Is it too Late?

Twenty Nine

Caspar

I receive a text the next morning and my heart beats faster than normal. Joe should be here soon.
I urgently look at it, but as I read on more and more my heart begins to drop.

'This is the police, we need to meet with you as soon as possible. Please tell us your address'

Has Joe gotten into trouble? Or is this just a prank?

I send back the address of where I'm at, hoping and praying it's nothing serious. And if it was, why wouldn't they contact his parents first? Questions buzz around my head as I try to eat my breakfast peacefully. What could it be?

•••

The police arrive here faster than expected, and that gets me really worried. Where are you Joe?

They tell me to sit back. To prepare of what they're going to tell me.

Fear builds up inside of me.

'You were the first person we contacted, because the text came through that you sent.. We're sorry but, the man we identify as Joseph Sugg, unfortunately died. We believe it happened in the early hours of yesterday morning... It appears to be suicide. His car was.. Found on the edge of a cliff just on the outskirts of London. We dont know why he was there. But if we find anything else, we'll let you know.'

From the word 'died' I hear nothing. Everything blocks up. I cant breathe, I cant hear, I cant see properly. I wanted to sleep. I wanted to sleep and this to all be over. I wanted to wake up and for Joe to be lying next to me, telling me it will all be okay. Why? Why, why, why? Why him??

Tears fell down my face as my other features showed no emotion.

'We'll leave you to greave alone. I'm sorry. I think you should have this.' One says, handing me Joes phone.

I take it and toss it to the other side of the room, as my palms reach my eyes as I sob. Each of the police men look at me sympathetically, but walk out and shut the door behind them.

I must be dreaming. He cant be dead. He was here the other day, telling me how precious life was, how he didn't want me to die. How he wanted me to have the treatment.

Maybe the police have it wrong. Maybe his car just broke down; coincidently on a cliff. Maybe he walked off somewhere in the early hours.. But why would he leave his phone?? He must have left something behind?

I stand up, holding my stomach in pain, but continuing with my action. I walk over to his phone and pick it up and take it back to the bed where I sit down. I turn it on, and pain strikes me once again. I was his lock screen. It was taken when we were at playlist live, and I was smiling like there was no tomorrow. I miss those times. I miss Joe.

I swipe and continue to look through his phone. I go on his memos to look if there's any clues; nope. I go on his social medias; nope. Last of all, I go on his photo album...bingo.

Everything is normal; his selfies, etcetera, that I ignore. But there's a most recent picture that I click on that intruges me.

It seems like its taken in the hospital. In this room. There's a white piece of paper, on a desk? My desk. This desk next to me.

I peer over to my right, where I spot the piece of paper. Butterflies swarm inside of me again.

I pick it up and begin to read it, but oh how I wish I didn't.

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Ficmas day4

Im sorry.. Forgive me.

But besides this, i cant believe its December!! This year has gone so quick, and i can't wait until Christmas.