FicWad

I pushed the door open and stepped into the darkness. He froze once we heard me enter the room. "Hey, sweetie." I calmed closing the door behind me. I couldn't see him for the room was pitch black but he said with his hoarse voice "Hi...haven't you ever heard of knocking?" I paused for a minute then said "Sorry, I was just worried about you." He sighed dramatically. I put the needles in my left hand and gracefully hid them behind my back. Then I sat next to Peter on the bed. "I'm okay, really I am." He lied as he moved closer to me. I put my right arm around him and held him in a loose embrace. With my left hand I dropped three of the needles to the floor. With the remaining needle in hand I swung my left arm around him as if I were about to hug him tighter. Instead of a hug he felt a sharp pinch as the needle pierced his skin delivering the medication. Upon being pricked he froze then looked me in the eyes and whispered "You stupid bitch, I should have known you would have pulled something like this. You fucking whor---------No-----I love you so much. I would never have the guts to pull something like this. I love you. Greta I want you to know that I love you." He didn't even see me push the needle into his skin and yet he knew exactly what I had done. He reached over me and pulled a pen and paper from the nightstand. On the paper in big bold letters he wrote " I Love You!" "This will serve as my suicide note," he explained. I smiled weakly back at him. What had I just done? An overwhelming feeling of regret took hold of me. My heart was in my throat and I forced myself to restrain the tears. "Why the sad face sweetie pie? Everything is going to be okay." Soothed Peter as he held me closer. Tears began to stain my cheeks when I felt a sharp pain in my shoulder. I let out a tiny whimper then looked immediately at Pete for an explanation. "What? You didn't think I'd let you get off that easily, did you? If I'm going down I'm taking you with me." He scoffed. Peter had given me some of the medication. He had picked a needle up off the floor when he put his makeshift suicide note on the nightstand. "Peter, I love you." I said shakily. He didn't say anything back but he did hand me the pen and paper and motioned for me to write. With his help I began to write this quick assessment of my life with Pete Wentz. It wasn't until the end of chapter eleven that I felt the effects of the medication that pumped through my blood like a deadly virus. I fought the nausea and dizziness in order to complete this. Just moments ago Peter and I both picked the last two needles off the floor and injected ourselves with the final and deadly dose of the medication. I am pleased to tell you that we will be leaving this earth in the next few minutes. Peter and I are going to curl up our warm bed as we await death. Take care, and thank you for reading.

Peter and Greta died peacefully that night. They were left undisturbed for weeks until the sour stench of their rotting flesh escaped their lavish house. The sight of their slightly decayed bodies still holding each other in one final embrace greeted a neighbor who walked into the unlocked house to investigate. It was their choice, a choice they would not regret. As Flip would later say at their funeral "They let go of everything. They distanced themselves from everything in their lives only to realize that by distancing themselves they ended up closer. They made the choice to let go of everything but each other. I'm not a religious man. However, I do like to think that after letting go of their life-ravaged bodies their souls drifted hand in hand to the gates of heaven. Neither of them would appreciate our tears, so I am going to maintain my composure and walk away from them just as I did that night on the street corner. Just as it was fifteen years ago, we will part ways only to meet up again in the future. So until the future, peace out."