Connors house is barley in my sight as I walk up the street. I'm overly worried about him - I haven't heard of him for the last few hours. I know I shouldn't be coming around, un announced, Ruby typically doesn't like it. Him being the type of Boyfriend he is put her needs before his own happiness. me and Mabel don't necessarily like it, most of the time he looks miserable when she cut's out on date nights - or leaves him standing by himself on special occasions.
me and Mabel are the ones to pick up the pieces.
I'm horrified at the idea he's breaking down, all by himself. he deserves more than what she can give him. But the only thing he can see is love. their is no talking sense into him. the only thing it causes is arguments.
We are the ones to blame. never Her.
I almost feel selfish for saying I hate her, that I despise her.
My nerves begin to jitter more as I walk up their steps. He's going to be okay. He has to be, he's Connor.
my heart slows as I push open the door, the wretched smell of sick hitting me up the face instantly. My brows pinch together as I walk over scattered cans, and broken, cold dripping bottles. This - was so unlike him.
I walk into the living room. My throat closing up as I see him. Laying on the ground - eyes wide. Void. As his chest barley rises. Barley falls.
I choke out a sob. Kicking away the scattering the clutter away from him. Power is caked just beside the arm rest. An overdose. My handles tremble as i put him on his side. Head rushing with every possibility. What the fuck do I do? What can I do to help him? All my answers come up short. I suck in a small breath. I leaned forward. Placing my fingers on his kneck, looking for a pulse. It was their, but becoming weaker each, horrid - breath.
What do I do? Come on. "Connor, can you - can you hear me?" I hiccup. Eyes darting over the weaping, beading sweat, sliding down off his forehead. His eyes slide down, threading to close.
"No, no, no. Keep your eyes open." I encourage. Cursing under my breath as I force his mouth open. Okay, air. He needs air.
Tears burn in my eyes. I can't loose the one man in my life who doesn't treat me like crap. Who doesn't look down on me. Me and Mabel can't be left alone in this fucked up, twisted down. His air ways don't look clear, so I do what I think will help. Praying for the best solution possible. I squeeze my eyes, pushing his head up. As I shove my fingers down his throat, feeling for the clumps of sick.
He splutters. Coughing, but still. Paling by the secound.
The nearest house phone, usually placed by the lamp. Gone. I curse. Grinding my Teath as I put him down on the floor. Chest compressions. I needed to keep his heart beating, hoping his brain has enough oxygen.
"Please don't leave me." I cry. Feeling my nose drip as I begin. My chest, burning. Arms aching. But I muscle through. "I can't go on without you." I whimper.
"But you can." I hear, I freeze. Its my voice. I'm going crazy. "You are Alive and he is dead." I murmer. "He's the one that deserves to live. Unlike you. He isn't a disgrace. He is the one that could have made a difference."
I scream. My voice turning horse as It strains. "No. He's alive. He's here." My voice croaks. "He's alive. He's alive." I chant. But his face, turning blue. Blue as if he's submerged in water.
The voice, my voice. Morphs into another. Mabels. But mabel shouldn't be hear. She was at her house. I had purposely left her behind. Hoping to prevent a fucking argument. But now I would much rather an argument rather then my bestfriend dead. He of all people deserves life.
"you couldn't save him back at the camp." Mabel whispered. "You can't save him now." She moans.
"What camp?" I snap. I'm loosing my fucking mind. And even that would be an understatement. A very. Big. Understatement.
"Always...the victim." She sneared. "Don't play fucking Dumb. You killed him. Your the reason he's dead." I could feel her face, pressed against the back of my head. Breath, fanning my ear. "He's the reason his body is at the bottom of the lake."
And now that I glance down. He's blue, only other colour is dried, red blood. Caked on his forehead. As his wet, body. Clothes clung to him.
I move away. Scream pushing passed my lips.
"No - no - no. -"
****
A hand wrapped around my forearm, shot me forward. Eyes wide as I glance around. Waiting to hear Mabels voice. To see Connors body. These dreams are getting worse. Day by day. It progresses. I can't even tell the difference now. What's real. What's fake.
"Get away from me." I shout. Shoving my Body away from him. Ankle, free from the Biting grip of the chain. My stomach pinches in pain. Protesting my movements. Begging me to lay back down. On my back. To relax. To allow it to rest. But I don't.
"You killed them." I pointed at his checkered, button up shirt. If he wanted me dead I would have been killed long before now. This - living on. Them dead. Is killing me. Tearing me apart. "You killed the only people who stood by me." I cried, his figure blurring. But he doesn't move. Doesn't reach. Just stands beside the bed.
"You killed the only people who never judged me for not drinking, for not smoking. The only people who protected me. Who were their." I lean forward. Hair, sticking down to my skin. The sweat, caking it. My period, always had made me emotional. Always had me speaking, doing things I wouldn't normally do. Though, sleeping helped. And - of course. Mabel and Connor always Helped. And with that reminder, I burst into even more tears.
I don't even realise Jason walk away, not until the rustle of the Hatch catches my ear.
Fuck this. I'm done waiting around for death. Waiting for him to give me food. Water. Like a fucking pet. I slid off the bed, eyes glancing around the area. I'm getting out. And I'm getting out today.
God knows what other types of traps and gadgets he has scattered around the woods. My mind flicks back to the bear traps, the rope. The bells. And with his tracking skills - ones only gathered from years of traking down animals. I'd be a pig to the slaughter.
But that's what I want. I want death. I can't live anymore. I can't handle the fucking dreams. The constant, hallucinations. I'm exhausted, I just want it all to stop.
The tunnel is long and narrow with wooden beams supporting it. Water, rhythmically drips as I attempt to keep a mental note of any ways out.
But I can't see any.
My limbs tense, my neck hairs rise as I hear the familiar thump of his arrival. He's back earlier then expected. My bad ankle throbs with the little Wright I apply down to the ground. But I ignore it. No more excuses. Everyone dies, it's just a matter of when, how and time. Mine, may be sooner. And I doubt Jason will be happy with my running away.
Especially with him leaving my ankle "unchained". A small sign of trust on his end, but that was his mistake. Not that it would have mattered. I would have dragged the chain.
Only a beat later do I hear the thunder of his feet slamming down on the dirty floor. I didn't move. It didn't matter. He would catch me regardless.
Jason predicadly is behind me. Large rough hand grabbing my shoulder. Turning me around, the air, damp and wet kissing against my already, wet cheeks.
I can't see his eyes, the only indicator to his emotions. His body language is always nearly the same. But, the more I stare the more his hands ball tighter into a fist. The more his chest rises and falls a little faster at a time.
"Kill me then." I begged. "Kill me. I can't handle the guilt of me being here and them gone." I fell to my knees. Just like I had done when I was outside, in the woods with Him yesterday.
His finger tilted my head up. Thumb rubbing my hot tears away. So softly, barley grazing it.
I hit at his chest. But he didn't flinch. Didn't attempt to stop me. He just allowed me to hit. Allowed me to scream.
I would never forgive him for this. For killing them. For tearing a piece of me apart. I'm seeing everything over and over in my head.
Seeing how easily Jason just ripped a piece of Lukes jaw off. How easily he threw Connor. How he cut through max like I cut through butter.
But, with gentle arms he scoops me up. Carrying me back into the well lit area. Placing me gently down on the bed. Patting my head. I can know see his eyes. I see something, something I can make out. And that's when he steps aside. Gathering wild flowers, tighed together with a thin, brown string.
I freeze. Looking at them. Well fuck.