The Cicada

Euthanasia Makes Me Cry

I swallow nervously, mustering up the courage to speak between voice cracks and sniffles. "Hey Tord...I uh...I need help."

Tord's tense for a moment. He seems to notice me staring, and pulls his nightgown back over his shoulder. He squints at me, before relaxing a little. "Obviously. Come on." He turns and beckons me inside.

I follow him.

Tord turns, "jenta mi, det var bare en lyd. Du kan gå tilbake til sengs nå." he says to someone over his shoulder."

A voice calls from behind him, sounding very soft and nervous. "Lover du, pappa?"

He nods, smiling. "I promise."

I hear  pattering along a wooden floor as I step inside, and I see a faint blur run up the stairs. "So...." I swallow nervously, standing up a bit straighter as I frown a bit, puffing out my chest. "Long time no see, huh?" I'm so tough.

Tord laughs, shaking his head with a tsk tsk tsk. "Just come inside, Thomas." His accent is much stronger now, more thick and husky. It almost sends a shiver of fear down into my stomach.

I fucked up. Mannnn I fucked up.

"Yeah, alright."

I am so fucked. 

Tord stares intensely at me. "So, how'd you find me? Figures, soon as I'm back here one of you guys come and see me." He chuckles a little, going into the kitchen. "And jeez, Its been, what? Six years now? Time flies, huh? You look--" He pauses, staring at me. He never spoke much before, he seems like he's trying to make this less awkward, that or he's been so lonely lately he word-vomits at the first person he sees. Both of which are fair options. He shifts around nervously, almost frozen with shock (fear?). 

I then remember that I'm quite literally covered in blood. I hold up my hands in defense quickly. "W-Wait-!" I sniffle, going to wipe my eyes. I'm still crying too??

Tord stares at me. "Thomas..." his voice is flat, no tone whatsoever. He sounds almost robotic. "Thomas, what did you do?"

I open my mouth, looking down at my clothes. My blue hoodie now stained with Jon's blood. Jon... I blink away tears that prick at my eyes. I think back to Edd and Matt. So much shit had happened, and I used them as personal fucking therapists and punching bags. We barely talk. This is my one chance and I need to make this right. I sigh, my breath shaky. "Tord... I know things have been strained between us, to say the least. And the- the cops and the owner--I just- I need your help."

Tord crosses his arms, his brow raised. "And?"

I stare at him. "...and...?"

Tord sighs, huffing. "Tom, you show up here covered in blood--and by the looks of you, I'm not one hundred percent sure its all yours--and you just expect me to help you? Just like that? After everything?"

"You can't act all high and mighty either!" I quickly say in retortion. 

Tord scoffs. "Oh yeah? Why can't I?"

"Dude you literally hit me with your car???" 

Tord pauses. "...Yeah...alright that's fair." He opens a drawer and takes out a first aid kit. "We've never gotten along, why start now? Why see me?"

I stay quiet. 

"Tom if you want me to help, I'm gonna need answers. What about Edd and Matt?"

"They're off living somewhere with their cats. We don't--we haven't talked much."

"...Ah. I see. However, I'd like an apology."

"For what??" I groan, rather annoyed at the senseless Scandinavian. 

"Tom, I tried to reach out and say we're friends countless times--and every time you pushed me away. Even called me an asshole. I don't want to waist my time on you. On us. You have to prove to me that us being friends is actually worth it. That I shouldn't just kick you out right now and leave you high and dry." 

I sigh, my black eyes looking to meet his stormy grey ones. I'd always thought they seemed so out of character on him. They stuck out like a sore thumb, but even now, they gave me immense comfort at just the simplest of looks. "Tord I'm sorry," I began. "I should've been more open, I should've reached out to you when you did to me."

"You should've tried to reach out even before then, too." Tord says matter-of-factly.

 I nod, sighing. Admitting defeat in this argument. "I should've. It was dumb of me not to."

Tord nods smugly, putting an ice pack on the bruise on my head. "It was. Very dumb." 

"Yes. Very dumb. And I-I want to apologize for all the pain I've caused you, Tord. It was all my fault. We were so close before, fuck, you were my best friend. I never meant to hurt you. I know I've so many stupid  mistakes, and I'm willing to do whatever it takes to make things right between us. So please, Tord," I say, tilting my head and looking at him with pleading eyes. "Give me another chance. I won't fuck it up this time, I swear."

Tord smiles. "Thomas, I know things have been tough. For both of us. And I know you've made mistakes. We all do. But what's important is that we learn from them and try to be better. I'll support you, no matter what. You don't have to struggle alone. Shit happens, like whatever happened to you tonight. But you have a place here for as long as you need."

I nod, soon wincing as Tord begins to clean my head wound. "Stay still."

"Tord it stings." 

"It'll sting more if you keep moving!"

I groan and let him address my wounds, my mood growing worse as time passes. He's dead. You caused this. He's dead because of you. I shake away the thoughts, holding my head in my hands. 

Tord frowns. "Whoa- are you okay? Tom you look really pale."

I shiver, bracing myself against the kitchen counter. I hold my head, trying to blink away the migraine that suddenly has my head aching and throbbing in pain. I look at Tord, my vision blurring. "...Tord I don't--I don't feel good..." 

The last thing I remember is my vision growing black, and Tord's frantic voice growing softer and softer before I was out. 

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wrote this the same day as chapter 1 im so tired anyways gnight fellas 

also tom passes out so much like if it was a drinking game youd die probably