A/N: Hello! Welcome and thanks for reading.

Obviously this story has TW: death, depression, thoughts/mentions of suicide.

2/15/22 I posted this story quite a bit ago and am cringing very. hard. at the writing economy and grammar stuff. I will update all the chatpers.


He was staring, watching me with his crystal blue eyes and I looked way, gazing at the landscape rushing past, feeling absolutely hopeless and crushed. It all came too fast.

Here in the car was too fast.

Like everything was fine and that me coming to live with him was just so cool. So normal.

I didn't realize I was shaking til' John put a hand on my leg.

"Hey." John said, "You okay Dave?"

I shook my head then began nodding as a single tear leaked down from under my lame stupid shades. He looked at me with sympathy. John unbuckled his seat-belt, scooted next to me, and gave me a reassuring hug.

"It's fine Dave." John whispered, "Don't worry."

He squeezed a little tighter, backed away, and pat my head.

I wanted to cry a little bit harder, his touch was one of comfort. The first touch from him that was meant to be reassuring. It was, I was just too sad to internalize it. My eyes watering betrayed the numbness I felt. I could hear shuffling of John getting back into his seat, buckling his seatbelt then cracking open his brick of a book.

He said, "We are going to be at my house in 20 minutes!"

I kept on looking at the scenery, tuning out the radio. His Dad was driving, but I could feel his deep fatherly concern. I wasn't just going to John's house to live there because he was my friend. I was going there because that Bro was...well...

...and that my Aunt was too drunk all of the time; my Uncle somewhere non-contactable in the middle of the jungle.

I bit my lip and tried to distract myself by looking at the passing landscape. It was different than my state's scene. It was more flourished and well? Honestly more alive.

Alive like I was.


Before I knew it, we were at his house, his Washington, far away from my state… It was sad to think that I was so far away from my house, or where I used to live. John got out of the car, and he looked at me with sympathy. Again…I frowned. I got out too and went to the car's trunk. Dad Egbert opened it.

I got my bag, sighing sadly.

This bag reminded me too much of Bro, the stickers and bent cover of the suitcase gave meaning to the luggage. John walked to his house and opened up the door for me to go inside first. They didn't lock it?

I nodded to him and gave him a weak smile, thinking lightly of how he was being such a gentleman today. I walked inside the house. First off, it smelled like cake. I would soon figure out what the cake smell entailed.

Looking around his house, I saw a fireplace, and a mantle with a picture of John's Nanna on it. Over to the right of the fireplace was these weird statues and some shelves. The stairs were on the other side of the room leading into a curved up way. To the left was a door probably leading to where the cake smell was the strongest.

I looked around, and looked at John. He looked worried for some reason, but he smiled, and said, "Uh- Dave we can go upstairs and put your stuff there…"

I nodded. I was being a cool guy. But actually, I felt like a broken guy. I cracked a smile at my own joke and John started up the stairs.

I followed John upstairs, and rounded the corner.

"Here is my room Dave!" John said as he presented it, waving his arms with enthusiasm.

It looked clean, and it had-

Oh god. John no- Why.

I took a few steps back from the doorway, and from the monster. My body trembled, I almost screamed and ran away from it. From...

"What Dave?" John asked in a puzzled voice.

"Those fricking Nic Cage posters dude…" I said and pointed at them.

I gave him a panicked look and backed away slowly from his room.

"Dave…" His excited hands fell.

"No." I shook my head, tore away from his room.

Out the front door, I was breathing hard and I knew I had to get away. Away where? ANYWHERE NOT HERE.

This life was not for me, I…. I took a deep breath to calm myself.

John came out the door I, in panic, slammed shut only seconds before.

"Hey….Dave? What's wrong?" He tried to gain his breath, "I mean…"

"No John." I stopped next to his mailbox and held my head.

"I'm sorry it's not the fucking amazing Nic Cage I just-" I took a deep breath in, "I can't-"

I burst into tears.

"I-Its just th-that's it's not my fucking room."

My hands flew around.

I took a deep breath, "and- and well- it's all gone to absOLUTE.

"FRICKING SHIT."

John was staring, his teal crystals dull.

I didn't feel like shining them.

His mouth was a little open. Then I took in what I did, said. I put a hand over my mouth because the last word...was a bit loud. I felt bad, horrible.

He opened his mouth.

"Are you going to throw up?" He asked me.

"No."

I removed my hand from my mouth, my stomach twisting. Maybe I was going to lose my meager lunch...maybe not; but it wouldn't matter since everything was shit. I knew at that moment that I was messed up and the real story of how the accident actually happened was messed up too. At that moment I didn't know it...but it was only a matter of time before the mail came.