Chapter 15

... Breathe ...

Hanson quickened his pace as he approached his home; he walked with his hands in his pockets clutching its contents, shoulders hunched over and head bowed against the wind. To an outsider he might have looked to be protecting himself from the cold, but it was summer and the breeze was warm. So one would say he was acting strangely, like he was in a rush or on edge about something.

Tom was done with today, done with everything, done thinking and done feeling. He finally reached his room and locked his door behind him, his usually agile fingers struggling to turn the lock. He dumped the contents of his pocket onto his bedside and then climbed onto his bed without taking his eyes away from it. He sat perched on his knees and he felt a wave of nervous anticipation. He hastily took off his jacket, letting slide off his back and fall onto the bed behind him. He pulled open his draw pushed his neatly folded socks aside to grab what he was looking for.

He knew what people would think, what they would say if they knew, if they found out. 'Poor Tommy, still struggling to move on. He was too young when his Father was taken from him. He is smart and strong but he will never know how to be a real man, he has had no one to teach him. He has let his grief ruin him, he has let himself become too soft and vulnerable. He's pathetic. And selfish. Turing to this! Did he even think about his Mother?'

'They don't know me' he thought 'and I don't care what they think, they expect too much of me, think that because I'm me I can deal with anything. They're wrong I'm just as, if not more hopeless then them'. His vision became unclear as he tilted his head forward allowing the forming tears to escape his eyes. He was done tying to live up to others expectations of him. "Fuck them all," he said to the empty room. They don't have to live inside my head every day. They have no right to judge.

He decided to dismiss any negative thoughts as he reminded himself that he was done thinking, he wasn't going to let anything ruin this for him. He returned his attention back to the items in front of him and continued from where he was before he was rudely interrupted by his thoughts. He tied the fabric that he had fished out of his drawer around his arm with the help of his teeth and drained the liquid from the vile he had been clutching in his pocket earlier into a clean syringe. 'Finally' he thought, ready to embrace the moment.

He heard knocking. "Tom, are you in there?" Came a voice from the other side of Tom's bedroom door. 'Shit' was the only coherent thought Tom could form.

"No Doug, don't, don't come in," his voice was as shaky as his nerve.

"What is it Tom, let me in and we can talk about it," Tom looked from the wonderful liquid in his hands that would take all his pain away, to his closed door.

"Just go away," Doug was really worried now, there was something distant in Hanson's voice. Penhall banged on the door more desperately.

"Why have you locked yourself in your room," Tom knew this was it, he was going to be found out. Everyone would soon know how utterly pathetic he was. "Let me in or ill break your door down!" Doug screamed.

"Fuck off Doug!" he shouted back pathetically.

Tom was distraught. He knew it was too late to try and hide the evidence and besides even though he was terrified of being caught he was even more terrified of not getting to feel that relief. Tom took a deep breath as he tried to steady his hand. 'Come on!' he said unable to get control over his nerves.

At that moment Doug broke through his door. His eyes widened in shock and fear as he realised what was happening. "Tom, no, don't!" was all he could manage as he stumbled towards his partner, their eyes meeting.

Tom detested the pitying way his friend was looking at him, that was it, he had had enough. He stared back unblinking as he injected his arm with his poison of choice. He felt the tension he had been carrying immediately fade away. He laid back onto his bed, sick smile plastered on his face. Nothing could touch him, he felt safe, he had really missed this feeling.

"Tom?! What the fuck have you done! You idiot!" he had finally closed the distance between himself and Tom. He grabbed his friend's shoulders and shook them angrily. "You fucking idiot!" He screamed before he stopped, taken aback by the looseness of his partner's shoulders and the quietness of the room apart from his own breath. Suddenly all his anger dissolved and fear took over; it paralysed his body and his thoughts. He felt like he couldn't breathe.

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