The Ghost of Foxfield

Prologue: Taking a Dive

(Hi, Echo here. I just wanted to say that this idea came to me at 5 am so don't expect it to be that good. I'm also writing this because I think Issac needs more screen time and fan work for him even if it is angst. Enjoy!)

!!!!!!HUGE TRIGGER WARNING FOR: SUICIDE, DEATH, OVERDOSE, BULLYING, AND DEPRESSION!!!!!

This was it, he just couldn't take it anymore! Isaac looked down at the prescription bottle, filled with antidepressants, in his hand. He hated these things, they didn't help they only made him feel numb, sick, and made his insomnia worse.

Today had been a pretty bad day, he got almost no sleep last night (undoubtedly because of the stupid meds), he left the window open and the rain ruined one of his favorite sketchbooks, his parents weren't home as always, he forgot his math homework so he got yelled at by the teacher, he sat alone at lunch (again), the "popular boys" broke his brand new art kit he payed for with his own money, and the art room was closed today because the art teacher was in a rush to get a good seat at the basketball game tonight. So here he was standing on the school's roof trying to get even a little motivation.

Needless to say, Isaac wasn't doing the best, he felt like collapsing in on himself and disappearing. He looked at the bottle again, rolling it around in his hand, trying to fight the sudden urge to just down the whole bottle and see what happens.

He wondered who would miss him, he doesn't have any friends, and the only family he knows is his mom and dad. He felt bad for his mom, she was constantly working and trying to help him. Then there was his dad, he was never home, for a long time Isaac didn't even think he had one.

Isaac was getting a headache from this war going on inside his head. He just needed to sit down for a bit, maybe write all these thoughts down.

By the time he was done writing, it looked an awful lot like a suicide note. He knew he needed to calm down. He reached back into his bag and stood up, pulling out the bottle one more time. He walks towards the railing that was always too low for his liking, some idiot could fall right off if they weren't careful, he opened the bottle.

He felt the calming feeling of wind blowing through his hair, softy blowing his ponytail to the side. It was starting to get cooler, how long had he been out here?

He put the bottle to his mouth, he never put the med into his hand because he always wanted to throw them away. His eyes widened as pain interrupted his thoughts. He realized he poured way too many, the world started to spin around him, he looked around in a panic feeling as if he couldn't breathe.

He heard the door to the roof open, his eyes snapped in that direction, back now facing the railing. It took a few seconds to comprehend but he soon realized the person who was now walking towards him was Error Quinton, school king, leader of the group that messes with Isaac.

Isaac backed towards the rail as he came closer. He was saying something but Issac couldn't hear it over the ringing in his ears, and his head hurt way too much to try and figure it out.

The School King was coming closer to him, so Issac quickly backed away.

Bad idea.

He felt his foot slip, and his back slip over the bar, next thing he knew, he was falling, and for a moment he wondered if this was a dream, it sure felt like one, wow did he feel tired! Maybe a small nap would be ok.

The last thing he saw was Error, leaning over the rail, arm outstretched as if trying to reach him.

His world went dark...

Then light once more.