Four months ago, I was standing in the hallway just outside our flat, looking through my backpack and pockets for the keys to the front door. It's a habit of mine. Over and over again I have lost the the keys to my home. Dan has scolded me for it several times, but we always end up having a laugh.
I get tired of searching, and knock on the door thrice.
"Dan? I locked myself out again." I stifle a laugh. Dan won't be pleased about this, it's the third time this month. "Can you open the door?"
I stand there a moment, and after receiving no response, I knock again.
"Dan? You in there?" I call out again, a bit louder.
I knock again, then reach out for the door knob. I turn it, and the door creaks open. Duh Phil.
I stand in the doorway, and the apartment is oddly quieter than usual.
No sound of Dan yelling at the television because he dead at Skyrim. No sound of him dropping a butter knife in the middle of making a sandwich then cursing. And definitely no sound of his voice echoing through the hallway as he records a video due to us never got around to buying microphone.
Just dead silence.
The sound of my footsteps begin to travel across the apartment as I look around for Dan. I pass by the bathroom to see a light coming from the crack at the bottom of the door.
I knock on the door. I didn't want to invade his privacy, I just wanted to know he was okay. "Dan? You okay?" I ask, my ear pressed against the door. No reply.
Just before I knocked again, I hear Dan's voice respond with "I'm fine, Phil."
It was a completely normally reply, which I would have dismissed entirely, if I didn't listen to how he said it.
His voice was cold, frozen perhaps, and there was a tone in his voice suggesting that he was hiding something. Not something material, but something emotional. It sounded like he was in horrid, utter pain, but didn't want anyone realize it.
I've been his best friend for a long time now, of course I'd realize it.
"You sure you're okay in there?" I call out again.
"Just… go." I could feel he meant it. I understood that, so I turned and began to leave.
I didn't go that far, though.
A thud coming from the bathroom stop my pacing.
In no time, I was rushing back and banging on the door. Did he slip? Did he pass out? I had no time to think. I end up kicking the door open.
...
You know like in the Jason Bourne movies when something really intense is happening, like when someone is pointing a gun and intense music starts to play and when they finally shoot, the music stops and silence rolls in and it's all over?
It was something like that. But this is real life. It's was also kinda different.
Dan's body was laying on the floor, a sharpie in one hand, and an empty bottle pills not far from the other. And on both arms, you guessed it, cuts and scars lined up across it.
It kinda explains why he constantly wore sweaters and the middle of the summer. How he managed to act out happiness I'll never know.
How should I? I'll never get to ask him.
I drop to my knees. It's too late to call for and ambulance. He's dead. I touch his face. His skin was still soft.
I brush away some of the fringe from his face and shut his eyes. Now it looks like he's sleeping. Why don't I join him?
Before I get comfortable next to him, I turn to the mirror. The words I'm sorry were scrawled across it. Explains the sharpie.
I cradle myself next to him, his arms around me. I'm not crazy, no, I'm just awfully tired.
The funeral was quiet, and PJ took me home right after to prevent a unwanted condolences. And when I got home, the house was quiet. I don't like silence. It's really boring.
My friends, we are back to the present. Here we are, in the very bathroom where the only man I could bring myself to loved killed himself. Fancy that. And would you look at the mirror! The exact same words written. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.I'm actually not.
Friends, I have just swallowed a handful of pills and my heartbeat has slowed down so low I can't even feel it. And the pills? I had to fake a prescription to get them. They weren't cheap either.
Well, I can't stay for too long, I have to go meet Dan.
I hope he's waiting.
