Status: One Shot
Straight to Hell
1/1
I press my lips against yours, cupping your face in my hands.
'Matt...' I murmur, climbing on top of you. You don't utter a word, merely lay there. Still. Unmoving. I run my hands across your chest, and breathe in deeply. My head is resting on your chest, and the air I'm breathing in smells of you. Pushing our lips together, I smile. But you're cold, and still not moving.
'Alex...' Jack gasps from behind me. I swirl around quickly, showing my teeth. He steps back, and I turn back to you. I kiss you again, not taking my eyes off you. I hear talking behind us, but I don't care.
'They're jealous,' I whisper to you. 'Jealous that you're mine, not theirs.' I ruffle your hair and laugh as it sticks up in odd places, and smooth it back down again. Suddenly, someone's grabbing my shoulders. I try to break free of their grip, but they're too strong. I then realize that it's Rian and Zack, and they pull me off you. I kick out, screaming your name. I see Jack crying in a corner, under a sign that I can't read while fighting to stay with you.
'Alex, you need to-'
'Matt!' I scream over Rian, still kicking. Still screaming. Still staring at you.
Then I realize. You're in a wooden box that just about fits you in, with some flowers around you. The sign above Jack reads 'Parklet Funeral Home'. As the sudden realization hits me, my heart breaks into millions of little pieces. I stop moving as everything goes into slow motion, and I can't hear anything but a high-pitch squealing. I'm still screaming your name even though I can't hear it. Jack's covering his ears. Rian and Zack are still pulling me back words, trying to calm me down. But I don't. I can't loose you. You're mine, and you can't be dead. You just can't.
So I woke up.
♥♥♥
My eyes flick open, and I'm safe in my bed. Sunlight is creeping through my curtains, and I roll out of bed. I stagger into the kitchen, still recovering from my dream nightmare. Scratching my head, I pick up the kettle. As I walk to the sink, I glance over at my calendar.
I drop the kettle.
I fall to the floor after it.
I curl up in a ball.
And I cry.
The words on the calendar?
Matt Flyzik's funeral.
'Matt...' I murmur, climbing on top of you. You don't utter a word, merely lay there. Still. Unmoving. I run my hands across your chest, and breathe in deeply. My head is resting on your chest, and the air I'm breathing in smells of you. Pushing our lips together, I smile. But you're cold, and still not moving.
'Alex...' Jack gasps from behind me. I swirl around quickly, showing my teeth. He steps back, and I turn back to you. I kiss you again, not taking my eyes off you. I hear talking behind us, but I don't care.
'They're jealous,' I whisper to you. 'Jealous that you're mine, not theirs.' I ruffle your hair and laugh as it sticks up in odd places, and smooth it back down again. Suddenly, someone's grabbing my shoulders. I try to break free of their grip, but they're too strong. I then realize that it's Rian and Zack, and they pull me off you. I kick out, screaming your name. I see Jack crying in a corner, under a sign that I can't read while fighting to stay with you.
'Alex, you need to-'
'Matt!' I scream over Rian, still kicking. Still screaming. Still staring at you.
Then I realize. You're in a wooden box that just about fits you in, with some flowers around you. The sign above Jack reads 'Parklet Funeral Home'. As the sudden realization hits me, my heart breaks into millions of little pieces. I stop moving as everything goes into slow motion, and I can't hear anything but a high-pitch squealing. I'm still screaming your name even though I can't hear it. Jack's covering his ears. Rian and Zack are still pulling me back words, trying to calm me down. But I don't. I can't loose you. You're mine, and you can't be dead. You just can't.
So I woke up.
♥♥♥
My eyes flick open, and I'm safe in my bed. Sunlight is creeping through my curtains, and I roll out of bed. I stagger into the kitchen, still recovering from my dream nightmare. Scratching my head, I pick up the kettle. As I walk to the sink, I glance over at my calendar.
I drop the kettle.
I fall to the floor after it.
I curl up in a ball.
And I cry.
The words on the calendar?
Matt Flyzik's funeral.
♠ ♠ ♠
Omg this is one of the worst things I've ever written :3 I'm sorry D:I blame Jake Southwood if it's crap. I asked his opinion, and he said it was awesome, so...
Go kill him if you wish :'D
Word Count - 416