Stranger Things One-shots (Requests Closed)

People Say

People say he's sad.

Very sad, too sad to properly function.

He wakes up, goes to work, comes home, and sleeps, and even then, his dreams are haunted by the ghosts and demons of his past. And then, he wakes up again. A repetitive cycle of harsh blandness.

You would think that a week couldn't change you, it could impact your entire existence, and most people... they can't change you, not in that amount of time.

No...

People say how he barely speaks, and when he does, his voice is montone and soft, almost as if it's slowly carried through the wind.

His eyes lost their genuine spark of curiosity, his charismatic demeanor slipped away over the course of days, months, years...

His smile slowly dropped into an eternal frown, he tries to smile, for his friends, his family. Sadly, every time he tries, it's taken as a grimace. He looks almost agonized.

People say that his once lively soul was overtaken by utter dejectiveness, he's absolutely beautiful.

The whispers on his way home, they're all about the boy who lost his existence, who lost his being. But, he barely acknowledges them as he silently crosses his way, dreary and dark.

People say that he was once a handsome boy, he was. He was, and still is, a handsome boy. His cheeks are hollow, sunken and waxy. Barely-tame hair that's it's rich navy... it's shiny, cascading in careless grease of everlasting carelessness.

You would always think that a mere friend of his, someone who he cared about deeply, but only knew for a week's time, would create such an impact.

It has, it's gravely affected his mortal soul, and even if it's incomprehensible how dramatic that may be, it's the gospel truth. Him.

Once happy, once standing up right and tall, with a bright smile and warm eyes, faded. Crumbled, slowly sinking away into the waste of oblivion.

Depression? Yes, if lack of a better word. He's sad. Too sad.

He was once a shining angel, in my eyes. So warm, so intellectual, amazing. Sadly... it's like his friends have been thrown into this dark pit of wallowing sadness as well... they're just better at hiding it.

The story of how this poor boy fell off of His throne? Over the months, He was fine. That is, until he really started to think, to understand. Months of innocence and denial, but that changed, as if abruptly and over night, he came to the realization... it's too late. It's too far gone, everything, it has evaporated, like the light mist on a warm Sunday morning... yet, to him... it's not warm.

Beauty has turned to ash. It burned, when his happiness burned. He's gone, too far gone.

The worst of all?

Apparently, I killed him. I ripped his heart out of his chest, and left it to rot. I pulled his determination and motivation away from him, the moment that everything... happened.

I made him a vague shadow of existence... noticed, but never strided for. He just lingers, too lazy to actually try anything.

My fault, it's all my fault. I killed him. He's now a wraith, an aimless and hazy vision in our existence.

I want to help him. I always have. But I hurt him. I killed him, and there's nothing I can do.

Now, I can only watch him, and what the people say.

(I was in the mood for some grim shit. My idea, this IS a one-shot, just... it's vague.)