A/N: So, wow, rereading this has made me realize why you guys all liked it so much. I've decided I have no choice but to finish this story! So yay. I hope that makes the followers as happy as it made me. I really am sorry for the abandonment. I'll do my best to finish it quickly and efficiently. Also, I'm thinking of changing my username to some variation of loving-him-was-red. Thoughts?
For a few days, I refused to leave my dorm room. The mere thought of the real world was enough to ruin me. I was falling back to that place of darkness and depression, where the monsters could get me so much easier.
Ralph came and went, between classes and maybe even developing some kind of social life. A few times, Simon stopped by to make sure I was still alive. But my dear Roger, my best friend in all the world, he never came at all. I wasn't sure if he cared or not, and I doubted I could make him listen. So my only option was to hide, hide and hope that one day soon the coast would clear.
I spent a lot of time mulling over old memories, trying to separate the real ones from the little fantasies living in the back of my mind. Trying to remember the way my heart had leapt when Roger had yanked me against him and kissed me that very first time. Or the way Ralph had always sort of lived in my head. Or the way I had the hardest time making sense of anything anymore.
When my door swung open on Saturday night, I was expecting to see Ralph, maybe coming in from dinner or something. I pushed myself up a little in bed, clutching my blankets around my waist. Everyone had sort of been under the impression that I was terribly ill, and in a way, I guess I was. I mean, why couldn't I just get on with my life? Why were those memories, those few wasted months, consuming me in such a way?
Anyway, I was expecting to see the familiar blonde strolling in. But not Simon, and certainly not with the terror that filled his eyes so. I couldn't remember the last time I'd seen him look so scared, his pale eyes wide with all this panic. I jolted up, my own expression mirroring his. "Simon? What's the matter?" Because there was so clearly something wrong.
The younger boy was panting for breath. "It's…Roger…" He managed. "He's…I mean, he…" And then he completely lost himself to tears. My own fears spiked; throwing back the covers I pushed past him and across the hall to my best friend's room. The door was unlocked, and a moment later I had barged in.
The coppery smell hit my nostrils long before I was composed enough to take in the scene. I'm pretty sure there were already tears welling up in the corners of my blue eyes, before I even made it far enough into the room to have any idea what was happening.
When I saw him there, it was like someone had taken a sledgehammer to the very foundations of my world. It was like being back on that island, only this was worse, because this wasn't just a memory now. This was really here, right before me, and oh, god, no.
I fell to the floor hard, crawling over to where my best friend lay. My shrieks and screams filled the room, or maybe only my head. I didn't care either way. I didn't care if the whole damn school heard me.
When I reached Roger's body, I pulled him up into my lap. His forearms were covered in a thousand little cuts and marks, all gushing blood from his delicate wrists. "Roger!" I shouted into his pale face. Grabbing his black hair roughly. "Roger, wake up! Fuck, Roger, please!"
He wasn't answering, wasn't showing any signs of waking up. No matter how many times I called out his name, how much of his blood coated my own flesh. Eventually someone came in, and they were pulling me away from him, gripping me tightly by the shoulder. "Jack," they were saying, but I didn't hear, didn't want to hear. They couldn't take me from him, not when he needed me. Oh, god, this was all my fault.
"Jack," the voice said again, and only then did I realize it was Ralph who was holding me. There were a few people from the administration there too, along with a couple paramedics. I spun around and buried myself against Ralph's chest. "Shh, Jack, it's going to be okay," Ralph murmured, holding me and gently stroking my hair. They were taking Roger away now, out of the room, leaving no sign of him but his unmade bed and the bloodstains on the carpet.
"Oh, god," I screeched, when at last the shock had worn off, and the tears were breaking free. What had I done, what had I done, this was my best friend and now I was watching him being taken away.
Ralph, amidst all my muttering, grabbed me by the chin, forcing me to look into his calm green eyes. "I know what you're doing," he said sternly, "and you need to stop it right now. This is not your fault."
"Of course it is!" I spat. "He…he was mad at me. I was the reason he was upset. I was the-"
"Stop," Ralph said again, cutting me off. "Come on, I'm taking you back to our room." I had no choice but to follow him back across the hall. Simon was gone now, so it was just me and Ralph and my racing thoughts. The blonde led me over to my bed, sitting down beside me. He never stopped touching me, never broke contact with me. And I was thinking of this one time, when we first crashed on the island, when we'd sat together on the beach and watched the sun rise. And how much everything had changed, but when it came down to it, things were all pretty much the same.