The Surface

Chapter 7

~Image not mine~

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Sixteen years old. Nico spent his birthday bleeding out in his bathtub. Hopefully the cuts wouldn't heal, hopefully, they wouldn't heal...

A bloody birthday, a bloody reminder. Yet not a death sentence.

Maybe next year.

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Seventeen years old... It was in the dead of night, it was the minute he turned seventeen, it was exactly midnight. As the clocks rang out through the house, he kicked that chair out from underneath him.

As the darkness swarmed around him, as he finally experienced dying, all he could think about was how the beam had actually held him. Maybe he was light enough, after all. Maybe something good finally came out of not eating. Maybe it was fate.

He thought he was supposed to die that day. He thought he was doing the world a favor. But as he soon learned, it was just the opposite.

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Nico finally opened his eyes from the darkness that had consumed in. He could see his body, hanging above him, as pale as ever. He couldn't feel any pain, didn't feel hungry, didn't feel scared. As he laid on that attic floor, he finally felt at peace.

For the time being, at least.

"I actually did it..." Nico felt himself smile for the first time in years. "I'm free...I'm free!"

He ran downstairs as fast as he could, making no noise in the creaky house. When he got to the front door, he went to run out of the house without a glance back. But before he could step outside, an invisible barrier seemed to stop him. No matter how hard he tried, no matter how much energy he put into it, he couldn't leave the house.

Couldn't leave...

"No!" Nico fought harder, fought as hard as he possibly could. "Let me out! Let me go! Please!"

Silent screams that went unheard. Nothing stirred, nothing registered that he was there. Deep down inside, Nico didn't even know if he was real. Not anymore.

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It was the day after he had died when he realized that he had made a mistake, that he realized that he should have kept living. In the early hours of the morning, his father's friend came over. He brought his son, a boy that Nico was instantly attracted to. William Solace, his name was. Will... Suddenly, Nico had a crush. A crush that might have been possible if he was still alive.

He stalked Will everytime he entered the house. When their fathers were talking, when he was alone, when he wandered the hallways upstairs. He watched him break down, watched him admit to himself that he was gay. Nico wanted to comfort him, wanted to scream "me too!", but couldn't be noticed by Will no matter how hard he tried.

Maybe if he had just stayed alive...

Why were there so many maybes? Maybe he should have thought a little harder before making that decision, maybe he should have tried harder. Maybe he could have snuck out. Maybe he could have lived. Maybe he could have ended up with Will Solace.

But he had spoiled that the moment he decided to die.

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A couple years after he died, Nico could move things. He drove his father crazy but soon got sick of it. His father was horrible. Every minute of every day. Never did he get better. It was in anger that Nico snapped, in anger that he picked that knife up and stabbed it through his father's chest. The poor man didn't see it coming, nor did he live long enough to figure out what happened. He died in that kitchen, his blood seeping into everything around him. And for the first time, Nico was truly alone. No one left in the house, no one to bother or talk to.

He was all alone.

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AN: Hope you all liked it though it was short. Another installment in the series will be up tomorrow: The Surface's Holes. It deals with when Hazel and Frank first died and their relationship with Nico but may be as short as this one, we'll see