I checked both ways to cross the street.
Safety first.
It was clear. So I thought.
It was painful and painless at the same time. I noticed someone get out of the car and rush over to my unmoving body. I need them to know that I'm here, but I can't move my body. I am stuck. I can see the so called darkness. It seems so inviting.
"SHIT, WAIT, THAT'S BRENDON! JOSH, YOU HIT MY BEST FRIEND!"
That voice sounds familiar.
"GO SEE IF SOMEONE THAT CAN HELP US!"
The same voice said. I heard steps run away and the voice started to speak.
"Brendon, buddy, please stay alive. For me, friend, please. Remember that sign we made when I tried to kill myself? I'll trace it on your arm if you can feel it."
A finger dragged over my are in a |-/ pattern. TYLER!
"BRENDON!" Another familiar voice said.
"Ok, the ambulance is on its way." A third not as familiar voice said. I felt my body be moved to someone else's lap.
"Baby...oh my god, you look almost dead. Please don't die, we have so much to live for. We are still teenagers, and I love you. I really love you."
I still can't move and I hear sirens wailing from not too far, but I can just feel myself slipping into the inviting darkness.
The question I asked myself on the first day we met was "Why are you talking to me?" And now I understand.
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Why are you talking to me? {FINISHED}
FanfictionBrendon Urie is your average aesthetic person, loves pastels, drinks Starbucks almost everyday, he is pretty popular. Dallon Weekes is a punk kid. He wears a lot of dark colors, and he is somewhat mute, only speaking when he has to, like during clas...
