Michael In The Bathroom

Now Through No Fault Of Mine

Jeremy was alive, barely.

He was still hanging on, and god did he oh so desperately want to let go. He wanted to slip.

He couldn't live here like this anymore, knowing he caused the death of his best friend and destroyed his fucking headstone.

The room spun as he opened his eyes, being greeted to a spinning light was not the best thing to see when you wake up. He looked around the white room. A hospital.

He looked to his parents, the two smiling reassuringly as he slowly realized what this was. He was alive.

No. Nonononono. You were supposed to die back in that fucking bathroom, asshole! Let me die, please.

Letmedieletmedieletmedieletmedieletmedie.

His thoughts all mushed together in one monotone chant. He looked around the room quietly, searching for what could possibly kill him.

What if he just.... He weakly reached across his body and ripped his IV out harshly, blood already starting to come out.

Meanwhile, his parents rushed to get a doctor or a nurse.

Jeremy sighed, not enough.... He got off of the bed weakly and searched through the cabinets, gloves, gloves, and more gloves.....

He groaned and looked to the window, peeking out. What was this, the third floor? He bit his lip, maybe if he tried to land on his head-

His thoughts got cut off as the door opened, revealing his disheveled looking parents along with his doctor.

Jeremy's father looked to him, "Son, are you all right?"

Jeremy stayed silent, avoiding any eye contact as he stared at the window.

Jeremy's mother bit her lip softly, "Jeremy honey? Are-Are you okay sweetheart?" She tried to sound as sweet as possible as she watched he son stare blankly at the window.

All three gasped suddenly, knowing what this was. Jeremy's mom let out a shriek, trying to dash towards him.

They were all were suddenly panicking because Jeremy had just ran towards the window.