Dave wakes up to the sound of an alarm in his room, and is destined to reel in John the second he awakes. It had been a week since he actually hanged out with him at Taco Bell, and that still wasn't enough for him. He is sick of being a loner, a nobody to the one he loves. He's been pushing his way toward John for years, but for some reason, he is repelled. Almost as if John wants him dead. But something tells Dave that's a lie, and that John cares. John is just hiding something. That had to be the truth.
It was now Saturday, and Dave had a chance to connect with John. It was around the hour of noon, and the sun dried up the window, and brought some light into the room, but still, the Washington air held a freezing grip around Dave's home. Dave pounded his feet onto the floor, and dragged himself towards his laptop, which was seated on his desk. He opens it, and to his surprise, John is online for the first time in 2 weeks. This was his chance.
- turntechGodhead[TG] began pestering ectoBiologist[EB] –
TG: hey john
TG: its been a while yo
TG: hows it going down at the john party
EB: ugh, not now.
TG: why not
TG: you never come on and when you do you end up ditching me
TG: whats wrong
EB: shut up.
EB: you wouldn't care anyway.
TG: yeah i would
EB: look, i'm only on to talk to jade and rose, not you.
TG: why not me
TG: what did I do
EB: everything.
EB: go away.
TG: i know your hiding something dude
TG: i can read your text loud and clear
TG: your almost hollering it to my face
TG: man youre bad at lying
TG: you need to stop hiding it
TG: fucking tell me whats going on
TG: please
EB: y'know what?
EB: how about you get the fuck out?
EB: im never going to tell you.
EB: why should I tell you anyway?
EB: you dont even know how to pronounce my last name right!
TG: what the shit are you talking about
TG: its almost as if you laid out the insanity is coming to town card right there
TG: of course i know your last name
EB: then why do you always say "egDERP" instead of "egBERT"?
TG: i was just poking fun at you
TG: geez
TG: moody today arent we
EB: idc
EB: its my life, not yours.
EB: so gtfo.
TG: ok asshole
TG: i fucking moved to washington JUST to be with you
TG: just to help you
TG: because ever since you turned 13
TG: i knew something was wrong
TG: i want the john I fell in love with back
-ectoBiologist[EB] ceased pestering turntechGodhead[TG]-
-ectoBiologist[EB] changed their mood to OFFLINE-
iOf course./i Dave thought, his eyes focused on the blue text. His heart felt weary and unstable now. It was pounding to the core—the blood it was producing was nothing but the pure stench of failure, and depression. John never told him anything; in fact, every time Dave tried to squeeze a bit of information out of him—John swiped Dave with a horrible stinging scar. It stung like the unwelcoming feeling in his heart.
Dave felt like John was right—that he was the problem, and that he should just disappear and move back to his home. John didn't need his comfort; he needed him gone. John didn't love him like Dave did. John hated him. At least, that's what Dave thought.
Dave spent the next hour going over the conversation, his mind set on finding any possible clue of what was going on in the blue text. Nothing, as far as Dave could see. All he saw were words directed to hurt Dave. That's all he could ever see in John's words now. He even forgot what John's kind words looked like. But, even so, Dave still loved John—because he knew that John really did like him.
...Or did he?
"Why did I go offline," John huffed, tears patting down his keyboard. "I screwed up again." John's hands shook, and his face was stained with red. He wanted to tell Dave, oh man did he ever. He wanted to tell him the stress he was going through and his mental break down issues, but he couldn't. Dave did care, he knew this, but Dave wouldn't believe him. He wouldn't think John was weaving a thread of truth—he would only think that John spoke such foolish lies to catch attention. But, in reality, he was facing insanity to a whole new level. He goes crazy every night, crying himself to sleep while staring at the blade.
A rope nearly holds him up every week. He is so stressed—so fearful. Ever since the incident involving the loss of his loved ones, he's been hanging over a thread. His medication may be keeping that thread's structure alive—but it could break any second now. He could break whenever he wanted to..
John grips his hands into a firm fist, and glares at the screen while his red-painted cheeks get drained away by the tears. His vision blurs, and thoughts of the loss of his mother and father fill his mind. After he lost them, abuse and horrors were the only things left for him in return.
The scattering of blood, and the organs being splashed onto his face while the killer forced him to eat the remains of his loved ones. John hadn't been the same since. Dave knew something was up—Dave knew he was breaking. The last structure of sanity was crumbling under John's feet, and Dave could hear the small mumbles for help—but he was always was pushed back when he tried to help.
Just the thought that Dave could find out John's true past made shivers crawl down John's body. His eyes dropped down; he couldn't stand to see the red text anymore. The boy was a stranger to him—but yet, John felt a strange urge toward him, but refused to fulfill that urge. The longer this urge was rejected—the harder it was for John to talk to the man who was investigating the crime scene.
His magnify-glass was all over John. Dave wanted truth; no lies. But, no matter how much he zoomed in on the small facts, he could never get a glimpse of the real issue.
Two sweaty palms approached a blue-eyed face, which was pail to the bone. Liquid emerged in the hands, and streamed down his neck. He hurt someone again; just like that night. He hurt someone he felt complete around. How could he do this?
His heart grew into a faster pace; and his forehead was drenched in sweat as he swallowed down the monster emerging within him. He knew it was crawling up his bones, and was aiming to clutch the last thread of his sanity.
A few words came out with a breath—barely even words, in fact. Mainly air exhaled from the boy. "I quit."
Dave slipped under his covers after a long day of thinking and regretting mistakes. The heat from the factory-made soft blanket comforted him. He would accept any kind of comfort at this point. He was desperate. His glasses flopped off his face quickly once he curled into a ball. He didn't even care about them, though. All he cared about were the tears emerging from his eyes. It was ever so rare that he broke into an emotional break-down, but when it did happen, no one ever knew.
His jeans rubbed against his cheeks that were somewhat wet, and thoughts of the past with John sprung into his mind. He dearly missed those moments more than anyone could imagine. He wanted to be best friends with him again, but no matter how hard he tried, he was rejected with a sharp slice into the heart.
He continued to think about the pain John brought him. He wept more, only thinking about how many times he's knocked to see if would be rejected or accepted—but only getting a door to the face. Anger is all Dave sees in John's eyes when he approaches him. Dave knew John wanted his horrid secrets to himself; but Dave wouldn't allow such a stupid mistake. John couldn't do this.
Suddenly, his eyes became wide open, and his body jolted into a standing formation. He knew what he had to do.
He picked up his shades, and placed them on his desk. He wouldn't be needing those things. All he needed to do was drive straight toward John's house, and give him more comfort than he could ever ask for. Laying down and feeling sorry for himself wasn't going to help the situation any better.
This had to be the only solution.