Built From Ash - Sequel to Burned Out

Chapter 1: The Letter

    Skeppy felt like his heart had been torn out of his chest and thrown on the ground, only to be trampled by a crowd of people who couldn't even see it.

    He felt like he was a small bird trying to fly in a hurricane.

    He felt lost with no one to find him.

    Everyone told him to go to therapy or see a psychiatrist, because surely seeing your best friend murder two people would give you some sort of mental disorder. Right?

    But he didn't need to pay someone to tell him what he already knew. He was messed up. Badly.

    He had barely eaten or slept since it happened, the food had no taste and sleeping only brought him nightmares. He hadn't once thought of making a video to break it to their fans.

    a6d had tweeted about it, letting people know, which caused thousands of sympathy tweets to come flooding into Skeppy's timeline. He appreciated everyone's "we understand that you need a break", and "we hope Bad is okay", but they just made everything worse.

    They just reminded him of everything he had lost when he found Bad with that knife in his hand. When he was about to plunge it into SapNap's heart and take yet another pointless life.

    The blood. That was what stuck with him the most from that day. How Dream and George's bodies were soaked in their own blood. How Bad even had their blood covering himself. How the stench of blood was all he could smell for hours after he left.

   And he couldn't stomach the fact that he'd never again see Dream, George, or Bad. He'd never hear their sweet laughs or stupid jokes. He'd never see them dominating in a game of bedwars or slaughtering each other in a manhunt. Maybe slaughter wasn't the best word to use at the moment.

    He shuddered at the thought that what had happened was sort of like a real life manhunt. Except this time Dream hadn't won.

    He tried taking deep breaths and imagining something that made him calm, like he had read online, but the only thing that had made him calm was Bad. And that just brought his thoughts full circle again.

    There was a letter sitting on his bedside table, it was addressed to him from Clarke County Psychiatric Asylum and written in Bad's handwriting. He hadn't been able to muster up the courage to open it yet.

    He was afraid if he read it he would burst into tears again. He hadn't cried in a day or so, but he feared that it was because he simply had no tears left.

     He had to fight to tear his eyes away from the letter. But they kept going back to it.

You have to read it eventually, he thought.

    He started reaching for it, pulled his hand back again, and finally snatched it from the table.

    The paper was slightly crumpled, and crinkled in his hands. The logo, a building with a flag soaring above it and the words "Clarke County Psychiatric Asylum" written in a circle around it, stared up at him.

    He kept remembering the last time he'd seen Bad. It was probably the last time he'd ever see him. The thought made him choke.

    He slipped his shaking fingers under the flap on the envelope, ripping the sealed paper. Slowly, he pulled out the actual letter, which turned out to be two long pages of writing in Bad's neat, small script.

    Bracing himself, he began reading.

Dear Skeppy,

I'm so sorry for what I've done. I've ruined my life and hurt so many people around me and I will never be able to do anything about it. I know I've hurt you and I'm so so sorry. You deserve an explanation. Something to tell a6d. Something to tell the fans. Well I'll tell you what the doctors say and what really happened. They say I have an identity disorder. DID or something like that. But I don't believe it, if I had that wouldn't I have more than one alternate personality? They said I had schizophrenia at first, but since I have complete memory of everything that happened they changed their minds. I know I must be crazy, it's the only explanation that makes sense, but it sure doesn't feel like it. It genuinely feels like another person controlling me. I would never do what Good did to Dream and George. Anyway this is what happened: I'd been having panic attacks for a while. Stupid stupid thoughts that would fill my mind until I was stuck just crying. One night after one of the attacks this voice spoke to me. He told me his name was GoodBoyHalo, but to call him Good. He kept telling me he was the only person who understood and loved me, which I realize was all a trick now. Well, I tried to, ack this is hard to tell you but here goes nothing. I tried to kill myself. But Good saved me. He stopped me from hurting myself. And, I mean, if he was a bad person why would he stop me, you know? But it made me trust him more and I guess I let him start actually controlling my actions because I thought he could save me.. from... myself. I know it's stupid, but it made sense at the time. Well that fight we had, me, you, a6d, that was him. I wanted him to stop but he wouldn't listen and it just made me feel worse and I kind of gave up. And I'm sorry for that. He planned the meeting with them, and then he-

    There was a tear in the page here, where it seemed the pen had torn through the paper, and the words were much harder to read, as if Bad had been shaking when he wrote it.

    -he killed them. I'm so so sorry now they're gone and I can't ever fixed that and  I ruined so many lives and they were so young they had lives and they're gone and I'm so so so sorry.

    Skeppy felt fresh, hot tears running down his face and choked back a sob, forcing himself to keep reading.

    I can't ask you to forgive me. I know it's impossible, but I just hope you can understand, at least a little, if not completely. And I hope it's okay if I keep sending letters. I get one a week, they can't even give me the pen because they think it's too dangerous for me to keep. But, Skeppy, don't shut down. They told me that I should be doing that right now. Because of the deaths. But for some reason I'm not. Just please keep living your life, try to be happy. I really do love you, and I'll always be your best friend if you want me.
             -Sincerely, Bad

    His head spun and he fell onto his bed, wondering when he had stood up. He felt like there was an empty hole in the middle of him, the edges ragged and burning away at him. Was this what Bad had meant about shutting down? The way he had unconsciously crumpled the letter to his chest, trying to hold himself together so the hole didn't destroy him? The way he was shaking and couldn't stop and all he wanted to do was have everything go away?

    He couldn't feel the tears anymore, though the letter in his hands were damp with them. And he felt crazy. Crazy that he believed every single word that Bad had said.

    But in his heart, Skeppy knew that Bad wasn't a liar, that he truly believed what he said. And Skeppy couldn't think that it was Bad that killed his friends. Maybe it was a way of coping with it, but if there was a way where it wasn't Bad who did it, Skeppy would believe.

    And all he could think was:

    "I will always forgive you"

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A/N: So yes. It has been forever. Buttt I'm back! Yay! Hopefully I'll stay committed, you know what I'll make myself a promise; I'll publish a new chapter at least once a week, possibly more. Well I hope there are some people that enjoy this and uh yeah, let me know what you thought of the first chapter!

Chapter word count: 1402 words