the dumping ground // one shots

letters // drabble

warnings - mentioned death/ wanting death; terminal medical condition; sad ryan

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dear you,

it's weird. writing these makes me feel better, even though i know you will never read them. jody did the same thing once, the day may li's grandmother paid us a visit.

but you wouldn't know that. you would have been somewhere completely different.

anyway, jody said it helped her cope with her mother's abandonment but you didn't abandon me, not on purpose.

you somehow knew you were going to die and that scared me to the bone. how could you be so calm? did you want to die all along?

maybe i wasn't helping in the way i thought i was.

all the badgering and worrying i did probably made you hate me. i hope it didn't. i had already lost my mother, the thought of losing you as well made my insides twist in ways i didn't know were possible.

you see, it took me a long time to realise i was in love with you. but by that time, you were already gone.

it seems so obvious now. the way my heart rate picked up every time i saw you and the warmth in my chest when we spoke made me feel like i was walking on air.

how my heart shattered the day you died.

i can still picture it clear as day. we were lying in your hospital bed; you had taken a turn for the worst. but for once, there were no machines attached to you.

we were watching a comedy movie and i remember how you wouldn't quite laugh at it, you would breath heavily through your nose and a small smile would lay on your lips.

but halfway though, you stopped.

i didn't think anything of it at first, not every part of the film was funny. then i looked over and you had closed your eyes. i put my hand to your chest, and your heart wasn't beating.

i called out for the doctors and pressed the button that alerted them; they didn't rush in like i wanted them to. they escorted me out of the room and into mike's awaiting arms and then sombrely walked back to your room.

i've always wondered if the doctors knew you were going to die that day.

after their small display, i spent hours in that waiting room with the everyone else who lives here, knowing what the outcome was. you were gone. all that time thinking in those uncomfortable chairs made the shock of the news dissipate.

and when the doctors told us what we all knew, i remember one thing sticking out in my mind.

i don't think i ever thanked you. the day my mother died had been the hardest thing i ever faced and even though you were sick, you helped me through it. i will always be grateful for that.

i hope, deep down, you knew i was too.

i don't want to keep talking about the sad things, they weren't the reason i started writing this letter.

the truth is, this is my last one to you. mike thinks that i need to start moving on with my life, i can't live in the past forever. he's right in some sense, but i don't think he understands how much your death actually affected me. i don't really know either.

i've been writing this for a few hours now, trying to figure out what to tell you. it's harder to do that when you know you have limited time.

i guess what i've been trying to say is i'm sorry, for everything i put you through and more. you didn't deserve me unloading on you or snapping at you and i wish you were alive so i could say that.

with everything i have,

ryan

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the final letter lay beneath the old willow tree. the same tree he asked to be buried under when he was diagnosed. ryan hates that he was already thinking about his death but, at the same time, he was also thankful.

at least he got to choose where he lay to rest. it was more than his mother had.

as he stood in front of the fairly new gravestone, ryan couldn't help but shed a small tear for the people he had lost. it seemed like everyone he loved was dying and all he could do was watch.

his phone suddenly vibrated and shocked him away from the calming atmosphere that had settled. he knew what it was though, it was the same one everyday.

with a heavy sigh, he stood back from the gravestone and double checked the time on his phone, he wanted to make sure the reminder was right.

eleven - eleven.

he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, thinking about the same thing that had been plaguing his mind for months.

ryan wished he would be next person to lay under the willow tree.

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stuck for ideas, requests are always open : )

i know ryan's mum blamed him for everything and probably hates him but she's still his mother, he's bound to be upset if she dies