hotel suicide // 5sos au

17

I'm not dead.
I'm not dead.
I am NOT dead.

"Well have you ever thought it through on how you've never heard or felt your own heartbeat?"

I pursed my lips.

"Michael, i'm not dead I can't possibly be dea-"

"Just think it through, Luke. Think it through"

"No, it's not possible, I-I-I, i'm very much alive!"

He shook his head.

"Being in denial won't help you with anything"

"Well, show me."

"Show you what?"

"Show me that I really am dead."

.

"Ever wondered why you always ended up back in the hotel?"

"You could say that"

"Well, it's because you never really left"

I stopped in my tracks.

We were strolling around what used to be a grand hall filled with ruined paintings, that were very much praised back then in their original state.

"But i've gone outside plenty, the garden, the church-"

"Dear boy, memories and flashbacks you end up getting whisked in don't count"

I sighed.

"I know it's hard for you to get this to sink in....."

He takes my hand in his.

They don't slip through.

I don't feel warmth.

But comfort is somewhere in there.

"Look, i'm not here to hurt you."

I sighed.

"I'm just here to help you, and i'll be damned, I will if it's the last thing I do."

He looks at me.

I look at him back.

"Ready?"

I nodded slowly and reluctantly.

"Ready."

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