《Warnings: blood/guns/murder, major character death(s), poor thoughts of oneself, breaking down/panic attack?》
Wilbur felt awful pain in his chest, causing him to scream at how unexpected it was. Truthfully, he thought he was going to die. Wilbur put a hand where he felt the pain, adding pressure instinctively. His eyes grew impossibly wide as he could see the blood seeping through his sweater and fingers. And it hurt so so bad. Was he going to die? He didn't want to die.
Distantly, he heard yelling, and more bangs. Was that another gun bang? Or two? Maybe it was door? He wasn't sure. Wilbur's hearing seemed to fade out, and his eyes were fighting to stay open. He kinda didn't want them to stay open. The urge to just let himself go and shut his eyes was so strong, and sounded so peaceful. The awful pain in his chest seemed to be going away. Numb.
"-ey- k- -u- o-y-?" He heard someone say, but it was hard to hear. A pressure was on his chest, and he wasn't sure if it was helping or not. Wilbur didn't remember if he answered the person. Maybe this is what death was.
The world was fading faster, and he decided that it was okay.
He would have liked to say goodbye to Friend.
YOU ARE READING
What about the plans we made?
FanfictionWilbur just wishes for his family to come back, for him to wake up like it's a bad dream....too bad we don't all get what we want. -- And I'll be in denial for at least a little while What about the plans we made? <DISCONNECTED>
