Tears Thick Enough To Stain

Five

He was nearly gone now. He could feel it. His head was spinning, the scent of cologne and smoke and paint getting unbearably stronger, and Josh swayed slightly as his vision slipped in and out. He blinked but it seemed to take far too long, like it does when you’re really tired. He scooted forward a little and lay on the floor, on his side. A frown settled across his face as he begun to think who’d find him when he was surely gone. Quickly expelling those thoughts from his mind, he let his eyes flicker shut, his sight now blocked off. He wanted to blink his eyelids open again, but he couldn’t. It wasn’t physically possible. Then he noticed the strong odour of the room had disappeared, and all of a sudden he realised this was it and he was losing his senses one by one. Panic set in his veins, sudden regret flooding his brain as he shoved two fingers down his throat in an attempt to rid himself of some of those pills. It didn’t work. He didn’t have the energy to push hard enough. His whole body was just limp.

It was then he heard the muffled shouts of his name. Oh god, oh god, it was Matt. Matt was here. No, this was not right. He felt hands push him over, but it was no use. He was gone, quite gone, and he wishes it wasn’t Matt who had found him. He regretted it like fucking hell.