Crankiplier Oneshots

Hotline ¡¡¡TW SUICIDE!!!

PLEASE skip this part of the book if you are sensitive to suicide and suicidal thoughts!

Mark fucking hated himself.

He couldn't deal with his father's death. It was too much for him to handle. He cut himself off from Tyler, Bob, Wade, even his own mother. He sat in his room all day, and if he wasn't overwhelmingly numb he was so angry it took all of his willpower to not punch a hole in his wall. But he knew that was stupid. That wouldn't bring his dad back. Nothing could, after all.

He was dead...

He looked to the rope in his hand. Maybe I can't bring my dad back, he thought, but I can sure as hell bring myself to him...

He spaced out for a while before realizing he'd been staring at the rope for far too long. He shook his head slightly to get himself fully out of his trance before looking up how to tie a noose. Obviously, a suicide hotline came up.

He considered it for a moment. What he was doing. What was at stake if he succeeded.

He didn't want to die. But the urge was so strong to just do it...

He pressed dial on the phone.

"Hi, This is the Los Angeles Suicide Prevention Center, I'm Ethan Nestor, what's your name?"

"U-uh, Mark. Mark Fischbach," He hadn't spoken in weeks, the feeling was odd.

"Hiya there Mark, what seems to be the issue?" The voice on the other end was cheery, he sounded like he was bright, but obviously concerned about the other.

"I uh, I just," he hesitated. This was a bad idea and he knew it. "I-I wanna see my dad again, but I can't. He....He's gone. S-So, I thought maybe," here it comes, "maybe it'd be easier, if I just...joined him."

The voice, Ethan, sighed sadly on the other end. "Mark, I know it sounds like that's the easiest way out, to just give up on everything and just end it all, end the unpleasant feeling. But this feeling, this want to just...die, it will end. And one day, though it won't be anytime soon, it will get better. Easier to handle."

Mark stayed silent, letting himself process the words Ethan said. He realized he may have been silent a bit too long, as he heard a small "Mark?" through the receiver.

"Hey, hi, sorry, just...spaced out for a minute there. I just...I feel like I should be over it by now, like the thoughts of him being gone, and never being able to spend time with him again...like that should be over. But it's not. It's been half a year, everyone else is back to normal, so..." his voice cracked. "why am I still hurting?"

"Death is a different thing to experience for everyone. It's not that easy for everyone to handle. And I can assure you that not everyone is back to normal. There's different ways of coping with death, and one of them is feigning happiness. It's okay to still feel sucky after a loved one passes."

"Is it though?" His voice sounded small, unsure of himself.

"One hundred percent. I promise."

Mark nodded. "O-okay. Thank you, Ethan. I...I don't feel like going through with it."

"Anytime, Mark. If you feel in danger of harming yourself, feel free to call again."

---

It didn't get better. It got so, so much worse.

Nothing felt different, except now he was angry. Angry at the fact Ethan lied. He said it would get better and it fucking didn't. He lied and now he was so ready to end it all he didn't even care enough to call the number before downing a bottle of pills.