Anderperry Oneshots Collection

(If We Had) Five More Minutes

The only light source was the pale blue sunshine trickling in through the window. Todd never turned on the lights anymore. Or the radiator.

Especially not the radiator. 

For now, he huddled under his blanket. 

In the past week since Neil's death, Todd hadn't been able to find the motivation to get out of bed, much less leave the dorm. He waited until late at night to use the bathroom, so the risk of interacting with his peers was minimal. Charlie had been leaving meals at his door.

Todd was broken into a million pieces and sewn together with the finest thread. The slightest movement might shatter him again, so he didn't risk it. 

He spent the days staring across the room, his face planted on a tear-stained pillow. He stared at the stripped bed across from him.

A few days ago, Mr. Perry came into the room with a box. Upon entering, he saw Todd, wrapped in blankets, silent tears gathering in puddles. The two didn't speak, though there was a mutual understanding of pain. Wordlessly, Mr. Perry had undressed Neil's bed and cleared out his closet. He then packed all the belongings into the box and carried them out of the room.

On his way out, he placed a funeral card on Todd's desk. 

And just like that, any reminder of Neil was gone. Like he hadn't even existed in the first place. 

So for the last few days, Todd had been practicing staring. If he looked at Neil's side of the room, thought about it hard enough, maybe he could will Neil back into existence. 

Of course, it never worked. You can't wish away the past. 

It was during one of these staring contests that a bird crashed into the window.

Todd was startled and jumped at the noise. At first, he thought it might've been a snowball, but upon rolling out of bed, he could see a little robin laying in the courtyard. 

The poor thing looked young, its neck bent at an awkward angle as it twitched slightly, before lolling over, dead. 

Well, that was just the straw that broke the camel's back. 

A minor incident of sadness broke the damn, and whatever invisible thread had been holding Todd together fell apart all too quickly. He collapsed into messy sobs on the freezing floor because he still couldn't bring himself to turn on the damn radiator.

"Please," he prayed to no one in particular. "Just five more minutes with him. I need to see him one last time." It was one of those instances where Todd found himself wishing for the impossible.

The answer was a cruel and unforgiving silence. 

Todd felt the emptiness of the room weigh down on his chest. He gasped for air, but no matter how deeply he breathed it wasn't enough. Neil wasn't here. And he should be here. It didn't make sense for him not to be here. There was something fundamentally wrong in the universe and Todd couldn't make it right.

And it didn't matter if he prayed, or begged, or screamed until his throat bled crimson, the fact simply was that Neil wasn't coming back. So the wrongness would last forever, eating away at his heart.

Already Todd felt like a hollow shell of a human being, how far could he possibly be pushed before he couldn't handle it anymore? Until the darkness grew so constant that it turned warm and inviting, and beckoned him to join?

How long could Todd keep this up before opening up his wrists so they could bleed with his throat? Crimson to match that on the floor of Mr. Perry's office.