minizerk oneshots

eight

suicide note

Blurred vision, that's what Simon had been seeing for the past ten minutes. His hands shook as he sloppily wrote. He didn't bother to wipe the tears that pooled in his eyes. The salty liquid slid down his face, dripping onto the paper, and dampened the thin sheet of notebook paper. He wrote quickly, pressing his pen into the paper with such force his knuckles were beginning to turn white. Simon felt dizzy as he was nearing the end of his work, feeling weak and empty. That's all he'd been feeling lately, emptiness.

Simon sat back and admired his work, if that's what you want to call it. It was twisted in such a way that made him almost smile. All of the pain and hell put onto a few sheets of notebook paper.

"Pathetic." Simon scoffed. He tossed the pen to the side, not caring where it landed since it wouldn't matter in a few hours anyways. Simon stood from his desk and walked over to the bathroom. His head was spinning and a soft ringing filled his ears. He clutched his stomach and stumbled over to the toilet.

Simon gripped the sides of the cold, white bowl and threw up whatever he had left in him. Coughing and sputtering for air, Simon emptied his stomach into the bowl. Simon pulled himself up and pulled the silver handle, watching his insides disappear. He was surprised of how much came out of him since he hadn't been eating. Simon wiped his mouth with his sleeve and shuddered, the taste of vomit overwhelmed him.

Simon looked into the mirror and studied himself thoroughly. He was a mess. His eyes were rimmed red and tears made his cheeks glisten. Simon's face was pale except for his nose which was cherry red from crying. He brought his hand up to his cheek, studying  his face. His slender fingers dragged across his smooth, silky skin. He was bony, fragile, and dead looking. His eyes were hollow and sunken. Instead of the bright eyes he once wore he now had dark bags that sunk into his skin.

Simon felt like his head was going to explode. The dings from his phone were driving him crazy. He hurried over to the device to find that Josh had been messaging him like crazy. Five missed calls and ten unread messages. He felt a stab of pain ache deeply within his chest. His body racked with sobs as he sat as his desk again.

This is the hard part. Simon thought to himself. Am I being selfish? Simon began to question himself. His heart raced as a flow of thoughts ran through his head. I can't help it that I hate myself. Simon felt like he was drowning and no one could save him. The blonde boy struggled to breath as he sat there. This is it. This is how the story unfolds. Simon smiled to himself, finding the situation ironically funny. He found it amusing in a dark, twisted way. Just a while ago he thought everything was okay, that he was getting better. Boy was he wrong.

Simon had only gotten worse, he became more fragile. The constant pain of knowing he wasn't good enough consumed him. Simon had been walking on a tightrope lately, only needing the littlest reason to push him off of the edge. That something had been Josh.

Josh, his best friend and man he loved, had been the last straw. Simon never thought the last person he had would turn on him. It's all my fault, I fucked things up. Simon only cried harder, his phone ringing for the sixth time. He reached for his phone and fumbled with it, trying to answer it.

"Hello?" Simon's voice was raspy and irritated from throwing up. On the other side of the line he heard someone sigh.

"Simon! Jesus, I've been calling and texting you! Why haven't you been answering?" Josh spoke fast, his words were jumbled together, and Simon had a hard time understanding Josh. Simon sniffled and let Josh ramble on, scared to interrupt him. Once he was done, Simon sighed and weakly spoke.

"Why do you care?" Simon bitterly spoke. Josh's heart broke from hearing those words. Simon had all the right to be angry with him, to hate him even. What Josh did was horrible, the things he said were even worse.

"I didn't mean it, Si. I wasn't thinking correctly. You have to believe me." Josh was crying too as this point, he unfolded, desperately trying to get Simon back.

"Why should I? You even said it yourself, I'm nothing to you. I'm worthless." Each word was a stab at Josh's heart. Simon was slowly falling apart, he had already opened his desk drawer, and held a bottle of pills in his hand. He clutched the plastic bottle as if it was his life. Funny enough, that was the bottle that held the pills to take his life.

"Simon, I didn't mean it. Please just come back. I love you." Josh's voice cracked which tore another piece of Simon's heart. Does he? Simon felt as if the wind was knocked out of him.

"D-do you?" Simon struggled to get the words out. He licked his chapped lips and chewed at them nervously.

"Yes, Simon. I've now realized I always have. What I said to you, what I did to you, I only did because I was scared. I was in denial, and now I know I can't contain my love for you. Please, come home." Josh poured his heart out to Simon. The blonde boy dropped the pill bottle. The only thing that could be heard was the sound of the pills clanking together as they hit the soft carpet.

"Don't leave me." Simon whispered.

"I won't, ever. Just come home, baby." Josh pleaded. Simon got up from his seat and shoved his keys into his sweater pocket. Simon sniffled and wiped his tears away instead of letting them freely fall.

"I'm coming." Simon breathed out which earned a content sigh from Josh on the other end. Simon hung up and longingly looked at the paper on his desk. You don't win this time.