RAP

Sorry to all you folks out there who have been reading The Girl I Never Had. I had a serious case of writer's block and when I finally got over it, school started back up so I was too busy to write. But never fear! I'm currently writing the next chapter for it…

But anywho, while I was writing the new chapter – this little thingamabob latched into my brain. I guess it was because I was watching The Virgin Suicides while writing…

I'm not sure if I'm going to keep this a oneshot or make a story out of it. Anyway, let the angst beginnn:

xxxxxxx

RAP

RAP

RAP

"…" I slowly opened one eye. Someone was knocking on the door.

Someone.

I didn't give a fuck.

It's hard to believe we've made it this far… seems like yesterday I was annoying Perry and watching Sanford and Son with Turk…Being mothered by Carla. She doesn't do that anymore. And laughing at the neurotic mess that is Elliot. She's far worse than neurotic now…

RAP

RAP

RAP

I wish they'd go away. They're disturbing our sleep.

I glanced over at Perry. His eyes were parted, and beneath his lids I could see haunting eyes… Eyes of death. Glazed over. His mouth was twitching slightly. High. High as a kite. Up in the clouds. I wish I could see what Perry's seeing right now…That would make everything better.

Beside him was Carla, crying her sad little eyes out. Don't cry, Carla. You're supposed to protect me.

Death would've been better.

RAP

RAP

RAP

My eyes fell onto the window. The rain pattered and cascaded down the glass. My vision grew hazy, unfocused.

All I could see was my reflection, screaming at me. Telling me how stupid I am, and how I had caused this.

Death… It consumes, surrounds us. What is death? Surely it's a blessing.

My mind whirled in thought at what could possibly come after death. My eyes raised up to the ceiling, like the old JD used to do while daydreaming… but I didn't daydream anymore… it was just a memory.

People crying. Death. Sadness. Why…?

"There's nothing we can do. Arrange for a funeral." How rude. Perry was on his knees, tears spouting into his hands that acted as basins.

"IT'S ALL MY FAULT!!" He cried, and slammed his fist into a wall. Immediately I heard the crack and Perry howling. His fingers were shattered. I stared at him, stoned out of his mind.

"You're damn right it is." Said a ghost-like figure. Only Carla. The color was drained from her face, like always. She sported bags under her eyes, and fresh bruises on her arms.

I wanted to scream and tear my hair out. No matter how much Perry tried to take all the blame, I knew it was partially my fault too.

I looked into the hospital room next to us.

Turk… the white sheets really didn't look good against his skin. His heart monitor was beeping happily, while we were in pain. He was completely oblivious to what was going on… and I was jealous.

I looked back into the hospital room that Perry was in. He was sprawled on the floor, cradling his mutilated hand as he shook. As if he was cold… He kept saying "no" over and over and looking back up at the hospital bed where the dead lay.

Death is funny.

It takes those who are kind-hearted, and leaves the psychos and rapists.

The world is a fucked up place to be.

RAP

RAP

RAP

Voices…

"Open up! Police!"

I frowned. Can't they just go away?

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As I said, I'm still not sure if I want to keep this a oneshot or continue it. What do you think I should do?

I know that if I turn it into a story, I'm going to go back to a year or so earlier when none of this was going on… and slowly progress to this moment. I might possibly go farther than this moment… I don't know. And also, if I continue it's going to be VERY disturbing and there's going to be slash. But yeah, R&R and tell me what you think.