||Charlotte Robin Dun|| First Person||
Everything around me keeps going- the people and the cars and the world. Vaguely, I can hear the cars whipping by at top speed during their conquest to return home before it strikes two in the morning. To any other person, it's just a simple night, but tonight is the night my world stopped. The night Ryan Mistry died.
"Ryan," I feel gross right now. Snot is dribbling out of my nostrils and I can't be bothered to blow my nose. I simply drag my shirt sleeve across my face and try to calm the escape of tears, but it's a futile effort because the waterfall is pouring from my eyes unwillingly. "Ry, stop playing with me." He doesn't move. "I can't believe you, abandoning me like this. Wake up, Ry! WAKE UP!" His head is slumped on his shoulders, his bangs hanging in wavy clumps over his forehead swayed to the side, and his white shirt is drenched with blood that not enough towels in the world could stop the flow. "Wake up, man. This isn't funny." He was dead before he hit the ground, and I never could do a thing about it. "Don't, please. Don't leave me. Don't leave me alone, Ryan!" But even though I know he's gone, I know that Ryan Mistry has left me behind, I can't quite believe it. It's like...
When your eyes see something that your heart can't quite explain, your mind makes up a new history to make sense of it all.
And I can't allow this story to play out this way, I cant sit back and watch this happen through my half lidded eyes because Ryan is dead and I'm not.
I'm crying. You know this by now, but I'm sobbing so heavily that my heart feels like it might implode in my chest. It hurts, damn right, it hurts so much because this boy was alive five minutes ago and now he's not. Half an hour ago, Ryan and I were screaming at each other because I said that he was going to get himself killed for trying to help people. An hour ago, we were cuddled up against each other at the bar while sharing shots, laughing at how annoying Nick and Valerie can be. An hour ago he had the stars in his eyes and my world felt perfect. And hour ago, I was with my best friend, and he was alive. Fast forward all the way up to now, I'm on my knees, broken chunks of asphalt and concrete pressing pretty violently into them, sitting in front of his body. My dead best friend. Something lodges in my throat, staring at his lifeless body with the jagged, red stained shirt and the thin trail of the same substance leaking from his mouth.
He was really gone.
I know I need to get help. Right now, I need to get someone to come and help me because I can't help myself this time. I can't drag the two of us out of this mess by myself because I can't do everything on my own. No matter how much I try to convince everyone that I'm this tough, self sufficient person, I can't handle this. I can't do this. I can't do this. I can't do this.
My fingers are shaking with each tremor that my sobs evoke, reaching into my pocket and grabbing my phone. Through blurry eyes, I manage to unlock it and call my brother, because he knows what to do. Josh always knows what to do.
I press my phone to my ear and suck in a quivering breath, staring right at Ryan Mistry.
It seems so surreal. This whole turn of events doesn't seem right, because Ryan doesn't deserve any of this. He's just a regular 19 year old boy that deserves the world, who deserves anything and everything but this sort of fate. He doesn't deserve to be murdered this way because he couldn't help being so fucking stupid to get himself involved with Nick and Valerie's problems.
"Robin, where the heck are you?" Josh answers the second he picks up, and I can't blame him for being so hostile- I got up and ran so unexpectedly on them. "Are you... crying?"
"Help me," I sob in this guttural voice that clearly explains to him that something is very wrong. "Please, Josh."
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, I can't und-"
"He's dead, Josh!" I scream in a broken voice. "I can't do this, please, help me!"
"Where are you?" Josh demands in a frantic and urgent voice. The words get stuck in my throat and I'm choking on my sobs of terror and pain. I find myself croaking in fear, not being able to get the required sentence out. "Now, Robin." I answer him through a shattered tone, giving him the address of the intersection that Ryan and I had passed before ducking in between the alleyway between the smoke shop and the nail salon. I don't- I can't give Josh the exact details because I don't think I'm physically capable of saying that Ryan has left me to fend for myself in this cruel, malicious world.
"Please don't hang up, Josh." I plead with him, my head killing me and my eyes squeezed shut. I don't want to look anymore. I don't want to see what's left of him, because all it does is send another wave of reality crashing over me, and remembering that this is real and actually happening is the last thing I want happening. I want to live and hibernate in my little bubble of doubt and ignorance, pretending that none of this is real and that I'm not in an abandon alleyway at nearly two in the morning with Ryan's dark red blood staining my hands and my shirt. I want to live blissfully in unawareness because the lies my mind can weave is far better than the pages turning in my real life. "Don't."
"I'm right here, Robin." Josh tells me in a soft voice. "I'm on my way,"
"There's too much blood." I whisper, not daring to open my eyes and refresh the warped image of the four bullet holes protruding out of Ryan's scrawny chest. "It's everywhere."
"I'm almost there, sis," Josh insists, "I'm almost there."
I squeeze my eyes shut tighter, if physically possible, and wait for my brother to hurry up. I can hear vague shouting of familiar voices from afar, and they're getting louder and louder the closer they get to us. Or me, because I'm not sure if Ryan counts anymore. With a great deal of bravery and courage, I reopen my eyes and stare right at the lifeless form of Ryan Mistry. His eyes shut loosely and his lips are parted just the slightest bit, I Love You dying on his lips before he left me. Everything about this image is sad, far too distorted, and I'm sucking in shallow gasps of air because I'm panicking. "Get up, dumbass." I grit my teeth. "Stop acting, it's not funny." I know deep down that this is an unhealthy way to deal with my shock, but pretending that he's still alive in there hurts less. "Ryan." I poke his cheek lightly, imagining the two of us in his room on a Saturday morning, trying to wake him up and earning a good hearted groan of annoyance. But Ryan doesn't make that deep noise in the back of his throat, and he doesn't flinch from my touch because he's unable to. "RYAN!" I scream angrily at him, a new rush of tears overwhelming me and leaving me a sobbing mess. "WAKE THE FUCK UP! STOP MESSING WITH ME!" I'm yelling and pouting and crying angrily, pounding my fists against the rough brickwork of the wall, the skin breaking and bleeding.
"Robin!" I hear someone shout, and I'm praying to God that it's Ryan, but I know it's my big brother. "I'm here," he says breathlessly, making it to me and enveloping me in a hug. He tucks my face into his neck, pressing it there and not allowing me to look at the dead boy. I cry so heavily into my brother's shirt that I can barely hear him trying to calm me down with words, just about hearing sirens in the distance followed by nervous speech coming from two other people that I deduct to be Mark Eshelman and Tyler Joseph.
"Josh," I whisper in a shaking voice, "Josh, he's gone, isn't he?"
"I'm sorry, Robin." Josh says sincerely. "I'm so sorry."
"He left me." I say in shock, a breathless escape of realization. "He left me alone."
"Don't you dare leave me, sis." Josh demands through a quaking mouth. "I need you to stay with me, don't lose it."
"I'm trying," I say honestly.
"That's all I need from you." Josh whispers.
-/::\-
Ikr Im sorry about that(but I'm an evil author so not really)
-Stay Classy, Young Volcanoes
•LeaveNoWordsUnspoken