*trigger warning*
*Troye's POV*
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It's been 3 months. And I still find it hard to breathe. Hard to live. Since the day he told me I wasn't good enough. He said he loved me, and I feel for it. If he loved me, why would he leave me? Why would Connor leave me?
6 a.m. Another terrible Monday to start another terrible week. I clench my fists and roll over to pound on my phone until the alarm shuts off. With only 15 minutes to spare, I throw myself on the floor and attempt to get up without crying. I jump in the shower and wash off. After throwing on a pair of destroyed light-wash skinny jeans and an old, baggy hunter green jumper, I don't bother with my curly, out-of-control fringe. I run down the stairs and before I can get out the door my mom yells:
"Troye! Aren't you going to eat something?"
"No. Sorry mom I have to go. See you after work."
"Okay. I love you- have a good day."
"Love you too. See ya."
When I plop myself in the drivers seat of my sleek, black BMW, I lean my forehead on the steering wheel and watch the raindrops hit the windshield. I've always been one of the "popular kids" at school. I guess if you get to stand at "the wall", which is literally just a wall, you're considered more important than everyone else. I never understood it myself but whatever. That's where all my friends are, but also where Connor is. So I just spend my days alone now. The closer I get to school, the more I debate whether or not I should go. Regretfully, I drive into the parking lot and walk into school. The moment I step in, I realize I can't do it. I never want to go to school, but today feels different. I stare at the ground and drag my feet to the furthest bathroom. I let the door slam behind me and fall against the wall, hitting the floor. No one is in here. "Thank god" I mumble under my breath. 10 minutes into thought and 10 minutes late for class, I break down. Why? Why did he do this? What am I? Angry? Angry because it's my fault? No. I can't. I can't do this. My thoughts are everywhere and I don't know what to do. There's so much pain. And it's impossible not to notice. It never stops. I throw my arms backwards and smash my fists into the rock-hard wall. Then I sling my body forward, hitting myself against the floor. I stand up and kick the door of a bathroom stall as hard as I can, as if to give it all my pain; before falling backwards into the opposite wall once more and crashing my face into the white bricks. My blood mixes with my tears and my legs give out, my body hits the floor and I can't breathe. All the air is being squeezed out of my body and it won't stop. I make my hands into fists and pound them on my thighs until I can't feel it anymore.
Finally able to somewhat breathe, I pull my hood over my face, now covered in blood and bruises, and walk out the back doors to my car. And I don't know where I'm going, but I drive. Up the coast of Cali in the pouring rain. I drive until I can't think anymore. Until I see no one. Almost 4 hours pass until I pull over on the side of a one-way road to seemingly nowhere. I get out of my car and find a way down the rocky shore onto the beach. I take off my grungy white high tops and let the sand sink in between my toes.
After a good 2 miles of walking deep in thought. I continue walking just before I spot something. No someone. They're just laying there. In the pouring rain. In the middle of nowhere. On a pile of rocks. At this point, every question I can ask is racing through my head. Why are they here? Are they alive? Who is that? Is someone with them? What is happening? Why? Why? Why today? The more visible they become, the more features I am able to pick out. Mint green hair styled up into a quiff. Short. Glasses. That's not- no. That can't be- it is. It's Tyler Oakley. What is he doing? What is happening? I barely know him. Am I supposed to help? Should I call someone? Is anyone here? My mind is racing and my heart pumping out of my chest. I decide I have no other option, and rush to his side to see. The first thing I notice is his entire body is covered in blood and scrapes. I rip my phone out of my back pocket and call for help.
"911 what's your emergency?"
"Uh- someone- uh I was walk- I need help someone fell- or something and he's not- he's unconscious. Just help me please" almost crying and barely able to speak I squeeze out unclear words.
"Ok sir. I need you to calm down for me. Help is on the way. Are they breathing?"
Sir? What the hell I'm literally 5. Ok Troye. Focus. "Um ye-yeah. Barely. It's shallow."
"Ok help will be there shortly." And the operator hangs up.
As soon as I put my phone down, his chest stops rising and falling. I squeeze his wrist looking desperately for a pulse, but not finding one. I don't what to do besides scream.
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A/N: wooahahhahj cliffhanger!!!
lol sorry. Well hello there everyone my name is Emily and this is my first real fanfic. So enjoy? Yeah ok anyways let me know how you like it so far (sorry for such a short chapter) and I will be updating about 1-2 times per week. Thanks for reading!
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