Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-24996913-20140908044311

It's a rough time for me right now. Yesterday, after a day filled with constant laughter and talk of girl's we imagined sleeping with, my best friend committed suicide. It was shocking; much too shocking for anyone to wrap their head around. He was always so happy. Nothing seemed to discourage a smile on his face. Hell, even when he saw someone in distress, he went out of his way to make sure he cheered them up. He was a class act; the life of the party so to speak. It didn't make sense for him to have killed himself. For what? I was his closest friend. He told me everything, and yet, somehow I missed the depression and never-ending thoughts of death? No, he wasn't like that.

Our town was especially known for heightened suicide rates. Scientists claimed it was the environment; the constant drizzles, grey skies, foggy outcast, and sunless days. I think the scientists are full of shit. How could you blame the weather for people taking it upon themselves to dangle from their father's belt, carefully tied around the bannister of their stairwell? No amount of rain, fog, or cloudy days would cause me to do such a thing.

Still, the fact remained that my friend had been consumed by the scientist's hypothesis. He was now the poster-boy of suicides, causing an outrage within our small town of 1,520 people. Everyone loved Dustin. He was there for them, he was helpful, and most importantly, he cared. But... he's dead now. His body thrown in an abyss he will never crawl out of, breathing in the air of life. He is gone.

Most nights, it's hard for me to sleep. I lay in bed, the cold breeze from my open window gushing in, as I stare up at the ceiling. The darkness eats away at my emotions, causing me to question myself and how bad a friend I must've been to Dustin. The worse part about it is, the thing that will always weigh down on my conscience, I could've stopped it. I could've been there for him as he had for me countless times in the past, but... I wasn't. I was over some girl's house I saw no future with, discussing futile shit that had no real significance, as my friend wrote the last letter anyone would read from him.

It was much too hard for me to come to terms with that realization. I mean, to think I was enjoying myself as he fell from that stairwell... it was debilitating. So I grabbed a pillow to silence my own poisonous thoughts, placing it over my face before I screamed into it with every ounce of air within my lungs. My screams did little to alleviate the hurt I felt; it did little to mask the sensation of betrayal beginning to inch into my mind, creating tiny folds on my forehead as tears streamed down my face.

"I'm sorry," I mouthed, clenching my jaw as my closed fist bounced off of the mattress, violently.

That's when I heard it.

At first it was faint, almost inaudible, but once my hectic breathing died down and my tears soaked into the pillow now beneath my head, I knew I wasn't imagining it. It was the sound of wheezy, out of breath breathing. This realization caused goosebumps to rise as my head shot up from the bed, and I stared into the darkness surrounding me. As the darkness is known to do, my eyes seemed to see movement within the dark, humanoid shadows and small gnarled things scattering about.

I hesitated to remove myself from the safety of my bed, resorting back to childhood ignorance in hopes the monster in the dark couldn't touch me if I remained within the impenetrable comforter. Turns out, I didn't have to step out of bed.

It came to me.

Slowly but surely, it approached my bed, the moonlight's illumination grazing across its face as it stepped closer. Horrified, I remained silent. All I could do is watch as it ended its journey at my side, a blank look within its eyes devoid of irises.

"Join him," it said, its voice hoarse almost as if it had a severe case of strep throat.

I remained silent, trembling as I stared at the bipedal creature. It wasn't just blackness, it was nothing at all. It gave off no odor, its features were indistinguishable from the sheer darkness surrounding it, and it cast no shadow. That in itself was horrifying to acknowledge.

"Join him," it repeated, its arms reaching out to me.

I didn't pull away from its grip; I didn't shout at the top of my lungs, waking my parents in a last ditch effort to escape the creatures grasp. Instead, I remained silent, shock completely abolishing any free will I had. Before I knew it, it released me, sitting me down in front of my computer screen. The modem powered up, without any manual pressing of the power button, and the blue light from the screen blinded my eyes, causing my pupils to shrink on site. It forced my hands to the keyboard once the computer loaded, revealing the home screen.

"Write," it said, maliciously, as it breathed its hot air into my ear.

I resisted its instructions, shaking my head in refusal, but what felt like its lips pressed gently against my ear. Grimly it whispered,

"If you don't write, I won't stop after you. I'll take that pillow back there, walk into your parents room, and place it ever so gently atop their faces. Do you want that?"

I swallowed hard; rage, fear, and sadness surging through me as I imagined the gruesome scene.

"No, please don't," I said, pleading.

It pointed at the screen with its jet black hand.

"Write," it said, sternly.

"What?" I questioned, opening up a blank word document.

A bone chilling laugh pierced through the air, causing my heart to stop momentarily.

"Your last words," it said.

I stared blankly at the screen for a moment before I began typing.

"Dear mom and dad,

I'm sorry you have to read this, but I don't want you to think it was your fault. I just want you guys to know that I love you, and everything is okay."

Once I placed the period at the end of the sentence, the being grabbed me, throwing me to my bed aggressively. Just as I had done earlier to mute my cries, the pillow within its hands fell upon my face, engulfing me in darkness. At first, I remained still, accepting my fate with open arms in exchange for my family's well being, but once my lungs emptied completely of air, craving even the slightest ration of oxygen, I began to convulse, fighting to remove myself from the black hole pulling me down. .. pulling me down into nothingness. 