Part Four - Singing Song that Could Only Catch the Ear of the Desperate

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TRIGGER WARNING

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Patrick's POV

"Hey that's mine!" I said, taking my favorite pic out of Pete's hand.

"Oh right, mine is the one with man written on it, sorry," he took a different one from his case.

"Yeah, and mines the one with shut the fuck up written on it," I said back, and we both fake smiled at each other. I went over to my guitar, and started playing with the strings, trying to get it to sound as close to perfect as possible.

"Isn't that girl still here?" Andy asked, looking over his drum set.

"Umm, yep," I said, trying to focus back on the guitar.

"Oh yeah, I haven't seen her since two nights ago," Pete said looking up suddenly interested.

"Yeah, um, she's been, busy," I lied. She rarely came out of her room, and I still haven't heard her speak a word. I honestly felt horrible for her, and wanted to do something, but I figured when she was ready she'd come to me, or at least my mom.

"Well, why don't you go see if she wants to watch us practice. I mean there has to be someone living in this house who appreciates good music," Pete said smirking at me.

I sighed, and set my guitar back down, "Alright."

I stood, and went up the stairs, and down the hall until I was in front of her door. I went to knock, but I heard something from inside, and dropped my hand, pressing my ear to the wood of the door.

"Mom? Dad? Are you there?" her voice was shaky, and I could tell she's been crying, "I... I don't know what to do anymore," her voice cracked on the last word, and she sobbed slightly, but tried to hold it back, "I-I feel weak again. I always stayed strong, for you guys, but... Now you're gone. What do I have to live for now?" WHAT WAS SHE TALKING ABOUT!? I pressed harder to the door, "I-I want to die again, mom! You told me to tell you if I ever did! You said you'd help me! Why'd you have to go?!" I heard her fall to the ground, and instantly was on my stomach looking under the slight crack beneath the door. She was curled in the fetal position, sobbing violently. I wanted to hug her, I wanted to go in there, and tell her she could talk to me, but I just laid there watching her for a few minutes, until she sighed, and sat up pulling her knees to her chest, and said, "You know what the worst part of it all is. I'm complaining, and yet, it's my fault. If I'd been happy from the start, you wouldn't have made such a fuss to try and surprise me, and... You'd be here now," she started crying again, and buried her face in her arms. She said something, but it was muffled, so I moved closer to the door, she lifted her head, and tangled her fingers in her hair, saying, "I want to die!" and started crying harder. My jaw dropped, and I wanted to run in there, and help her, but I wasn't sure how, she clearly didn't like being here, I'd make things worse.

I looked back to her, and she was now sitting criss cross with her hands in her lap, and her face was emotionless. I was glad she wasn't crying anymore, but this was almost worse. I now noticed the big scars that covered her arms, and I gasped. She suddenly looked up alarmed, and I jumped to my feet, almost running down the stairs, and back into the living room. I ran my fingers through my hair, and checked behind me to see if she'd seen me, and opened her door, but she wasn't there, and the door was still closed. Had she been doing that since she'd gotten here. Why didn't I make more of an effort to make her feel like she belonged here? What if she hadn't heard me? Would she have... Done something? Could she?

"Is she coming?" Joe asked, looking up from tuning his guitar.

I jumped, remembering they were here, and just shook my head, "No," I threw my guitar strap over my head, and stood in front of the mic, and started playing. The guys followed, and when the singing part started, I tried to let everything I was feeling out with each word.

I couldn't continue on like this. I couldn't let her continue on like this... I don't know if she would. I had to do something, and I was going to... Tomorrow...

Your POV

I stood up, and went over to the door, pressing my ear to it, and listening for any more noise. Had someone been watching me? If so how much had they seen?

I sighed, maybe it was a good thing if they were. The surprise of it all could have just saved my life. But I didn't want saving. I really wanted to die, but now was not the time. I turned off the lamp, and crawled into bed, staring out the window. I probably would sleep, but as long as I was laying here, I couldn't do anything I may regret.

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