The girl next door, - ᴛ.ᴋᴀᴜʟɪᴛᴢ

Chapter thirty-nine.

• NEED 2 - PINEGROVE

»-☠︎︎-+>

1:27A.M.

It was late.

I'd fallen asleep, almost peacefully. Tom and Bill hadn't returned, so the house was completely silent. But the streets werent.

As cars sped by and made burnouts, I immediately flinched awake, panting or just sobbing in shock. This had been happening for almost two weeks. In general, any tire movements or any slowed cars made me nervous. But the burnouts, the fucking burnouts. I'd always duck down and cover my ears as if anything would change.

God, I missed him so much.

I slowly got out of bed, going towards the window and holding onto the sill as I watched a few drunken teenage boys drive their car up and down the streets at an unbelievable speed.

I closed the window, backing away and crawling back into bed. I was stiff, still feeling the tension linger in my body and my heart thud. I breathed slowly, regaining my composure as I looked around for my phone, but only spotted Tom's.

He must've taken mine.

I twitched slightly, wiping my tears and rolling onto my back as I stared up at the ceiling. My eyes forced shut, and I tried to put myself back to sleep.

But it didn't work. So I got out of bed again, grabbed Tom's headphones, and pulling them on.

I shouldn't have nagged Seb to go home.

Now I'm alone.

Tom and I never really got along. We were more fuck buddies than friends. If I wanted something more, it'd be ruined easily because I pushed his limits, or locked myself away every time anything made me feel incomplete. And I did want something more, but I don't think he did.

Bill has other stuff to worry about. He doesn't worry about me now that I push him and Tom away. Only because sometimes it feels like they want to understand, but I don't even understand myself.

Mario wasn't himself anymore without his best friend. He was incomplete. He'd always been. That's why he was a self-harmer, why he was an addict.

My dad is a pedophile and junkie who I hadn't seen since I was a child until he randomly popped into my life, demanding whatever he wanted to prove off of Seb. Now that his "only" son was dead, he just became more useless.

My mum never wanted me in the first place. If she did, it was for the dole.

Sebastian fell through a life of drugs and addiction, then died after we argued. And I didn't even listen to what he tried to say to me.

Vince never wanted anything to do with us.

I never got to really talk to my sister and have a bond before she also died.

Perrine and Nora haven't talked to me in a while, and I was sure they were getting sick of my on-and-off bullshit.

I didn't even know myself properly.

I was so alone.

And it was the worst feeling I'd ever felt. Because I knew if I tried to leave or just give up, Tom or Bill, Perrine or Nora, would feel what it felt like to be alone. And it was coming to that now. I was sick of disappointing everybody around me.

I was being punished. And I didn't even know why.

»-☠︎︎-+>

☠︎︎ 𝚃𝙾𝙼'𝚂 𝙿𝙾𝚅

I could feel Mandy's phone buzz in my hand while I packed up my guitar, and once I flipped it open I noticed it was my contact.

"Mandy?" I questioned, stepping back and holding the phone to my ear. I could hear her quiet sobbing, before she finally spoke up.

"Tom, I'm so lonely." She whispered.

"I'll be home soon, alright?" I re-assured her.

"Can you please come home soon?" She murmured, almost breathlessly.

"Yeah, why, you okay?"

"I'm fine."

☠︎︎ 𝙼𝙰𝙽𝙳𝚈'𝚂 𝙿𝙾𝚅

When the line went dead, I set the phone down on the bathroom floor, and looked down at the blood surrounding me, leaking out of my wrists and seeping into each crevice of the floor tiles. There was so much.

I rested back, glancing at the empty bottle of pain killers on the counter before my eyes drifted up to splatters of blood even on the ceiling.

When I needed people the most, they were never here. But maybe I had more people waiting for me up there than down here. That was always how it worked.

Because the people I loved most always left. Always disappeared, or died.

Guilt was such a selfish feeling. And so was grief. It was a silent killer that I'd been struggling with for too long now.

This wasn't a suicide. It was a cry for help.

2:13A.M.

»-☠︎︎-+>

☠︎︎ 𝚃𝙾𝙼'𝚂 𝙿𝙾𝚅

I headed inside beside Bill, glancing around for any sign of Mandy as I walked into my room.

The bed was empty, including the room. I set down my guitar case, rubbing the back of my neck. "Mandy?" I murmured, going out of my room and watching Bill peek into his room. "Nope," he shook his head.

My eyes drifted to the kitchen, before flickering to the bathroom door. It was closed over, and there was no sound whatsoever. "Hey, you in there?" I murmured, carefully opening the door before my expression shifted immediately at the sight of her sitting in a pool of her own blood, her wrists gushing and producing it non-stop.

"Oh, fuck-- gr-grab some fucking towels or something!" I snapped, watching Bill back into the door before quickly leaving to do as told. I tossed the blade away, feeling her blood seep into my jeans as I got on my knees beside her. It was everywhere; so much blood.

"Mandy? hey, hey it's okay, it's all good," I stammered, watching her sob quietly as her whole body trembled uneasily. Bill returned with cloths and towels, immediately handing them to me as I grabbed them off of him and wrapped them around her wrists. "Call 112," I looked at Bill, handing him Mandy's phone.

"Hello?" Bill said shakily once he dialed in the number. "It's-- it's my friend, she's bleeding badly, we need help." He huffed. "Tom, is she on anything?! Medications, drugs?" Bill called out. "Tom!" He shouted.

I was in complete panic. The blood flow wouldn't stop, and my own hands were trembling with my clothes soaked in the reminder of the moment.

Fuck.