I miss you

I am going to you

He couldn't do it

No, you need to do it. You deserve it, you idiot

He put his hands against his face. He was sitting at the edge of the bathtub, the water running a little colder than lukewarm. It was almost full. He stared at the small waves that rippled across the surface, then turned the water off.

Why did he have to do it?

What do you mean, why? Because you deserve it. Don't you want to see him again? Don't you want to be with him again?

Charles put his hands down shakily and turned to his left. There were two razor blades on the edge of the tub next to him, new and unused. He remembered pulling them out of the package just an hour earlier. Those 60 minutes felt like an eternity. He couldn't even remember how old he was anymore.

Just looking at the blades reminded him of the first time he took one to his wrist. It was the day after Jules his funeral. He felt the same as he did that day, the same hopelessness, the same grief and anger.

Today was no different then that day,

What are you waiting for?

He wasn't sure. Maybe it was the little bit of his subconscious screaming at him to stop, to drain the bathtub, trow away the razors. But that part of his head was so far away now. The only thing he could hear were the demons telling him to end it al.

They were sol oud. They never stopped talking. They never stopped whispering to him that he should throw everything away and give in to the darkness.

Go on, call him.

He gulped. His phone was on the counter top, waiting for him to pick it up. He reached over to grab it, noticing the notifications that pulsed on the screen. Carefully he punched in a phone number, a nmber he had memorized a year ago. He put it to his ear and waited.

It only took two rings for him to pick up.

"Charles?"

"Hey, Max"

"What is going on? Why are you calling so late?"

He sounded tired, his voice had a sultry rumble to it.

"I am going to be away for a while"

He paused. He didn't want to alarm Max, but he wanted him to know. He wanted Max to be the last voice he'd hear.

"What are you talking about?"

"I am going away Max"

"Charles? What the fuck is going on?"

Charles started to cry, at first softly, then loudly. His tears disrupted the water, and his cries betrayed his true intentions.

"Jesus, Charles, wait there for me okay? I'll be richt over. Just... don't do anything stupid"

"I have to do it Max. They're telling me if I do, i'll get to see him again"

"Who, Jules? Charles, please, just wait until I get there, okay?"

"I'm sorry, Max."

He hung up. It felt cruel hanging up on him, especially considering the circumstances. He felt empty.

Good. Now, finish the job.

But Max wanted him to wait. Maybe if he stalled-

Do it now! Do you want to see him? You don't deserve to see Max. He never really cared about you anyway.

... Of course not. Why would Max care about someone as insignificant as Charles?

Charles put his phone down on the floor. He slipped into the tub, clothes and all, grabbing a razor blade from the edge. Sitting in the water was calming for him. It almost convinced Charles to stay alive.