The Death Of A Septic Friend

Part 2

Man, I wish I can forget him.
His beautiful green floof.
His lovely Irish accent.
His sweet hugs.
His sweet kisses.
I can't. But I have to.
I have to go on without him. He's gone now.
Suddenly, I realized that his subscribers have no idea about it.

I get out of my bed and I take the phone. I open Twitter as fast as I can. Luckily, we both shared our passwords, so I have access to his account.

I think I should make a video about it. So I turn on the lights, and I begin recording.

"Hey, guys, it's Wiishu, and I have to tell you: Seán was h-hit by a car a few days ago. That's why no videos were uploaded recently. This is not a p-prank. Markiplier tweeted about it too. I'm sorry to say it, but... Rest in p-peace, Jacksepticeye."

I quickly type "Hey, guys, it's Wiishu, and this is the last tweet on this account. I'm sorry, guys. Seán is dead."

And I tweet it.

I check the immediate replies. Everyone's so sad. I c-can't handle it anymore.

I close the phone and put it on the cabinet next to the bed. I take a random pillow and I start crying.

"It's all my fault. It's all m-my fault. It's all my fault..."

If only he was here to calm me down.

I can't keep it in. I have to do something.

And I unintentionally shout.

"NO! IT'S ALL MY FAULT! THAT'S WHY HE DIED! IT'S MY FAULT! It's all my... it's all my fault... it's all my fault...
...where are you?..
...where are you, Jack...
...why did you leave me... why did you leave your fans... why did you die...
...why, Seán, why...
...why...
I want to be with you, I want to talk to you, to hug you, to kiss you...
I want to go there, I want to go where you are... I want to..."

I sneak to the kitchen, making sure Mark doesn't hear me.

I see a knife on the table.