Short Stories (Imagines, Original, Writing Prompts)

Thomas Sangster Imagine: Broken Heart

! This story contains sensitive content such as suicidal thoughts and possible attempt. Read on at your own risk !
     As you run in the house you see a few things scattered on the floor. Charging up the stairs, scared for Thomas' life, you hear him scream in anguish. You try to open the door but it's locked, " Thomas? Thomas it's me! Please let me in." You begged for what felt like forever. After only three minutes you hear nothing but silence. Suddenly, you hear a small click of a gun cocking. Anxiety and panic run through your body like a pressure crashing down on you. You have to get the door open.
He begins to mumble how he messed up with the relationship. He cried, he needed help, you were his help. You cried outside the door and stood back, speaking to Thomas. " Thomas I'm gonna kick in your damn door if you don't let me in!" You were so scared, you could picture him crying with a gun in his hands, putting it to his head, and pulling the trigger. The bangs that you heard earlier weren't from a gun, but you could picture him throwing things looking for it as if it was the only thing that mattered anymore.
Everything was silent.

- - - - - - - - - - 1 minute later - - - - - - - - - -

You were done waiting to hear him let you in. You stepped back and kicked the door with all your force. The kick was so violent it sent shivers up your leg. You kicked again, this time doing damage. Again, again, again. Finally the door swung open and you ran into his room. The site in front of your eyes horrified you, made you want to cry, and made you want to fall to the floor. Thomas' anguish and despair was so violent you could practically feel it yourself. You turned to your right and saw Thomas on the floor with blood on his hands, shirt, and pants. His hands were cut from the broken vase on the floor, the beer bottles, and mirror now lying on the floor that once hung on the wall. You thought of ways to try and comfort him, but nothing came to mind that you knew would work. Thomas looked up at you, tears streaming down his face. The demolished look in his eyes were heart throbbing. You felt your heart in your throat, burning tears in your eyes. You were grasping for words, something, anything.
"She thought I was cheating." Thomas' voice rang in your ears, his croaky, torn voice made your heart tear in two.
"She thought I was with you." The sound coming out of his mouth couldn't have been his voice. It was too bitter, too hostile to be his. Thomas kept a cold stare on you, his eyes piercing through you like a bullet through a target.
"Thomas, please, we need-" Thomas put the gun to his head. Your heart was practically clawing it's way out of your mouth. "Let me help you. I know you loved her, but she left you. Don't tear yourself apart just because of her."
Thomas looked up at you, "You don't understand! She was my everything, the love of my life!" Your legs feel like lead, your hands sweaty, and your head pounded like the bass from a speaker. You loved him, but he didn't love you back. You wanted to help him, but he didn't want your help anymore. His entire appearance changed right in front of your eyes. He called you for help, he did need you. Not anymore. He hated you because of a rumor you had both thought you put to rest.
You slowly walkover to him, with every step it gets harder to breathe, harder to walk.
His face was no longer contorted with just despair and anger, but hate and rage. You needed to get the gun before he pulled the trigger. Thomas' finger moved to the trigger, "Thomas don't. Don't you dare. You can hate me, you don't ever have to see me after this. But please, don't take yourself away from everyone else." With each word you got closer, your hand now on the gun. You stared at him as you glided your right hand to his hand holding the gun. Your skin touches and he grips the gun tighter.
"Back off!" He attempts to push you away but you hold your ground. Grabbing his hand with your right one, you put the safety on with your left and take the gun from him.
The second the gun leaves his grip Thomas collapses like a dead corpse. He sobs into his bloody hands, slowly moving his body into a fertile position. You empty the clip and take the bullet out of the chamber. Setting the gun down on the floor you slide it across the room in the opposite direction from Thomas. You pull your phone out of your back pocket and dial 911. You set your phone on the bed and slowly approach Thomas. You sit by him, not to close, but not too far to hold him if he would let you. A woman's voice spoke through the phone, you didn't listen. All you heard was, "we have someone on their way."

---------- 15 minutes later ---------

The police arrived, first one, then two, then came the ambulance. Thomas didn't say a word and neither did you. The EMT's took Thomas out to the ambulance, you followed slowly behind. Neighbors had emerged from their homes, they looked worried about Thomas. One neighbor, a girl who you'd spoken to a few times at barbecues and meet ups ran over to you. She had to be mid twenties. "What happened?" You didn't respond for a few moments.
"Just keep him in your thoughts or prayers or whatever." You felt numb all over. The cold air brushed through your hair and filled your lungs with oxygen once move. The police questioned you and the neighbors. After that the ambulance took you to the hospital with Thomas since you were his first emergency contact. His second was his now ex girlfriend.