tw//homophobia, suicide scene
It's been three years. Three fucking years since I lost him.
I lost him to something that could've been prevented if only I were there for him — there with him. But no. I wasn't. And his demons got the best of him.
He was sad. So, so sad. But no one would take the time to listen to him. I'm ashamed to say that I was one of those people. He needed me and he was too afraid to tell me. But he knew that I knew he needed me.
All those nights I'd sleep in the hotel room beside his and hear him sobbing his heart out into his pillow. He tried to quiet them, but I could still hear.
Axl gave him a ton of shit for it and I will never forget it. Saul was dead for all of three hours and the first thing Axl thought of when the doctor had told us was, "I guess we should start looking for a new guitarist."
The doctor looked disturbed, I looked disturbed, even Izzy looked disturbed. Nobody knew what went down in Axl's head but we all could agree that it was entirely fucked up. I still remember the conversation we all had that day. It haunts me.
"Axl, that's really insincere." Steven sniffled, eyes rimmed red, cheeks and eyes puffy from tears and he was shaking every so often. Slash was his best friend. They'd known each other longer than we've been a band.
"It's not. I'm just thinking about what happens now. Everyone thinks about that after death."
"It's been fucking three hours since we found him dead and that's all you can think about?!" I snapped at Axl as tears ran down my face.
"He was our best friend. And now he's gone. We could have been there and we weren't." I snapped.
Izzy slowly blinked away his tears.
Just then, Ola and Anthony came storming up to us. She immediately approached me and stared up at me with big, hopeful eyes. More tears ran down my face as I bit my quivering lip.
I shook my head and she gasped, covering her face as she sunk to her knees and sobbed. Anthony, her husband, was right by her side, comforting her as silent tears ran down his face.
I found him in the bathroom when we had got home. He'd slit his wrists and slipped underwater after taking his last breaths, dying before we even got to the doorstep.
I couldn't explain the horror that ran through me as I lifted his lifeless body from the water and dropped to the middle of the bathroom floor, still holding him, as I screamed for someone to call an ambulance.
I held his head and I hugged him so tight, but I knew he was gone. My heart wouldn't accept the fact. It couldn't.
How the fuck was I supposed to tell him I'd been in love with him for a few years now?
I remember Steven and Izzy running into the bathroom, and both their faces going pale. I sobbed into Slash's wet shirt, and held him close until the paramedics came and practically tore my arms off trying to get him from me. My arms and clothes were covered in his blood.
I remember there was a note I found under my pillow that night when we got back home. It was specifically addressed to me, but I felt the need to show his mom only because it was the right thing to do. It was two pages and read:
