Warm Bodies (Herobrine X Entity303)

chapter 14 (CW)

(HUGE CONTENT WARNING: SUICIDE)

It didn't take long for him to fall asleep. I knew Herobrine to have quite a rigid daily routine, and with his body being used to falling asleep at the same time every night, I could count on the knowledge that he wouldn't be woken up by the sound of empty handcuffs rattling, or the sudden coldness of a second body leaving the bed, or the creaking of the floorboards. I didn't have any belongings with me, but I didn't need any for where I was going.

The cold air bit my skin, my teeth chattering and my body quivering, but I knew I'd be warm once I got running. I felt safe in the knowledge that once I was a certain distance from the house, the sound of me running wouldn't alert Herobrine, who wouldn't be too happy to learn I had escaped him too. Nevertheless, I had cleared his driveway and was into the forest. I was free.

I started running, my exposed legs wet with rain from that night, branches snagging my hair and scratching my arms, my lungs desperately pulling in heaves of chilled midnight air. I couldn't run for long, I was so tired, but my house wasn't far. I pondered on my secret lover again, the panic and regret when he realises I'm long gone, the desperate attempts to bring me back, to hold me in his arms when I'm still breathing and my heart still beats, the agony of losing another person close to him. My heart broke a little, the sadness in his eyes, the shock and the denial, all of the work he had put into me would be for nothing. Did he ever even like me? Did he truly care, or did he just have survivor's guilt? Does he want to be with me forever? It wouldn't matter soon, it never mattered. Nothing matters.

I made it. Standing knee deep in the long grass, panting and gasping, I looked up at my house. I thought I'd never see this place again. Catching my breath, I wandered up to the front porch and froze when the door handle began to turn. The door opened, and Null stood before me, their glowing eyes as disapproving as ever, tonight taking on an undertone of concern, as if they knew. They didn't hold their sign like they usually did, their worn old sign that would always lecture and chastise me, or warn me of things, or inform me about things. No sign, just Null. Wordlessly, they stepped aside to let me in. I didn't have anything to say, not tonight. My tired eyelids were circled by dark bags, and my hair hung in greasy ribbons around my sunken face. This was it, at last. The last time I would drag my aching body up this staircase, the last time I would look at the old sunset painting on the wall, the last time I would enter my bedroom.

Nothing had changed in here since the three weeks I had been away, everything was exactly how I had left it. With tears brimming at my eyelids, I fluttered my fingers across my bookcase, thick leather bound manuscripts and grimoires from centuries ago, now all forgotten. My clothes still lay sprawled across my floor, countless band tees and black sweaters, worn in rotation then discarded in heaps. My CD collection sat atop my desk, forever unorganised, now beginning to form a film of dust. My tiny busted old bed remained unmade and messy, a bed that had once been the rusted cage for my worst nights and the fluffy cloud for my best nights, containing the memories of the most beautiful pleasures and the most agonising sorrows.

Sitting in the folds of my patched up duvet, I picked up my sketchbook that sat on my bedside table, hot tears now rolling down my cheeks as I sobbed softly. All of my drawings perfectly preserved between sheets of thick artist's paper, sketches of Herobrine's glorious figure and his perfectly sculpted body, doodles of Null and their nagging, scribbles and scrawlings of all the worst things that ever happened to me scattered between paintings and renditions of the best moments of my life, a comprehensive guide to an entire lifetime. I found a complete drawing of Herobrine's face, frozen forever in time in an expression of joy, love, contentment, and peace, and I brought the sketchbook to my chest, clutching it as I cried. When this was over, all of this would be gone, and none of this would have ever mattered.

I stood from the spot I sat in and drifted over to the bathroom, where Null waited for me. This time was different, and they knew it. My other suicide attempts were messy and bloody and gorey and violent, yells and splashes of blood and water as I fought the hands that saved me. I think they knew as well as I did what had to be done. The two of us, Null and I, we both knew a time like this would come. Something life changing would happen that I couldn't ever come back from, that I could never recover from. There's anger, and sadness, and guilt, and pain, but this wasn't that. This was numb, and cold, this was it. A lot of people would be envious of their death being entirely in their control, but few people have the guts to do it. The tub was full, and the water was warm, beckoning me in.

The bathroom door remained open as I stepped into the tub, Herobrine's clothes still hanging loosely around my frail body. I would be cold soon, and still. This water would be red soon. Null sat beside the tub, and as we had planned previously, they were to stay with me until I went to sleep, to keep me calm, to document my last words and to make note of my dying wishes. We figured, suicide shouldn't be an option - it isn't an option - but if I'm so desperately hurting, and there's no way out, no fix for this, I should at least have a friend to carry me to the finish line. Maybe we were fucked up for that, but it's a nice sentiment.

Deep breath in, shaky sigh out. The blade pressed into my flesh. Count to three, deep breath in, another cut, and another. Close your eyes, count to ten, a deeper cut. Deep breaths, breathe in and breathe out, steady your hands, another cut, now slashes, stay calm. Don't die full of fear. Count to twenty, beginning to see stars now, count those. Close your eyes tighter, more gashes, more slices, you can smell the blood. The end is in sight, body cold, quivering, heart pounding, a tearing headache, pulse battering in your neck and your tongue, hands seizing, head hanging, eyes rolled back, forearm burning, opened to the bone, hot blood spilling over from the tub onto the floor, the end is in sight. Bang. The front door swings open.

"ENTITY!"