Empty. I feel so... empty right now.
The one day I don't have duty with him...
It all goes to shit. Everything goes to absolute shit.
I'm yelling, yelling at them for changing my schedule, yelling at them for not allowing me to see him, yelling at them for not saving him. I call them idiots--fucking idiots--for not letting me be there. I could have done something, I could have done something to stop it, and yet, because I wasn't there, everything has gone to Hell and back.
I'm pretty sure I might get fired for this, but I don't care about it. I don't care about anything but him right now.
I'm watching him, watching him as they move his pale arms to lay on his chest. They carry him away. His eyelashes lay across his frail cheeks, damp from the fucking bath water, as his hair is. His lips are blue, his chest still.
Tears are streaming down my cheeks as I continue to yell and sob, and people are giving me sympathetic looks, but I ignore them.
They don't know what he meant to me. They don't know what he was to me.
YOU ARE READING
Anxiety Attacks (Septiplier)
FanfictionShort story based around the idea of illness and such. I can't give too much away because I want the story to tell its own... well, story.
