after tom shut the door on tord, tord didnt leave for about an hour. he banged on the door and said
"tom! thomas, answer me!"
"im sorry!"
"thomas! come back!"
but he didnt say the one thing that would make tom change his mind.
he didnt say three simple words that could save toms life.
he didnt say
"i love you."
tom had to make it end, so he whispered loud enough for tord to hear,
"tord, just go. i will be fine."
even tom wasnt sure if this was a lie or not. though he probably wouldnt be fine with such a broken heart.
he was shattered.
he had never been sadder.
its was times like these where there was no reason for contemplation.
"promise?" tord said between quiet sobs.
"yes."
and with that, tord was gone.
finally.
now it was just tom, right back where he started.
staring at the phone and the gun.
even though he swore to not touch the box, tom was never able to keep any promises.
he knew the phone wasnt an option, but he had it there to comfort him. to make him think it was okay even though he knew it was the end.
he kept it there as a sign of hope.
even though he knew today was the day.
tom sat there for hours, sobbing, hunched over his desk just crying. tears catapulting towards the desk and exploding, making a small pool. the smell of salt filled the air.
contemplating if he should sit at his desk longer and stare at the gun, or just get it ovet with. this is what he wanted, wasnt it? just to leave without saying goodbye. its not like there was anyone to say goodbye to, since tord didnt seem to love him anymore.
since his parents didnt seem to care anymore.
since his sister didnt seem to care anymore.
since his brother didnt seem to care anymore.
since the california boy didnt seem to care anymore.
since
no one
seemed to care anymore.
tom pulled the string to the lamp on his desk, making it turn off. tom preferred the dark. his "daily tasks" took place in the dark. daily tasks were mostly thinking, crying and cutting. or listening to breezeblocks. he liked doing that.
it made him forget about all the things he hated. or all the things that hated him.
it made him focus on the lyrics, make him memorize the words better.
the meaning behind the song was beautiful, a unique prompt.
loving someone so much you would kill for them. even if it meant killing you.
that seemed like the situation tom was in.
why was it so hard to get over tord?
why dod he have to be the reason?
god, tom shouldnt have even called the hotline. dumb idea.
snapping out of his thoughts, he swiped the gun and phone off the table. he found a sheet of lined paper in a drawer and a sparkly blue gel pen. he liked blue. it was usually associated with the eemotion 'sad.'
in his small, sloppy but legible, handwriting he wrote,
dearest tord,