Categories > Celebrities > Panic! At The Disco
Shaky Hands and Blurry Vision
0 reviewsGot a prompt for this by alexghoulskarth on tumblr so if you like this thank her! Okay, well this has the word rape in it so dont read it if idk because i have no idea where i was going with that.
1Moving
Ryan jumped off the bus, and ran up the little stone path to his house. He fumbled with his key ring, not able to find the one for the front door. Getting the right key is hard to do when your hands are shaking.
He finally got the house key and unlocked it, throwing the door open and closed and tossing his bag on the floor. Today was not a good day. Oh no, not good at all.
Ryan stumbled to the bathroom, tears blurring everything and threatening to spill. What happened, you ask?
Well, first, he woke up. That was pretty disappointing. Then he got on the bus, where he had his legs kicked out from underneath him and was punched in the stomach.
Then he got to school.
"Emo!" One girl whispered.
"Faggot." Another sneered.
"Fat ass!" This one confused Ryan. He wasn't even close to fat. In fact, he hadn't had a full meal in two weeks.
"Hey, fag. How's your boyfriend doing?" One jock shouted.
He knew why they did it. He tried not to let it get to him...But that's a lot like asking your rapist to not rape you. Yea, it doesn't work. The damage will be done.
So Ryan sat down on the cold tile floor in his tiny bathroom, and only then did he let himself start crying. Maybe I shouldn't be alive, he thought. Maybe everyone else is right.
Buzz. Buzz. His phone felt off the counter and onto the floor next to him, telling him that he got a text from Brendon.
Hey, ry. You wanna go see a movie tonight?
Ryan turned the phone off, and stood up, gripping the counter with one hand for support and using the other to shift through a cabinet and find his razor. He still couldnt really see much, though he stopped crying. "Ow-ugh. Dammit." He cussed himself out under his breath and ripped his hand out to inspect the damage he had accidentally inflicted on himself. A few small cuts to his finger weren't that bad.
Well, not as bad as what he was about to do.
He glanced at the cabinet, back at his hands, and watched himself in the mirror as he took the razor from the shelf, and slid down onto the floor.
I'm worthless, he repeated in his head. I'm not useful for anything. The razor danced around on his skin, ever so lightly. Then it pressed down. This repeated for awhile. Dance. Cut. Dance. Cut. He felt light headed. He knew he should have stopped earlier.
Too late now.
Meanwhile, Brendon paced around his bedroom, sweating. Why hadn't Ryan answered his texts? He always answers. Always! Maybe I should go check on him... He thought. Then he nodded and jogged downstairs, grabbing his house key and almost knocking over his mother on his way out. "No. No, no, no. No." He mumbled nervously.
"Woah! Brendon, where are you going?!" She asked.
"Not now mom! This is bad!" He shouted, running down the street and to Ryan's house.
It was about five minutes after he left that he got to his house, but it felt like he had been running for an hour. He looked like it, too, with his clothes sticky and his hair wet with sweat. He ran up to the door and knocked, but got impatient and tried opening it anyways. And what a pleasant suprise he got to see it was still unlocked.
He ran through the kitchen, and the living room. Then he checked Ryan's bedroom, and his father's old bedroom. That meant his was in the bathroom.
Brendon ran around the corner and into the bathroom. He felt himself die a bit inside.
His friend, his best friend and half alive on the bathroom floor, cuts all over his arms. "Ryan! Ryan, man, you gotta wake up." He begged, shaking the other boy. "Ryan. Ryan! Please!" His voice cracked, and he was already crying. "Ryan... Ryan, no! You... You have to... I love you, you cant... Do.."
"Bren... D-"
"Ryan? Oh my god, Ryan, why did you.." He gasped, but then something more important dawned in him. "Holy shit, I need to call 911. Fuck, Ryan." Ryan groaned. "No, shhh." He rubbed Ryan's sholder while he dialed the number.
"911 what's your emergency?"
"Hello? Oh my god... My friend, he... He's bleeding, and, oh my god he was almost dead when I found him. Jesus christ, you need to save him."
"Okay sir-"
"Shit, shit he's unconscious again. You need to help him, oh my god." Then he hung up. This wasn't happening. This was Ryan, for God's sake. This isn't fair!
He grabbed Ryan and pulled him into a hug, more or less to help him, not his unconscious friend.
It seemed like forever but the EMT came.
Brendon watched as they took Ryan. He watched as they scrambled about the hospital. He watched as they hook Ryan up and tried to help his arms. He watched as Ryan woke up, and as he almost had a panic attack. Ryan's worst fear was waking up in a hospital.
"Ryan..."
The other looked up, and then he got really confused. "Bren.. What- why am I hear? Why are you-" Then he looked down at his arm, "Oh."
That was it for Brendon. Just a simple "oh." It was so, so small. It was so weak. Ryan sounded so broken and disappointed. He didn't know when but tears had started falling and wetting the hospital bed sheets. His friend was so fucking hurt and he never realized.
It was a minute or two before Brendon choked out "Ryan- Just... Why?"
"I couldn't handle it, Brendon- I... All the names, all the pain- It's too much, Brendon."
"Oh, Ryan.." Brendon muttered, pulling himself out of his chair and hugging Ryan, "Dont you ever, ever try and leave me. I'll get you through this- this shit. We just have to talk to the school, and they can make it stop. Ryan, please... Just... Just dont do this again." His voice cracked at the last bit. "I love you, Ryan. You can't leave."
"I- Bren... I'll try- to- to not let it... Get to me- so... Much. But its so hard, B. Its too hard..." He hicupped out. Brendon just nodded, closing his eyes and breathing in the smell of Ryan's hair. Savoring every little bit of him, because it was so painfully obvious that lives are easy to get rid of for him, now, and he didn't like that. "Brendon?"
"What? What is it? Are you uncomfortable? I can-"
Ryan cut off his stammering, "Shut up!"
"I can go if you-"
"Just... Just get me out of here. I wanna go home."
"Ryan, I... Okay. But I promise, I can help you Ryan. I swear-"
"Okay, okay. You'll help me. Thank you."
"You're welcome."
A/N ok I know the ending is super quick but I needed to get it finished. I will be changing it and making it 100% better, and it'll be better by Saturday. Which means I'll get it posted late tomorrow.
Thanks for reading!
He finally got the house key and unlocked it, throwing the door open and closed and tossing his bag on the floor. Today was not a good day. Oh no, not good at all.
Ryan stumbled to the bathroom, tears blurring everything and threatening to spill. What happened, you ask?
Well, first, he woke up. That was pretty disappointing. Then he got on the bus, where he had his legs kicked out from underneath him and was punched in the stomach.
Then he got to school.
"Emo!" One girl whispered.
"Faggot." Another sneered.
"Fat ass!" This one confused Ryan. He wasn't even close to fat. In fact, he hadn't had a full meal in two weeks.
"Hey, fag. How's your boyfriend doing?" One jock shouted.
He knew why they did it. He tried not to let it get to him...But that's a lot like asking your rapist to not rape you. Yea, it doesn't work. The damage will be done.
So Ryan sat down on the cold tile floor in his tiny bathroom, and only then did he let himself start crying. Maybe I shouldn't be alive, he thought. Maybe everyone else is right.
Buzz. Buzz. His phone felt off the counter and onto the floor next to him, telling him that he got a text from Brendon.
Hey, ry. You wanna go see a movie tonight?
Ryan turned the phone off, and stood up, gripping the counter with one hand for support and using the other to shift through a cabinet and find his razor. He still couldnt really see much, though he stopped crying. "Ow-ugh. Dammit." He cussed himself out under his breath and ripped his hand out to inspect the damage he had accidentally inflicted on himself. A few small cuts to his finger weren't that bad.
Well, not as bad as what he was about to do.
He glanced at the cabinet, back at his hands, and watched himself in the mirror as he took the razor from the shelf, and slid down onto the floor.
I'm worthless, he repeated in his head. I'm not useful for anything. The razor danced around on his skin, ever so lightly. Then it pressed down. This repeated for awhile. Dance. Cut. Dance. Cut. He felt light headed. He knew he should have stopped earlier.
Too late now.
Meanwhile, Brendon paced around his bedroom, sweating. Why hadn't Ryan answered his texts? He always answers. Always! Maybe I should go check on him... He thought. Then he nodded and jogged downstairs, grabbing his house key and almost knocking over his mother on his way out. "No. No, no, no. No." He mumbled nervously.
"Woah! Brendon, where are you going?!" She asked.
"Not now mom! This is bad!" He shouted, running down the street and to Ryan's house.
It was about five minutes after he left that he got to his house, but it felt like he had been running for an hour. He looked like it, too, with his clothes sticky and his hair wet with sweat. He ran up to the door and knocked, but got impatient and tried opening it anyways. And what a pleasant suprise he got to see it was still unlocked.
He ran through the kitchen, and the living room. Then he checked Ryan's bedroom, and his father's old bedroom. That meant his was in the bathroom.
Brendon ran around the corner and into the bathroom. He felt himself die a bit inside.
His friend, his best friend and half alive on the bathroom floor, cuts all over his arms. "Ryan! Ryan, man, you gotta wake up." He begged, shaking the other boy. "Ryan. Ryan! Please!" His voice cracked, and he was already crying. "Ryan... Ryan, no! You... You have to... I love you, you cant... Do.."
"Bren... D-"
"Ryan? Oh my god, Ryan, why did you.." He gasped, but then something more important dawned in him. "Holy shit, I need to call 911. Fuck, Ryan." Ryan groaned. "No, shhh." He rubbed Ryan's sholder while he dialed the number.
"911 what's your emergency?"
"Hello? Oh my god... My friend, he... He's bleeding, and, oh my god he was almost dead when I found him. Jesus christ, you need to save him."
"Okay sir-"
"Shit, shit he's unconscious again. You need to help him, oh my god." Then he hung up. This wasn't happening. This was Ryan, for God's sake. This isn't fair!
He grabbed Ryan and pulled him into a hug, more or less to help him, not his unconscious friend.
It seemed like forever but the EMT came.
Brendon watched as they took Ryan. He watched as they scrambled about the hospital. He watched as they hook Ryan up and tried to help his arms. He watched as Ryan woke up, and as he almost had a panic attack. Ryan's worst fear was waking up in a hospital.
"Ryan..."
The other looked up, and then he got really confused. "Bren.. What- why am I hear? Why are you-" Then he looked down at his arm, "Oh."
That was it for Brendon. Just a simple "oh." It was so, so small. It was so weak. Ryan sounded so broken and disappointed. He didn't know when but tears had started falling and wetting the hospital bed sheets. His friend was so fucking hurt and he never realized.
It was a minute or two before Brendon choked out "Ryan- Just... Why?"
"I couldn't handle it, Brendon- I... All the names, all the pain- It's too much, Brendon."
"Oh, Ryan.." Brendon muttered, pulling himself out of his chair and hugging Ryan, "Dont you ever, ever try and leave me. I'll get you through this- this shit. We just have to talk to the school, and they can make it stop. Ryan, please... Just... Just dont do this again." His voice cracked at the last bit. "I love you, Ryan. You can't leave."
"I- Bren... I'll try- to- to not let it... Get to me- so... Much. But its so hard, B. Its too hard..." He hicupped out. Brendon just nodded, closing his eyes and breathing in the smell of Ryan's hair. Savoring every little bit of him, because it was so painfully obvious that lives are easy to get rid of for him, now, and he didn't like that. "Brendon?"
"What? What is it? Are you uncomfortable? I can-"
Ryan cut off his stammering, "Shut up!"
"I can go if you-"
"Just... Just get me out of here. I wanna go home."
"Ryan, I... Okay. But I promise, I can help you Ryan. I swear-"
"Okay, okay. You'll help me. Thank you."
"You're welcome."
A/N ok I know the ending is super quick but I needed to get it finished. I will be changing it and making it 100% better, and it'll be better by Saturday. Which means I'll get it posted late tomorrow.
Thanks for reading!
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