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Chapter 4: Tell 911. They Give You A Mysterious Phone Number

Those words were a slap to Tom and Matt's face. They weren't thinking straight. Their emotions were mixed.

First it was pure devastation... then confusion, blame, hurt... everything just felt so dizzying. Tears fell down Matt's cheeks. "W-What else...?" Matt's voice cracked.

"... Depression..." Edd confessed, he didn't even bother to hide it anymore. What was the point? They were bound to find out.

That broke Tom's and Matt's hearts even more. They've been with Edd for as long as they could remember. This kind of news? They feared it in their nightmares.

Tom clenched his teeth. "I bet it's that that stupid commie's fault!" He growled, the boiling hate he had for 'that stupid commie' arose.

In a short span of only 6 months, the 'stupid commie' had betrayed them, destroyed their home, and killed their neighbor. Within those 6 months, Matt and Tom assumed this is where the anxiety and depression grew.

Don't know who this guy is? His name is Tord Hansen. A guy that they assumed was dead, or if he was alive, severely injured.

It had been 6 months since the 'incident'. They call it that so they don't have to ever recall that day.

What was the 'incident'? The 'incident' was the day Tord, their old roommate, the one who lived with them and for no reason mysteriously moved out, stepped foot in their house at the beginning at those 6 months. Of course, being old buddies with Edd and Matt, Tord had no problem being welcomed. Tom, on the other hand, moved out because of the distaste he had for Tord for years.

No one would've suspected that Tord was evil.

In the very short span Tord was there, he had really changed. He just came back for an invention he forgot when he moved out. What was it? A giant freaking robot.

He destroyed the house they used to live in, murdered their neighbor Jon, and as if karma didn't work its job fast enough, Tom shot a harpoon through the robot, making it explode.

Luckily for them, Matt and Edd were able to live in Tom's place until they found a home where they could stay in. But everything was even harder.

Edd was swarmed with bills after the 'incident'. He had to pay for the damage, he had to pay for Jon's funeral, he had to pay a fine for disorderly conduct, he had to pay for rent and houses, and he had to pay for furniture since everything they owned was destroyed. It was no question why Edd wasn't getting enough sleep. But why is he feeling this way? The Brit gulped. "Yes..."

Tom slammed his fist against the table, clenching his teeth. "That damn commie! I knew he was bad news, I knew he didn't come back to have fun again, I knew I should've taken better care for you guys..." Tears glistened down his cheeks. "Damn it... why couldn't I protect you... I-I tried..."

Matt chuckled. "Don't blame yourself, Tom. I was too stupid, too naive... I shouldn't have let him hurt us..."

Tears were waterfalls at this point. Tears could've flooded the place if they hadn't continuously wiping them. Edd shared his thoughts of giving up on his life, how he didn't feel like he could trust anyone, the questions constantly filling up his head, never ceasing to invade into his mind. Tord made him feel that way. Matt shared his everlasting guilt. He shared that he had been given the temptation of making lines on himself, overlapping with the constant worry and fret every time he thought about the 'incident'. Tord made him feel that way. Tom told them about the self-hate he had for himself, the feeling that he couldn't protect anyone he cared about never seemed to go away. Tord made him feel that way.

After what seemed like hours of talking about their thoughts, feelings, and reasonings, they came to the agreement that they may have to get therapy.

Tom dialed 911, not sure who else to call in this situation. He heard a few beeps for a few seconds, and then a voice. "Hello, you have called 911. What is your emergency?" A feminine voice said from the other line.

Trying to find his courage, trying to find his voice, Tom forgot what he was doing for a moment. Why was he doing this? Where was he? Who are these people around him? "Hello?" The voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

The Brit jumped, he was not breathing properly. C'mon, just say something. Tom told himself, gripping his pants tightly. "We have an emergency. My friends and I have been dealing with mental issues and we were wondering if there's any way we can... get some help."

It went silent for a minute. Maybe the receptionist was thinking of what to say. Maybe she was trying to remember what she was supposed to say since this probably happened a lot. The lady coughed. "You and your friends are strong for reaching out for help. I know it must be difficult to stay strong." Not really, Tom grumbled within his mind. "But if you're looking for some help, we recommend you to call the Red Hotline."

"The Red Hotline?"

"Yes. The Red Hotline is connected to an organization who helps with mental health issues. It has been London's most exponential mental health care provider within the last six months, and the therapists there are extremely empathetic and experienced what you've been through. Would you like to give them a try?"

"I-I guess... anything would be fine."

"Alright then. I will connect your call with them right now."

Tom looked at his two friends, smiling at them as if saying it'll get better soon. Matt and Edd smiled back. The line buzzed. And buzzed. And buzzed. Until moments later, a dude's voice now rung through the line. All three held the breath.

"Hello there! This is the Red Hotline. How can we be of service today?"