Will Newman's last days FIVE FEET APART

Inside Will's Mind Part 2

Hiii so I'd kinda taken a break on this fic (and all of my others, I've barely written anything in like, 3 days) bc I've not been able to stay away from a reddie fic. It's the best fanfiction I've EVER read. It seems straight out of the IT book. It's called mixtapes. Check it out if u wanna. But anyways. I'm back now, with this format of a chapter that u seemed to like last time I wrote in it, so... I hope u enjoy? And if u don't, I'm sorry, but it's what the story needed to move forward.

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My eyes fluttered open at the loud sound that invaded my previously peaceful room.

My mother had been the one to disturb that peace, tripping over a chair in her way in.

She looked awful. Greasy, messy hair, faded makeup, baggy clothes. Guess she wasn't taking the news of her son's imminent death too well.

But then again, who would?

To be fair, my death had always been pretty much on the radar. I had been born with a deadly disease, after all. But it had never felt so... Real. So... Close.

I'd thought about dying so much in my life, up to the point where it was part of my life, but now... It had somehow turned itself into a stranger.

A stranger who was running towards me while my feet were cemented to the floor. Dressed in a black cape, it's hand reaching for my neck, squeezing (literally) the life outta me.

Soon enough it's grip would become strong enough to clot my blood, pop my arteries, break my spine.

And then... I'd be dead. Gone. Poof. Black.

It felt as if this exact conversation had already taken place in my head recently, maybe during my sleep.

Im on so many drugs right now, that I'm not truly sure when I'm awake and when I'm not.

Well, no. That's not entirely true. Whenever I talked to Stella, or had her as near me as possible, I knew it was real.

I dreamt about her all the time, so that could've confused me, but in my fantasies she's always touching me. I'm touching her.

Our lips crash together, my tongue slides it's way slowly into her mouth, and she allows it, pleased. She rubs hers on my teeth, and whispers to me how much she loves me between gasps and moans when I'm kissing her jaw or sucking on her beck's skin.

We never really... did it in my dreams. I felt as if had to ask her permission to dream about her that way, and it'd be really weird to ask someone of you can have sexual fantasies about them.

I couldn't ask her in my dreams either, as that would just be my mind answering, and it'd say yes right away, but leaving me with a foul taste.

So no, I did not dream about sex with her, but I did let my mind wonder on all the rest of the things I would've liked to do with her.

We went to Paris, took a picture with the Eiffel Tower, to Spain, visited Burgos, where Atapuerca is, the largest, most important archeological site in Europe, where they found the oldest, most complete human skull ever to be discovered.

She'd get into archeology and architecture with me on those trips.

We'd visit England, make fun of the way British people talk....

Wed also just go outside. Run. Jump. Climb mountains. Ice skate. Go to carnivals...

Maybe get married. Have a kid. Two. It didn't matter, as long as it was with her by my side.

So in reality, I'd already grown old. Lived my life. All in my head, but still.

My hair was grayish, almost white, thanks to the wig I was wearing. It got out of place all the time from laying my head in the pillow, but I surely didn't care.

It itched quite a lot, though. It could be uncomfortable. But I didn't dare move to set it in place. Everyone thought I was asleep.

And I planned on keeping it that way. I wanted to REALLY observe them one last time before I ran out of time.

My mom. Tired. Not really connected to me. Worried. Looking her worst. But still beautiful.

Barb. Sad. She's seen this so many times before, yet she never grows accustomed to it. I love her.

Stella. Young. Beautiful. Not as skinny as before, thank God, but still really thin. Her hair fell in that wavy texture I love so much, like caramel dripping down her shoulders.

She's perfect. I'd do anything fore her as she'd do for me.

Wait. Wait! There was a way to beat the stranger in the black cape. To go before he decided me to.

To be the one to choose when I was meant to take my last breath.

Stella wouldn't like it, but I knew it was the only way.

I was gonna ask her to kill me.