Randy silently leaned against his bathroom sink, nearly slumped over, deep in thought for a long while, before quietly sighing and standing up straight.
He was more then ready for what he was about to do.
He grabbed two bottles from the cabinet, one of which was his schizophrenia medication, the other, was a small bottle of sleeping pills.
He had somewhat of a plan for what he was going to do... how he'd leave not only the world behind, but also his cruel family that never wanted him.
He would say he'd also leave behind friends, but... he didn't have any. Didn't have any friends for years since nobody wanted him to have that, either...
He walked into the kitchen with both bottles in hand, setting them down on the table before grabbing a small sheet of paper and a pencil, taking a few minutes to write something down.
Something for Samson... the only person he was starting to consider as a friend in a long time.
Randy slowly sat on the cold floor of his kitchen with both pill bottles in hand, dropping the now folded peice of paper on the floor before setting both bottles down beside him.
His breath began shaking, and so did his body as he opened the first bottle and brought it up to his mouth, stopped for a second, before swallowing nearly every pill in the bottle. His reflexes were trying to make him instantly cough it all out, but he didn't.
He wouldn't let himself cough it up...
Because he really didn't, and never did, matter to anyone.
His body began shaking even more as he dropped the bottle with a few pills still inside to the ground, grabbing the other bottle with his shaking hand, and opening it.
He quietly glanced inside of it, checking to see how many pills were inside it. It was about halfway full... about enough... He let out a barely audible sigh, before bringing the bottle to his mouth and swallowed every pill he could, before dropping the bottle on the tile floor and sitting huddled up in the corner.
He quietly sat in the corner of his kitchen, curled up into a ball, starting to cry as he slowly tried to remember one good thing from his life... no matter how far back in his memory he looked, he couldn't really remember any happy memories.... except one...
One where his grandfather watched him for the day, and got to go fishing with him... he remembered that day fondly... they took a small rowboat down a river, try and catch some fish while joking around with each other about silly things...
A small smile appeared on Randy's face, tears streaming down as he remembered that. His eyes widened once he remembered something else... he reached into his pocket, and got out a pocket knife... his grandfather's fishing knife... the only thing from his family he even bothered to keep...
A small chuckle left his throat, coughing a bit as he did so, tears still streaming down his face... God, he was such a mess... why did he even have a life...?
His vision cleared up a bit when he looked at the bead bracelet around his wrist... he made one just like it for Samson a while ago as a "friendship gift", he called it...
After a few minutes of doing nothing but sitting on the floor and reflecting on his life as he cried... he became tired... so, so tired, as his vision slowly faded to black...
He quietly leaned his head against the wall.
"I'll... see you on the other side, Sam... I'll see you on the other side...."
*****
Samson quietly stared up at the rope that was now tied to his ceiling.
He had... planned this for a while... longer then he'd ever admit to anyone...
He would either die from one of two things; the rope itself, or the blood he'd lost from the self inflicted across his arms. The blood running down his arms was slowly coming to a stop as his body was trying to heal said wounds...
He quietly grabbed a piece of paper and a pencil, trying the best he could to write down what he needed to write as his vision was starting to get blurry, taking a few minutes to write it down...
Something for Randy... his friend. The friend he'd meet on the other side...
With his vision slowly fading, slipping in and out of consciousness, he stumbled to where the rope was hanging, where a stepping stool was...
Samson's breath and body began shaking with unease as he slowly stepped on the stool, giving himself a boost. His heartbeat got faster, his hands began to shake more then ever, and tears began to well up in his eyes as he grabbed the part of the rope that was meant to go around his neck...
"I- I'll.... I'll see you on the other side, Randy... I'll see you on the other side...."
Still shaking, with tears streaming down his face, he put his head through the loop of the rope, before kicking away the stool below him in a swift motion.
For a few seconds of absolute agony, he panicked, regretting this, wanting to get out and convince Randy to not do this, his arms hurt, he couldn't feel anything, he couldn't breathe, he couldn't get out, before...
Everything, very slowly, faded to absolute darkness as he went limp...
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I am truly sorry you had to read that... I really am.
I'll, uh... put a funny video to hopefully make you feel better... hopefully...
YOU ARE READING
Trapped Souls (Yet ANOTHER nes Godzilla Creepypasta AU)
Fanfiction(I'm not 100% completely sure how to write characters with schizophrenia and depression, so some pointers on that would be helpful. Super helpful. Also, disclaimer- this story involves suicide. If you or someone that you know is suicidal, I urge you...
