The Worn Stuffing of His Teddy
I'm Already Doubting This Story...
Weeping at the side of his brother’s bed, Dan’s chest began to tighten as his breathing became difficult. Lifting his damp sleep up to his eyes, he swiped across, dabbing away at some of the tears.
Wandering round, he searched for his friend, the keyboardist who had got a bit too drunk and lost his way. Calling out, Teddy became slowly more aware of someone behind him, eventually turning around:
“Ali?”
“Give us yer money, mate.”
“I don’t have any.” He was being honest
“Y’ur a rock star, you’re loaded!”
“I really don’t”
“Stop fucking around.”
They found him in the alley, knife still wedged deep within the gushing stomach wound, he’d barely been breathing as his pulse whispered it’s goodbye. 30 more seconds and he would have been lost from this world and left alone to wander the next…
“Teds…please…” His head fell to the bed as he sobbed, “Please…for me…for the guys…for yourself.” It was the first time that Dan had been left with his brother. People seemed to be constantly ferrying around, changing bandages, checking his vitals…little tasks that could distract me from how close to death he was.
Clinging to his brother’s hand, he never wanted to let go. He wished to turn back time and stop him leaving the tour bus, to have gone instead; anything to stop this.
“Why couldn’t it be me? If I could I’d swap places with you in an instant.”
“Dan, it’s not your fault…”
“Yes! Yes it is! I asked him to go out instead of me!” he turned and snapped at Ed, who backed out of the room, almost silently whispering at Alex.
Once more wiping his face, it felt as though a damp cloth had just been dragged across, placing more tears upon the drummer’s complexion. Odd strands of long hair clung forward, sealing themselves to his face. He’d been beating himself up for the past 6 hours as the condition didn’t change and it had really started to show…
“We know you didn’t deserve this at all…”
“It’s my fault you’re here…” he felt better for speaking it, for it was what he honestly believed, almost as if he had dug the blade within his own brother’s stomach.
The room was scattered with the sound of silence except for one noise…
That beep. The unmistakeable one of a life gone. Screaming he called out
“Teddy! Please! Stop Messing Around!”
It didn’t even matter.
He was already dead.
Wandering round, he searched for his friend, the keyboardist who had got a bit too drunk and lost his way. Calling out, Teddy became slowly more aware of someone behind him, eventually turning around:
“Ali?”
“Give us yer money, mate.”
“I don’t have any.” He was being honest
“Y’ur a rock star, you’re loaded!”
“I really don’t”
“Stop fucking around.”
They found him in the alley, knife still wedged deep within the gushing stomach wound, he’d barely been breathing as his pulse whispered it’s goodbye. 30 more seconds and he would have been lost from this world and left alone to wander the next…
“Teds…please…” His head fell to the bed as he sobbed, “Please…for me…for the guys…for yourself.” It was the first time that Dan had been left with his brother. People seemed to be constantly ferrying around, changing bandages, checking his vitals…little tasks that could distract me from how close to death he was.
Clinging to his brother’s hand, he never wanted to let go. He wished to turn back time and stop him leaving the tour bus, to have gone instead; anything to stop this.
“Why couldn’t it be me? If I could I’d swap places with you in an instant.”
“Dan, it’s not your fault…”
“Yes! Yes it is! I asked him to go out instead of me!” he turned and snapped at Ed, who backed out of the room, almost silently whispering at Alex.
Once more wiping his face, it felt as though a damp cloth had just been dragged across, placing more tears upon the drummer’s complexion. Odd strands of long hair clung forward, sealing themselves to his face. He’d been beating himself up for the past 6 hours as the condition didn’t change and it had really started to show…
“We know you didn’t deserve this at all…”
“It’s my fault you’re here…” he felt better for speaking it, for it was what he honestly believed, almost as if he had dug the blade within his own brother’s stomach.
The room was scattered with the sound of silence except for one noise…
That beep. The unmistakeable one of a life gone. Screaming he called out
“Teddy! Please! Stop Messing Around!”
It didn’t even matter.
He was already dead.