It rained the day Sora died.
The day had started like any other; Roxas awoke to the blaring of his alarm, emerging bleary-eyed from the seductive warmth of his tangled sheets. Reaching toward the bedside table for his usual 'good morning' text, he noted with some alarm that he had 74 missed calls, all from the same number- Sora's house. He hastily hit the 'call' button, feeling more awake than he thought possible. When the line finally connected, it was to Sora's mother, her voice reed-thin and shaking with sobs. Her son had swallowed a cocktail of Zoloft, Xanax, and Vicodin, and washed it down with a fifth of Ketel One. It was sudden. No one expected the suicide- not even Roxas. After the call disconnected, Roxas stared numbly at the last text from Sora.
love you roxxxi!