Disclaimer; I totally own this. (: However, I do not own the world it's set in nor do I own the books that spawned my writing fetish... I own my copies... But not the rights.

Life is not a spark in space
an episode of willandgrace
controversial yet mundane
Debris messing with your brain

You Could Do Better – Say Anything

You think your life is damn perfect and wonderful, that nothing could ever go wrong when you're with her. Your hands are permanently together, bodies pressed against each other as your breathing accelerates and your twin heartbeat beats too loud in your ears. That is until the day you leave her alone for the first time, stepping out into the harsh glare of the outside world. All you wanted was a bag of fricking apples and look where it got you. You're barely out of the greengrocers when your phone beeps familiarly, vibrating against your thigh and sending little chills of excited pleasure through you as you anticipate finding out who it is that is messaging you.

Even though you already know. She's the only one on earth with your number, and she will always be the only one on earth with your number.

You pull out your phone, cupping the top with one hand and shielding it from the light so you can see the little dark screen clearer. The words blur slightly, she's always telling you to get contacts, but do you listen to what she says? On the surface, yes; but you should read between the lines, baby.

You're too caught up in your "perfect" little world that you don't see the pain in her eyes, you don't question why she stared into space before asking if you would go buy her some apples.

She hates apples, as you should know. Maybe you did know and chose to ignore the heavy, damp worry in your stomach. Keep calm and carry on is what you always say to yourself, but you never say that to her when she looks down. Then again, you never notice when she's down.

You read the message twice, then a few times more; trying to make sense of her words.

"I've seen too much." you snort at that part, she's always saying some stupid babble about how she's seen too much and knows too much, even though since you've known her she hasn't left the house once. "He's coming for me, I can sense it." The text is littered with spelling mistakes as she typed as fast as she could, fingers glazing the buttons but she didn't care. She had to do this quickly so she could grab the Prozac. Please explain to me why you never questioned the fact that your girlfriend takes Tricyclic antidepressants. Or maybe she just never mentioned it.

Guess what, they're highly toxic if you overdose. Overdose means death if you don't get help, and I don't think what she is about to do is an accident.

"Byebye."She puts at the end of the message, and you begin to run, why are you running? Human nature and hunches are telling you that something bad is happening and you have to stop it.

You eventually reach your apartment block, sprinting up the stairs and thanking the rush of adrenalin in your system that allowed you to run all the way home then up three flights of stairs. You slam into the door, twisting the handle and sending it flying open. It crashes into the wall but you hardly notice that. You're too preoccupied by the sound of slurred speech coming from the bathroom. You try to get through the door, she's locked it, you start screaming and all you get in reply is a quiet chuckle, and a smash.

Everything is silent, she is silent, you are silent, the whole damn world seems to have gone silent. Then music starts up, your phone vibrating in your pocket.

You numbly read the message, same number as always. Sent from two hours ago but you never got it.

I'm scared that I'm going to do something stupid. Call me.

You didn't call, she's dead.

Proud of yourself, Matt, proud of yourself?

So tell me what you thought, too overdone? did it suck? your reviews are appreciated, people. (:

Edited by the LOVELY TotallyGaga. (: