper and leave it on the counter, where someone should see it. I step out onto my balcony and look up at the night sky. I scream until my lungs burn, until the words dry out. I make my way to the bathroom, and cry until there’s nothing left but dry sobs. I collapse onto the floor, emotionally, mentally, and physically exhausted. I feel empty, like I’m nothing but a walking ghost of who I used to be. There’s no point anymore. Maybe the voices are right.. Maybe I should just end it.

       I find the energy to lift myself off of the floor. I unsteadily make my way over to the medicine cabinet. I grab three bottles. I head into the kitchen and make a pot of tea. I sit there at the counter and can feel myself getting worked up again. The tremors get worse, the voices return, louder this time. More impatient. I don’t realize I’m crying until I notice the wet drops on the countertop. I clutch the side of my head, trying to make it all go away. But it just won’t stop. “This is happening,” I think. “I’m going crazy.” I can’t stay here any longer.

       Steams whistles out of the tea kettle on the stove. “Finally” I say to the emptiness surrounding me. I get up and fix myself a cup of tea before grabbing the bottles and going back to my bedroom. I head over to the closet and grab one of his shirts from the laundry basket. I bring it up to my face and inhale deeply. It still smells like him. Perfect. I remove my shirt and toss it to the floor, replacing it with his. It’s too small, but I don’t care. The fragrance alone is enough to calm me down a little. I sit on the edge of the bed and open the first bottle. The doctor said they would help my anxiety. She said they would calm me down, so I decide to take these first. I pour the contents into my palm, and take a deep breath before putting them into my mouth, all at once. I dry swallow them all, and take a sip of tea to rid my tongue of the taste.

      My hands are still shaking, a lot worse now. I almost dropped my cup of tea. I’m scared. I can’t believe I’m doing this. The bible says good things are on the other side. But I’m a sinner, the kind God won’t accept. I don’t want to know what’s after this life for people like me.  People who are a disgrace. But maybe it’s all bullshit. Maybe there’s nothing after this. Oblivion. Blackness. No feelings, no pain, no happiness, or sadness. Just, nothing. I wouldn’t mind that. I could handle that. Not that I would even know it, if it’s nothing.

        The pills must be working, because my heart seems to be slowing a bit, and the voices are a little quieter. But they’re all I can hear. And it’s making me mad. I grab the second bottle and open the cap. I’m emptying the bottle into my hand as I hear footsteps approach. I look up quickly, and see him in the doorway. He’s sweating, a lot. And crying. His eyes are swollen and puffy, and his cheeks are red. His hands are trembling as bad as mine. “I.. I can’t do this anymore” he chokes out. His eyes widen as he looks around. My heart beats faster again as he realizes what’s going on. I don’t want him to stop me. I just need to do this. I begin to bring my hand to my mouth, ready to swallow the second bottle’s worth of pills, but the desperate look in his eyes stop me. He steps over to me slowly and sits down. He gently takes my hand in his and his fingers trace over the pills. He looks up at me, an understanding look in his eyes. He swallows hard before whispering “Together?” I can’t believe this. He wants to do this with me. “But why?” I ask back. “I didn’t want to hide. I never did, but we had to. I dreamed and waited for the day we could be free. And that day is almost here. But they don’t want us anymore. And I don’t want to be here. I’m only still here because of you. I’m nothing without you. Whatever is after this life,  it has to be better than now. So.. together?” “Together” I say as he opens his hand. I lean my head down slightly and kiss his lips before giving him half of the pills I’m holding. I look at him, asking him if he’s sure with my eyes, and he nods slightly. We both lift our hands to our mouths and tilt our heads back, swallowing together. I pass him the cup of tea so he can take a sip, and I do the same once he’s finished.