Forever's Not Supposed to End

Nathan's point of view

The empty bottle rolled away from my hand and across the bathroom floor where I was laying flat on my back.

I blinked hard and the room span again. I dragged myself into a sitting position and my stomach churned.

I forced myself not to throw up.

I knew if I was going to succeed tonight, I needed to keep down everything that was in my stomach.

My phone rang again and I hit the reject button, sending it to voicemail.

I reached for my bag of goodies and pulled out another pack of painkillers, popping a couple, then cracking open my second bottle of vodka to wash them down.

I was done.

I wanted it over.

I couldn't watch Matthew suffer any more. I couldn't stand not being able to help him.

I finished the pack of painkillers and started on the next, my fifth pack.

I was comfortably numb, just filling my body with substances I knew would eventually force me into unconsciousness, then hopefully, further.

My phone rang again and I silenced it.

After a few seconds it bleeped, telling me I had a text message. It was from Matthew. With a pang of guilt I opened it and read his words.

I love you, baby brother.

Fresh tears rolled down my cheeks and a painful lump rose in my throat.

I threw my phone against the wall as hard as I could and it broke, sending pieces of plastic flying in every direction.

I forced another mouthful of vodka down my throat. I could feel myself starting to drift out of consciousness. I knew I just needed a few more pills, and a little more to drink and I'd be there.

I didn't just take a few more, I swallowed the remaining three packs, just for good measure, an extra 60 tablets joining the ones already making me numb.

I thought about my twin.

About how we used to kick the shit out of each other when we were kids, we hated each other.

I thought about how we found music together and learned to get along.

I thought about the last show we played, the grin on his face.

A smile I'd never see again.

I couldn't accept Matthew looking so different. And I couldn't accept watching him struggle to do basic tasks, and watching him in unimaginable pain.

I swigged from the vodka again. It didn't even burn my throat as it went down any more, I was so numb.

I could feel sleep coming. Determined, I drank again, until there was hardly anything left.

I curled into a ball on the bathroom floor, staring up at the room, my cheek pressed against the cold tiles.

My eyes slipped closed but I forced them to open once more.

The last part of my plan.

I pulled a crumpled photograph from my jeans pocket. I wanted it to be the last thing I saw.

It was a photograph of Matthew and I, on our first day of elementary school. You could hardly tell us apart, even I only knew by the freckle on Matthew's cheek. Stood between us holding both our hands was our Mom, looking proud as could be.

I set it on the bathroom floor beside me and stared at it, half a smile on my lips, waiting for my medicine to take me away from this place, so I could be with my Mom and wait for Matthew to join us.

Hayley's point of view

"What if... what if he's at my apartment?" said Matthew, a slow realisation dawning on him.

"I'll go and check," I said quickly, grabbing my car keys from the coffee table, Matthew and I were sat on the couch, worrying together.

Matthew was convinced Nathan was up to 'something bad'.

"Can you give him something from me? If he's there?" said Matthew, looking up at me hopefully.

"Of course. What is it?" I asked, pulling my shoes on.

He leaned over and hugged me tightly, I could feel his body trembling.

"Give him that from me," he said quietly.

"I will do, I promise."

I forced a weak smile and quickly left the apartment, driving the short distance to Matthew's apartment building in record time.

I sprinted up the six flights of stairs, the elevator was still out of order.

Panting, I reached the apartment and shoved my key into the lock, opening the door.

For some reason I was expecting to find Nathan sitting on the couch watching TV or something.

He wasn't. The apartment was deathly silent and pitch dark... all except for a faint sliver of light shining from underneath the bathroom door.

A feeling of cold dread ran down my spine.

"Nathan?" I said cautiously, approaching the door.

I reached it and knocked gently.

"Nathan, you in there?"

I was silent for a few seconds, then tried to turn the handle. It was locked from the inside.

I pummelled on the door with my fist.

"Nathan! Open up!" I yelled.

"H-hayley?" he mumbled weakly from inside the room.

He sounded like he was in a bad way.

"Yes. It's Me. It's Hayley. Can you let me in?"

My words were met with a sickening silence from the other side of the door.

I knocked again. The lock clicked and I flung the door open.

"What the... fuck?!" I spluttered, met with empty pill packets, bottles of liquor, and Nathan hunched on the ground, curled in a ball, hair all gone.

"I did something bad," he mumbled, clutching his stomach, face contorted in pain.

I didn't even say anything, I just launched into autopilot from my medical training.

Looking around at the mess of packaging I could see he'd swallowed at least 150 pills, just over the counter painkillers... but in this quantity? bad news. Especially with the two large empty vodka bottles.

"You need to throw up, now," I told him, puling him into a sitting position in front of the toilet.

His head lolled uselessly to the side, eyes staring blankly as he drifted in and out of consciousness.

"Nathan? Talk to me?" he was passing out.

I ran into the kitchen and grabbed a glass, filled it half with salt and half with water then forced Nathan to drink the salty mush.

It took only a few seconds for his body to start rejecting everything he had consumed that night.

I crouched next to his quivering form as he puked into the toilet bowl, his entire body convulsing. Half dissolved pills and a lot of clear liquid. Probably enough to actually kill him, had it had time to properly take effect.

Once he was done he continued to retch, tears streaming down his face. I rinsed the glass at the tap and helped him sip the water slowly.

I was shaking violently as I handed him the glass to drink from on his own.

He dropped the glass to the ground and let it shatter, then clung desperately to my clothing.

"Don't tell Matthew," he spluttered, bloodshot eyes pleading with me, still clutching his stomach in agony with one hand and my shoulder with the other.

I just nodded, my hand rubbing his back gently.

"I'm such a FUCK UP!" he screamed, tilting backwards violently and trying to bash his head against the floor.

I grabbed him and tried to restrain him as he thrashed around, determined to damage his head.

"Please calm down Nathan," I said quietly.

He stopped what he was doing, and stared up at me. There was a few moments where the only sound was his ragged breathing.

"How are you feeling?" I asked, again quietly.

"My stomach hurts," he muttered, closing his eyes.

"Can you move? I think we should get you on the couch to sleep this off."

"No. Here's good," he sighed.

I stood up and left the room, returning with a pillow and a blanket.

Crouching beside him, I lifted his head gently and pushed the pillow underneath, then draped the blanket over him.

"Mmm thanks," he murmured.

I remembered what Matthew had said to me as I was leaving.

"Hey, I have something for you, from Matthew," I told him, my heart was still pounding a mile a minute, I was so scared I had been too late.

"What's that?" he said weakly, not opening his eyes.

I couldn't hug him, as I was sitting and he was laying down, so I did the next best thing.

I leaned over and gently kissed his clammy forehead.

He smiled.

"Tell Matthew he's a faggot."

"That's not very nice!" I scolded, but smirked at the same time, relief flooding through me as I realised Nathan would be totally fine. I'd got here in time. This time.

"I'm not very nice."

"Shut up and sleep Nathan. And about before.... I think Matthew needs to know this happened, but not right now, so I'll tell him you're fine," I promised, pulling out my cellphone and dialling Matthew.

Nathan reached his hand towards me and I took it, holding it for him as he fell asleep and I reassured Matthew over the phone that everything was fine.

I noticed a crumpled photograph on the bathroom floor next to Nathan's sleeping form. I picked it up and looked at it. It was the twins, no older than five, holding hands with a woman who only could have been their mother. A single tear escaped my eye and I wiped it away.

I truly believed Nathan intended to kill himself tonight. And that terrified me.

Nathan was breaking. I needed to stop him, before it was too late.