Light My Way Back Home •Patrick Stump+Fall Out Boy•

Chapter Fifteen: I Haven't Found A Drop Of Water

||Cole Wentz|| First Person||

The radio is off the whole ride to my brother's house, where him, his two little boys, Chelsea, and Hayley are. Since Chicago isn't typically the place Hayley finds herself, she's decided that it's better to stay at someone's house rather than sit in a lonely hotel room, and that kind of makes me feel the slightest bit better because she won't be alone. But that also makes me want to puke at the same time because that also means that if I don't do what Derek wants me to do, he could harm not only Hayley, but my brother's family. I find myself pressed against the car door, gnawing at the black sleeves of my shirt. Patrick is holding onto the steering wheel tightly, but not so bad that his knuckles turn a sickening, pasty white. He glances at me every now and then, and I can feel my guts trying to project whatever is sitting on them up and onto the floor of the car. I don't like this feeling, this not nearly numb but not quite there persistence that has been biting and clawing at me since the dawn of Elisa's death. There's so much I wanted to say, to her, to her mother, to Patrick, to Katherine, but I couldn't do it. I can't speak past the lump in my throat because a thought dawns on me that maybe it'll be too late one day to tell Patrick what's going on. To tell him that Derek is out there and he's lurking in the shadows, and I get so easily terrified of my own, let alone the unknown. I have this urge to reach out for him and drown him in the sorrows plaguing and infesting my mind, beg him to break me free, but I can't.

I feel like utter crap.

I needed air, but I didn't want to leave. I let my trembling fingers dig under the window's latch. I unlock it and shakily pull it up, inhaling the fresh night air.

And then the voice came back. The same voice that used to attack me weeks ago. It slithers into my head, a faint whisper that makes me want to puke, but gives me so much comfort at the same time.

Jump.

Do it.

You'll be doing them a favour.

I couldn't be by myself when these thoughts came, I had that much sense about it. But at the same time, I felt so safe and vulnerable at the same time. How easy it could be to live in an eternal void of darkness. How easy it could be to swing my legs over the window sill and throw myself off. How easy it could be to not worry about the world of the living any longer.

Easy.

But I couldn't.

I reach up and slam the window down, working the latch into a locked position because I knew what would happen if I left it unlocked. I needed someone here with me, but at the same time, I wanted to be alone. By myself.

Patrick has a razor.

I cross over to the bathroom, my hand resting on the cool doorknob and twisting. I push the door open and walk into the cleanliness, knowing that it would all change. I pull up the tap to the bathtub, plugging the drain so the water would fill up. After that, I throw open the cabinet and search for something sharp- anything that would do the job. And then Patrick's razor.

I pop the shaving product open, pulling the blade out easily. I put his razor back into the cabinet, closing the door to it and putting it on the counter like it would break. I sit on the toilet seat lid, watching for what feels like eternity as the clear substance begins to rise higher and higher. I watch the ripples of the water and think about how pure it is right now.

Everything you're not, all because of Derek.

I slam the tap off, the pipes making a creaking sound by the violent gesture. I grab the blade and put one foot into the tub, and then the other. I sit in the scalding hot water in my pajamas, feeling all the more uncomfortable because of the wet fabric. I look at my wrist, the closed slits just taunting me.