The Plan

The Plan

Written by dornish queen

Characters: left ambiguous

 DO NOT READ UNTIL YOU HAVE READ THE TRIGGER WARNINGS; IF YOU ARE SENSITIVE TO ANYTHING IN THE WARNINGS, I STRONGLY ADVISE YOU NOT TO READ

Trigger Warnings:  implied suicide attempt, depression, mental illness, seeking help

Notes:  I couldn’t think of a better title for this one. No character models were used; no celebrity featured.  I was going to write in Pedro as the boyfriend, but with the topic being dark, I didn’t want to associate this with anyone specific.  So, characters are ambiguous.  I am considering discontinuing this series.  I feel it may get too dark at times.

A/N:  I feel like I’ve overcome so much of these feelings in that past.  And I have been good for so long, that I feel like a failure when they come back. I feel like I will be taking a break from the “melancholy” stories after this one.

 

It had only taken you minutes to drive to the beach.  You parked your car and made your way toward the pier.  The sound of the waves growing louder the closer you got.  You had thought of this in detail for so long, it’s as calming as you imagined it to be.  As you walk down the pier, you see families getting ready to go home after a day of play, couples enjoying a stroll together.  You reach the end of the pier and lean forward against the wood railing, the gentle sloshing of the water below you is so soothing.  Closing your eyes, you just listen and smile.  The sun is low and the sky around it is painted in swirls of deep warm orange. You feel nothing but peace here and you gaze out and watch the sun drop lower and lower.  Your last sunset and there is no pain.  Only the sense of relief fills every part of your being. Peace.

As the sun touches the horizon, you see that everyone had almost left for the day, only a few remain like you to watch the sunset.  You smile at faces of these wonderful people.  They look so content.  You know you have to wait until everyone leaves before you do it.  Until then, you just enjoy the peacefulness of your surroundings.

You feel your cellphone buzzing in your pocket.  It momentarily interrupts your thoughts and a small ping in your chest.  Push it away and just watch the sunset.  The sun is almost gone.

The phone is going off again.  This time you answer it.  His is the voice that sings to your soul.  You tell him where you are and how fantastic the sky looks and how the sun is almost down. 

“I love you.  Please come home.”

“But it’s nice here. I like it here.” You continue to gaze at the horizon. The sun is gone.

“I know baby.  Just start walking back.  I’ll stay on the phone with you.” 

A wave of cold washes over you and you feel the tightness in your chest and the pull.  The tears pool in your eyes and start to distort your vision.

“Baby?” you say, barely holding it together.

“I’m here.  I’m not hanging up.  Just follow my voice.”

Your feet begin to take you back to the front of the pier and back to your car.  His voice leading the way back to you.  You sit down in the front seat of your car with your forehead resting on the steering wheel.  The gravity of the situation hitting you. 

You manage to drive home safely and begin to put the key into the front door as the door open with whirring force.  You feel his arms around you immediately.  His embrace is tight and he breathes heavily, trembling, his face pressed to your head. 

Quickly, he pulls you inside and grabs your purse and rummages through it. 

“Where is it?” He says frantically, dumping the contents onto the floor. “Your gun! Where is it!”

“I don’t have it!” You grab his hand away from your stuff and try to collect them all in your bag. “I told you I didn’t get it!”

“Then why did you go there, ALONE!” He shouts out of frustration. You hear the agony in his voice, in the way he’s looking at you and you know this is all your fault.  Everything is your fault.

“I don’t know!” you cried.

Your chest tightens and everything feels so heavy.  Your falling and there’s nothing left you can do except to let it happen.  It’s no use.  What’s the point anymore? You feel yourself being lifted before collapsing completely on the floor. And then you are on your bed, curling into your pillow.

“I can’t do this anymore…. I want it to stop…” as you continue to sob. You feel his hand comforting you, always. Holding your back close against him.  He’s got you. But you feel the guilt build.  And it hurts you more. “You need to let me go.  I just want to go.  It will be better.  Everything will be better.”

Moments like this are unbearable.  And you wonder how much longer can you continue doing this.  To yourself and to him.  This is not living when every moment you feel yourself dying inside.

 “I want you to let me take you somewhere.” His body begins to tremble behind you as you feel his tears hit the side of your neck. “I don’t want to see you suffering anymore.”

“I don’t want to go to the hospital.” You say as you feel your body tighten up some more.

“It’s not like that, baby.” He soothes your head with his hand. “There will be people there that know what you are going through and they’ll be able to stabilize you. And they can help me, help you better. Just think of it like urgent care. Okay, baby.  Urgent care for your beautiful brain.”

You turn to face him on the bed, your face a wet mess.  But all you see is him smiling at you, his eyes red, but still beautiful.

“But people will look at me funny.”

“Well, they’ll have to say I look funny too.” He says reassuringly, wiping the tears from your face.

“But you don’t look funny.  You’re pretty handsome.” You said quietly, a half giggle in between sobs.

He chuckles quietly as he kisses you tenderly on the lips. “Are you ready to go?”

You hold on to him tight, feeling his shoulder against your face and you silently nod.

10/1/2020

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