end of the line. || [j.m.k]

five.

what about me?

(word count; 2.0k)

he's been laying in his bed for hours.

he doesn't want to move, or think, or breathe.

or do anything, really.

looking out the window of his bedroom, he lets out a slow, shaky breath. he's been in here for three hours. he hasn't moved from his fetal position on the bed.

he slowly rises to sit up, letting his eyes follow a leaf in the wind.

you should go out there.

he swallows hard.

let them in.

he takes a deep breath, slowly walking to the door; his hand brushes against the cold brass, and he flinches.

if you open this door, you have to let them help you.

he pulls his hand away again, taking a slow, steadying breath.

breathe through it.

he turns the handle, his grip tightening.

you have to let them help you.

the door opens, and the cool air of the hallway greets him.

if they're still here.

the house is quiet. he turns his gaze to the hallway.

would they leave?

he steps onto the soft wood flooring, the cold stinging his feet.

i hope not.

he steps into the wide open area of the living room to see sam sitting on the couch, curled into a ball.

jake sits on the opposite end.

josh can't bring himself to say anything. he stands there, staring, heart on the floor. he stares at the back of his twin's head, trying to think of something to say.

are you ready to let them in?

he's not.

are they ready to hear what you're going through?

they never will be.

he rubs the bridge of his nose and gives out a sigh.

it's quiet, but enough to catch jake's attention.

when his twin turns around in his seat to face him, josh wants to run.

you don't want to know what's in here.

you don't want to know what it's like.

he doesn't, though. he carefully makes his way to a chair opposite the couch.

sam is awake now, sitting up.

there's an anxious silence between the three of them.

the look on sam's face catches his attention.

it's gut wrenching, and it hurts so bad. it makes him feel physically ill.

i did this to you.

josh turns his attention to the floor.

"i just wanted to say i'm sorry."

his voice comes out small. he sounds broken, worn-down, tired.

defeated.

there's a hitch in sam's breathing, and when josh looks over, sam looks distraught.

"i don't want you to be sorry. i don't want you to apologize," sam says, wiping tears from his face.