Facebook. It's a social networking site used by millions. You, Dave Strider, are friends with a good number of people you go to school with, your brother, and a couple of other cool kids that you like to consider family.
You remember it like it was yesterday. You were bored, head in your hands, scrolling through tumblr, and you decided to check facebook. You go through your friend's friends, bored out of your mind, and you found him.
John Egbert. The dude who pretty much changed your entire life.
You had issues for a while, so many people at school giving you attention you never craved. it honestly frightened you, but you've grown accostumed to it. It's okay now, you guess. When you met john, you forgot about all of that. You just sort of…grew to love him and he's your best fucking friend ever.
John grew up with some problems too. Having an amazing dad who cooks well and does it constantly, john never turns down a chance to try at least one bite of his dad's cooking - which has earned him some extra weight that he hasn't had the motivation to rid. He hopes someday, when him and john get to meet, they can cuddle and go jogging together, and sing on the swing set at the park until they run out of breath.
Currently, you decide even though it's late, you'll hop on skype for a few minutes. to at least say goodnight to john.
You have about 8 different people messaging you.
'John's missing!'
'dude where are youdid you hear about john'
You start to panic. You message him right away.
He replies! Oh, goodness.
"dave, i just. no one likes me but you. i can't keep holding on. i…it's over."
Your heart stops. No.
"john you fucking listen to me now"
"what. what can you tell me that everyone else hasn't?"
You shake your head. You attempt to fight back the constantly flowing tears.
"you have done nothing but made my life one of the best things there ever was, you're my best friend and i can't lose you. and i know, since you're so upset, it means nothing. to you. or anyone. but john, i think i'm in love with you and whether or not you are too doesn't mean anything right now, just don't let yourself leave because people are talking shit! you can make it through this, please dude"
You're in tears, trying to wipe them away as you stare at your screen worriedly, begging whatever hope there is that he's going to reply and he's going to be okay.
He calls you.
You pick up instantly.
"John," you blurt out, choking back tears. "Don't do this, please. Please. Dude, I need you."
"Dave," He huffs. "I have a knife with me, it's right here, in my hand, I need to do it, I can't go on,"
"No!" You yell. You're sobbing and wincing and you're begging for him to be okay within moments because of how upset you are, and how upset the rest of your life would be without him. "We are going to fix every last fucking thing, don't you tell me otherwise! Don't let go on me, John!"
He hangs up.
You scream. As loud as you can. It's loud and piercing.
You can't handle what's happening. It can't be.
John's…dead.
He calls back.
Or is he?