Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > You're No Longer With Us, But It Feels Like You Are
You're No Longer With Us, But It Feels Like You Are
0 reviewsWhen Pete died, Patrick lost everything. He could hardly speak anymore. Everyone though he was insane. Maybe they were right.
0Unrated
My new story. came up with the idea a few hours ago. It's Peterick, obviously :D
xoxo
Nikki
Patrick’s POV
I sighed and strolled back into my apartment. I opened the box containing his ashes and whispered to them gently.
“Pete, I want to talk to you” He sprang out of the box, his ghostly figure touching me, sending chills down my spine.
“I know, babe. You need to let me go. Find someone new…” he sighed.
“I could never do that to you, Pete. If I wasn’t so damn selfish I’d still have you. And we’d have our beautiful daughter too!” I said, breaking down in tears.
“Babes, I realize now that my ‘no sex, I’m pregnant’ rule was pushing it too far. I can understand why you cheated. It’s not even like you to do something like that. I thought I was a bad boyfriend, that’s why I put the gun to my head!” Pete sobbed, wrapping his ghostly arms around me. It had been a month, to the day since he died. It took me 3 days to figure out I could talk to him, but all we really did was fuck. We never really spoke. It was too hard.
“Sweetie, you did nothing wrong” I told him.
“I killed myself and our child! How is that NOT wrong?!” Pete screeched, diving back into the box that sat on the coffee table. His ashes. His home when he wasn’t with me. He place to think. I didn’t have one anymore though. Since he died I felt his presence everywhere I went, even when he was in his red wooden box with black bats carved on it. I was never alone.
Pete would always stay in the house. He never left. I mean, he was See through, with a ghostly outline. He was dead. Him randomly appearing outside wasn’t going to look odd at all, was it?
He sulked for hours. I went to bath. I sat in the tub for a while, thinking about whether I should just stick my head under the water and drown. It seemed like a good idea. I had never been great at decision making. I plunged my head under the water, the water flowing in my mouth and up my nose. I couldn’t breathe. My eyes were shut tight and it felt like my senses were fading.
“Patrick, you fuckin’ dick!” I heard a concerned voice yell. I could hear footsteps. I felt cold, ghostly arms around me, pulling my head out of the water. The arms –Pete’s arm’s – took me out of the water and set me down on a towel n the bathroom floor. He placed his hand on my neck, checking for a pulse, which of course, he found. I tried as hard as I could, but I just couldn’t find the strength to open my eyes.
xoxo
Nikki
Patrick’s POV
I sighed and strolled back into my apartment. I opened the box containing his ashes and whispered to them gently.
“Pete, I want to talk to you” He sprang out of the box, his ghostly figure touching me, sending chills down my spine.
“I know, babe. You need to let me go. Find someone new…” he sighed.
“I could never do that to you, Pete. If I wasn’t so damn selfish I’d still have you. And we’d have our beautiful daughter too!” I said, breaking down in tears.
“Babes, I realize now that my ‘no sex, I’m pregnant’ rule was pushing it too far. I can understand why you cheated. It’s not even like you to do something like that. I thought I was a bad boyfriend, that’s why I put the gun to my head!” Pete sobbed, wrapping his ghostly arms around me. It had been a month, to the day since he died. It took me 3 days to figure out I could talk to him, but all we really did was fuck. We never really spoke. It was too hard.
“Sweetie, you did nothing wrong” I told him.
“I killed myself and our child! How is that NOT wrong?!” Pete screeched, diving back into the box that sat on the coffee table. His ashes. His home when he wasn’t with me. He place to think. I didn’t have one anymore though. Since he died I felt his presence everywhere I went, even when he was in his red wooden box with black bats carved on it. I was never alone.
Pete would always stay in the house. He never left. I mean, he was See through, with a ghostly outline. He was dead. Him randomly appearing outside wasn’t going to look odd at all, was it?
He sulked for hours. I went to bath. I sat in the tub for a while, thinking about whether I should just stick my head under the water and drown. It seemed like a good idea. I had never been great at decision making. I plunged my head under the water, the water flowing in my mouth and up my nose. I couldn’t breathe. My eyes were shut tight and it felt like my senses were fading.
“Patrick, you fuckin’ dick!” I heard a concerned voice yell. I could hear footsteps. I felt cold, ghostly arms around me, pulling my head out of the water. The arms –Pete’s arm’s – took me out of the water and set me down on a towel n the bathroom floor. He placed his hand on my neck, checking for a pulse, which of course, he found. I tried as hard as I could, but I just couldn’t find the strength to open my eyes.
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