Patrick sat on his couch, his home wasn't too small nor too big. He bought it in the hopes of accommodating two-to-three people, but now he's grieving over the loss of whom he'd share his home with.
Before Patrick could get too embellished in his grief, memories, anything likewise, there had suddenly been a knock at the front door, mumbling to himself, Patrick sat his drink down, unfortunately being careless, it tipped over on the couch, though he didn't care. Patrick made his way to the front door, before hearing the unsettling knock again, it was instead heard from a closer door; not being from the front door.
It didn't take long before Patrick looked over at the nearby closet door and realise, that had been where the knocks were coming from. Patrick took anxious steps forward, gulping, he inched his way, slowly turning the closet knob, it creaked just a bit before he swung the door wide open. Nothing. Just old coats, hats, and an everlasting darkness.
Patrick only stared for a moment until he heard something skitter by, he saw a black mass along with whatever else lurked out in the dark. It seems the newfound masses and sounds, were never here before, due to Patrick's lack of sobriety, he glanced over at the clock that hung halfway on the wall. reading, 2:12 A.M., Patrick decided that sleep would be the best thing to be able to cure him right now. With no hesitation, Patrick fell straight back into the closet, making the choice of where to sleep at, easy.
Tossing and turning, night terrors drifted all through him, the night was rough, but also odd, the night terrors that Patrick experienced were odd, due to the fact that he hadn't had them since he was a boy, before he grew up into the man he is today.
Before the dreams could worsen, Andy walked into the house, using the spare key that Patrick let him use. Andy moved closer to Patrick, lightly shaking his arm to get him up for the day, All in almost a moment Patrick's eyes fluttered open to meet Andy's comforting ones, but this time, there was a twist. Instead of the once soft emerald like orbs that once possessed his eyes, they were now a solid tar, not a speck of colour or emotion showed.
Patrick jerked upright and jolted back, hitting his head hard on the wall that surrounded the closet, slowly he curled his hand around his head, cursing under his breath terror filled his body, nothing could compare to the terrors he's viewed before even in his dreams. Patrick couldn't help but abuse himself (which would work in waking up, if it weren't a delusion) in hopes it would wake himself up.
"You got me!" Andy said in a cocky voice, lightly chuckling. Andy was being sarcastic, and Patrick knew, but all he could question himself is, 'Why would my best friend do this to me?'
"W-Wh-What are you?" Patrick asked through tears, and shaky breaths.
"I'm your best friend! Don't you remember me? Ring a bell!?" Andy taking a step closer to Patrick with each word anger growing.
"You're not Andy!" Patrick shouted locking eyes with the monster, taking terror-filled steps back.
"Oh no!" Andy smirked, in a cocky voice, laced with poison taking a step closer while Patrick taking every step back, through it all Andy holding his widening smirk.
Patrick loosened his tight grip around his own knuckles, only one thing turned his mind. Escape. His eyes dotting around until finally locking his eyes to a vent, and that's when an idea popped into his mind.
"Could you excuse me for a moment? I'd like to use the bathroom before I die." Patrick asked, before he got his answer some unknown music started to play, then a foreign man popped out from nowhere, and that's when Andy and Patrick stood with a vexed look. Then the man started to sing.
"Why you always lyin'? MmMmmMmMmmOH MY GoD SToP fUckIN LyIn'!"
In an all so sudden movement, everything went back to normal, Andy shook his head as if he were shaking thoughts away, like just as what happened were to be a delusion. He looked back at Patrick, Andy had a stone cold stare, with bones like stone, you could see all the light drain from his complexion. Turning him into a ghostly white shade. An unbreakable eye contact, almost as if they were ships anchored together, nothing was going to break them apart.
It seemed to be like that, until Patrick started to inch his feet until he made a breaking sprint to his room, Andy soon following, but he didn't run. He took normal steps, with his boots colliding to the hardwood floor, that ascended into the hallway, and descended to Patrick's room. Falling on his carpet, Patrick quickly made a jump to the door, pressing his weight against it, quickly turning the shabby lock. Pushing a bureau over the door to make the extra weight harder to push through.
It'd give him time to escape.
Though, looking through the broken blinds there was no sight of dawn nearing the dark city, Patrick pushed himself up making his way the bedroom bathroom, jiggling the knob on the door pushing it open, only to shut it again. With shaky breaths and Parkinson's-like hands, Patrick tried to carefully open the exhaust vent that went over the air that would be taken in and pushed back out, it all seemed to go well until, the shattering of wood, that could be heard all the way in east jesus nowhere.
Patrick hurriedly carried himself up into the event to crawl out into the outside world, it all seems like a good plan, while Patrick carefully put the vent liner back over the gaping hole that opened in the ceiling, and starting to make his way over to the vents that lead outside. He used one hand to cover his mouth, and the other to slowly push himself along, he gasped and stop moving once he realised that it's dark outside, and he has tunnel vision.
Patrick whispering a curse word, he pushed himself further along the way, while another epiphany washed over him that this might be his only escape.
Tap. Tap. Click.
The sound of Andy's boots as Patrick tried to quiet his movements, to remain undetected, he felt beads of sweat roll down his forehead, down to his neck, and making a small drop onto the vents bottom.
Everything stopped, no sounds, a cooling wave air washed over Patrick once he had realised that he was outside on the grass, everything was calm and he was finally collected and breathing his own air, without feeling weighed, everything was okay.
Andy saw him on the grass, with a smile, just lying there, and that's when he approached him ever so carefully, slightly lifting rock that was at least two times the size of the both of their heads combined, and dropped it over Patricks head, Andy maniacally laughing would be the last thing that ever flooded Patricks ears, sadly.
Eight days later
Lindsay, Gerard, Andy, Joe, Frank, everyone else, all good friends of Patrick, they approached his funeral, slowly looking at his coffin, his body lying lifeless, he looked at peace, even a emotionless mouth, with closed eyes, somehow he looked at peace with himself and everyone around him.
Lindsay approached the stand to say a few words over his passing.
"Patrick was a complex, and vexing man all on his own, aside his mental illnesses, he didn't let them get in the way of others, he even found a way to brush aside his schizophrenia, which in the medical field, had never been seen before, I guess you could call it a selfless act of God. Outside of my office, I didn't know much about Patrick and his private life, but after hearing his brain rupture, I couldn't help but still come to say something, I know this may not be the best eulogy anyone has ever said, but Patrick was a good, kind hearted man, that so many people loved, and I think we call all agree that he will be dearly missed, but the angels have hold over him now, and we an pray that he will look down and care for us after death like we did to him in life."
