I Don't Wanna Feel a Thing Anymore.

Present Day

Beau’s POV

I was glad that Kellin had gone out. He needed to. I was getting worried, though, because it was almost eight o’clock and I was just getting home. Valerie had been out all day, too. I fumbled with my key to go inside, but I realized Kellin had left the door unlocked. Good, that meant he was here. I walked in, getting more and more nervous. A part of me was saying, “Stop it Beau, you’re just being paranoid.”, while another part screamed for me to go check on my friend. He could have hurt himself.

“Kellin?” I called out in the direction of his bedroom. No reply. Maybe he was asleep? I felt the panic rising in my throat. I ran down the hallway and slammed into his door, trying to open it. It was locked.

“Kellin!” I yelled desperately. “KELLIN!” I was screaming now, saying his name over and over again. He’s alright. Kellin is okay. I threw myself against the door repeatedly, feeling it begin to give way under the force of my body. I finally broke through, sending splinters and pieces of wood flying across the carpeted floor. What was left of the door fell off the hinges, not that I cared.

Kellin was laying on the bed, his face slack and emotionless. I was terrified to approach him.

“He’s just sleeping.” I whispered to myself. But in the back of my head, I knew I was dead wrong. I crept towards his still form nervously, sitting down on the edge of the bed and placing my hand on his cheek. His pale skin was inhumanly cold.

“Hey Kellin, wake up.” I whispered. I ignored what I knew. He couldn’t be dead. I stroked his cheek with my thumb. “Hey, wake up, it’ll be okay.” I murmured. I saw a tear fall down onto his nose. I hadn’t realized I was crying. “Hey, Kellin, I’m home.” I said more forcefully. I sounded crazy. I heard the desperation beginning to creep into my voice. I laughed to myself, which came out sounding slightly hysterical. “Kells, wake up!” I placed my other hand on his forehead. Cold.

“Kellin, wake the fuck up!” I was shaking. “You cannot fucking die on me!” My voice was raising. “Kellin fucking Quinn! You don’t die on me! Wake up!” I screeched at his still figure. I wanted so badly for his crystal blue eyes to open, just for one last time. But it was hopeless. I gathered his lifeless figure in my arms.

I sat like this for almost three hours. I sobbed into his hair, touching his cold skin. The little heat that had been left there from his life was now gone. I pushed his hair out of his face, whimpering. Why? Why did I have to be attached to everyone who died?

When I was a teenager, my best friend killed himself. We were only 17. And now Vic and Kellin were both gone. Why?

As I sat there on that bed for the last time, holding my best friend’s body, I swear I saw two dents on the edge of the bed. My eyes were probably playing tricks on me, but I promise I saw flashes of dark hair and bright eyes. I directed my face upwards and forced a smile.

“Rest in peace, my friends.” I whispered, saluting the sky. Kellin and Vic were reunited at last.