Running Out Of Hope

Dark Before The Light

Uh hiya guys! So this is just another one of my one shot attempts! This was inspired by the song "Running Out Of Hope" by Alt Indie (or so I think hehe)
XOXO 💚

******Trigger Warning********

*Pete's POV*

I lay in bed staring at the dark ceiling. I felt emotionless. Like nothing in the world mattered anymore. The bad thoughts were slowly crawling into my head, they were slowly getting to me. I felt like I was suffocating, I felt like I was underwater. Nothing could save me right now. In the dark I felt very weak and vulnerable. I couldn't do anything to save myself.

I got up and opened my curtains. The moonlight illuminated my room faintly and that should've made me feel better but it didn't. I felt very weak, I felt as is I was slowly dying. I made my way to my drawer and I opened the drawer. After a few seconds of looking for the silver blade I felt a little pain in my index finger. I had found the blade.

As I grabbed it, I felt a sense of dread overtake me. I knew I shouldn't use this as a method to cope with my emotions but there was no other way. Or at least that's how it felt.

I carefully grabbed the blade and pressed it on my left wrist. I stayed motionless for a few seconds. I debated with myself, should I do this? Should I mark my wrists with this silver blade? Should I really inflict pain on myself? I reached to a conclusion after about a minute.

I wasn't going to do this. I couldn't do that to myself anymore. I remember what Patrick once told me.

"Pete you can't keep doing this to yourself."
"Why not Patrick?"
"Because one day you'll get older and you're gonna regret doing that to yourself. Those scars will never fade away completely. Trust me on this one"
"Okay Trick"

That was one of our last conversations. I blinked back tears and tried to stop myself from sobbing. Patrick had been my rock, my reason, my guardian angel. He had a future, he had so many things left to do but he never would do them now.

Patrick was killed in a car crash at the age of 21. He had been driving from a hotel in NYC to another hotel in Illinois. You see Trick really loved road trips. He said that road trips let you see the world in a new perspective.

I was waiting for him to come back home but he never came back. I received the call on a late Saturday afternoon. After that call I was never the same. How could I be when my fiancee was dead? It didn't even feel like it was real. It felt like a fucked up dream, scratch that because it actually felt like a fucked up nightmare. Only that it wasn't a nightmare. It was real.

The day of his funeral I couldn't even get up. It was a bright sunny day, it was a beautiful day only that it sure didn't feel like it. His funeral was a blur for me. I can't remember much from it. I know I didn't cry. I just remember I felt very numb.

I almost feel as numb as I did that day. I threw the razor at my wall and curled up on the floor.
The moonlight washed over me and I felt the tears start pouring out. I gasped for air and ending up choking. I couldn't seem to catch my breath. As I sobbed my heart out I heard a voice.

It was his voice.

Don't cry. I'm okay. I love you.

That was what he told me. I know it was him. Maybe he knew I was running out of hope. Or maybe it was just my fucked up mind. I cried until I felt sleep overtake me.

A single whisper was heard that night.

Pete.

Oml I cried while writing this! I really should go to sleep since tomorrow I have my morning shift hehe. Anyways constructive criticism is always appreciated! I hope you enjoyed this little one shot!
XOXO 💚