Style One-Shots (Discontinued)

'~The Last Goodbye~' {Angst}

Included: Angst
Triggers: Blood, SH, Suicide, Scars, Blades, Death

Summary: Stan and Kyle had parted ways after 8th grade due to rumors and a desire to grow popular from Stan. Kyle had fallen into a deep depression by losing his best friend since kindergarten and tried to focus on his health and grades, but couldn't take it anymore and revealed something to Stan he couldn't hide before something happened.

(3RD LIMITED POV)

It was April 26th, 4:34 PM after school and Kyle was resting on his bed in a fetal position, staring blankly at his phone hovering beside his face, tears pricking the edges of his eyes as he sniffled. Today was another one of those days, and it hurt. Kyle flinched and was sent spiraling out of his trance like state and weakly brought an arm up to wipe his eyes, dampening his sleeve. He swallowed a lump he never knew he had and slowly arose from his bed, sitting on the edge of it, making it dip and creak. He looked around his room and his eyes fixated on a razor which gleamed light.

It's only been 2 days. His wrists are still sore. Yet, he subconsciously got up and traced his finger on the sharp metal edge as he took it off his desk. A warm salty tear streaked down his tear stained face and hung off the edge of his jawline. Kyle rolled up his sleeve and placed the tip of the razor to his skin and took a deep breath.

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He dropped the blade and fell to his knees. It didn't help take the mental pain away. Nothing did anymore. He stared at his scarred arm with new fresh bloody cuts and pulled his sleeve down. His phone dinged in the background. His eyes fixed on it. He crawled and picked the phone up, turning the screen to face him.

'Just another text from my little brother.'

He thought and sighed, drops still pouring out his eyes like faucets that needed to be shut. He exited out of his little brother's contact and stared at Stan's, forgetting he had it starred from years back. He blankly gazed at it before slowly clicking open the contact and scrolling through their old messages.

The more he scrolled, the more his heart ached, the more his brain felt overwhelmed, the more his cuts stung, the more tears flowed out. His brain went into overdrive and he began to sob loudly.

"I can't do this anymore. I just can't..."

He whispered to himself as he grabbed his phone and stood up, his legs heavy yet flimsy like noodles, his vision glossy from how much he cried, his arms feeling like bees stung him and there were multiple paper cuts along his soft skin, as well as his heart feeling crushed. He wobbled his way to the garage and opened the cabinet, looking around until he pulled out heavy duty rope. He shut the doors and went back inside, down to the basement where he tied it on a metal pole in the roof.

'May as well tell him...'

Kyle thought as he shakily turned his phone back on, punching in the pin and going back to their texts. He slowly began to type.

(Me)
<Stan. I know we aren't on good terms anymore, I know we aren't how we used to be, I know you don't want to see me anymore, but I just wanted to tell you how much I loved you. I never told you in 4th grade because I knew you'd never feel the same, but I'm glad you were in my life as long as you were. You were an amazing best friend. I'm sorry I failed you. At least I won't be here to ruin your reputation anymore. Goodbye, Stan.>

Kyle finished typing and powered his phone off, placed it down and grabbed a chair, right by the loop of the rope and stood on it. He inhaled one more time as he placed his head through it and kicked the chair away as he immediately struggled to breath.


(Stan's POV) *I hate doing 1st POV*

It was 5:51 PM, finally a Friday which meant I didn't have any dumb work to do when my phone made a ding sound. Ever since I grew popular, it was common, but this was the special sound I made for K. He hadn't texted me in a long time since I publicly humiliated him a few years back. I let go of my computer mouse and yanked my phone up to stare at the message.

(Kyle 💚)
<Stan. I know we aren't on good terms anymore, I know we aren't how we used to be, I know you don't want to see me anymore, but I just wanted to tell you how much I loved you. I never told you in 4th grade because I knew you'd never feel the same, but I'm glad you were in my life as long as you were. You were an amazing best friend. I'm sorry I failed you. At least I won't be here to ruin your reputation anymore. Goodbye, Stan.>

As my eyes read each line, my heart race increased by two totally different things. My breathing got heavy as my eyes brimmed with tears. I quickly stuffed my phone in my pocket and ran to get my shoes. I sprinted down the stairs, my heels thumping against the edges of each step and quickly twist my body towards the direction of my door, where my stuff usually lays.