Youtuber One Shots

Sweetheart, what did you bury in the garden? - A H20Delirious and ???? Story

I have no clue what this is but I'm feeling a halloween kinda vibe. I'm hopefully going to be writing more soon, especially for the spoopy month. Enjoy <3

Genre: Angst

Warnings: Sad, Gore, Violence

Words: 951

-TaylortheDinosaur ^,-,^

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Everything about him was a lie.

Watching Jonathan move about the room it's hard to believe we are even the same species. He's got the same shell alright, and totally charming, handsome even. But it's like all his wiring is screwed up, or his chemical balance, maybe that's it? My mother always said we're all just one or two chemicals away from losing our minds, it was her way of making sure I didn't feel superior.

He shakes as he does the zips up on the stuffed suitcase. I can see his fingers wobble as they grasp for the handle and the tremble in his hands as he drags it from the lounge to the hallway. Maybe he has a chemical imbalance from birth, or he was dropped? Maybe he went through a traumatic event or he is simply going through an illness? He was acting so strangely about this situation. 

As he came in from work he began asking me how my day was, the usual necessities, and then he started grilling me with all these questions. Like, 'What's in that bag?', 'Why are you hiding it here?', 'Why?'. So many why this and why thats. I didn't do anything wrong. I am not at fault. Yet here he is, blaming me, in his crazy schemes and his insane motives.

I'm not afraid of Jonathan and his craziness, he needs me. I can help him in ways other people can't. Mostly I pretend I don't know what he does or feels, it isn't as hard as you'd think. He has all the right mannerisms despite feeling all of the emotions. I don't know what it would take for me to find the courage to stop him, maybe one day I'll find out, or maybe I won't. His emotions toy with his mind and sometimes that benefits him, but in this very moment, it is not helping.

He huffs and groans through the hallway, wiping his brow and face from sweat and tears. His lower lip quivers as he glances at my questionable glances from the stairway. He sobs as he yanks at the case and the wheels snap off. He falls. Falling almost in slow motion, his eyes wide like the ones before, filled with fear. As he collided with the floor, the pictures shake on the side of the hallway and one photo - the photo of our honeymoon - fell. Fell almost as slowly as he had. The smash encased the room and echoed up and around the house. Glass shards flew in all directions, some over him and some towards me. 

His breaths were ragged and harsh as he apologised profusely. Hands shaking more rapidly than before, almost vibrating. I grabbed the jagged shards from the floor and walked towards him quickly, crunching over some hidden pieces as I moved. He jammed his fist into his mouth to stifle the scream as I crouched at his feet, assessing the bloody drops from my hands. He looked like his legs were frozen into place as he clawed at the walls with bitten nails and the already peeling wallpaper came away at once. He tried to grab onto something to help himself up before I leant him my hand. His jaw dropped in a silent scream of horror. Noticing my hand, it was covered with blood from the glass. Small slivers embedded in my skin like a decorative piece of art. I brushed my hand on my bloodied jeans to get most of the fragments off before lifting Jonathan cautiously from the floor.

"Why?" He asked again. Not again. Not the why. I felt my blood boil. I could feel my skin heating up, my face redden and my toes curl. My fists became harder and I could feel my breathing quicken. I shook my head heavily. I could see him begin to cry heavily. His chest heaving up and down as if it were being pumped like a balloon. The weeping racking his rib cage as he grabbed the bag once again and dragged it to the garden. 

And then he began digging.

Shovelling in a pattern lost from my daze. I began thinking, lost in an ocean full of people unlike me. I don't feel the same way they do. I don't feel the same as anyone. I don't fit in. I thought Jonathan understood, he was getting there but I have to make him realise. I need to force him to understand. He needs to know how it feels in my position. Lonely, forced to feel happy when the true happiness is through pain. It's been thirteen chances and I cannot go through another, especially with Jonathan. I've spent so long training him. He will understand.

"I just want a nice, easy life. What's wrong with that?" He asked, his hair soaked with sweat and his cheeks drowned with tears. The red in his eyes fueled my heart from the ache he felt. He shook his head, his hands now still, covered in dirt. Dirt and blood. 

"It's not easy feeling the way you do. Let go of the emotions. Live like me!" I exclaimed. My heart pounded in my head. My fingers tingle in excitement. This is how I feel. I fuel on pain and suffering. It is normal. Other people are wrong. I'm not weird. I'm not creepy. I'm not a bad guy. i just want to be happy.

"You killed someone Evan. I just buried them...in our back garden. I can't believe this..." His eyes welling up and pouring down his raw skin. 

"I simply wanted to be happy. Now you will experience that. Or I'll kill you. But only because I love you Jonathan..."