Real

Words: 1220
Warnings: Angsty af, implied mastrubation, major character death, suicide, mental health problems, psychological problems,…
AN: I wrote this at three in the morning and I didn't remember writing it when I woke up again. I really like how this turned out. It's some heavy stuff, so watch out.

I think we were three… Yeah. We were three when I came into his life. He had just moved into our street when he saw me. He immediately asked me to play with him, I could see something wrong with him. Otherwise he wouldn’t have seen me. He reached his hand out to me and smiled. “I’m Jonathan… What’s your name?” I didn’t know what to say. “What do you wanna call me?” I asked him and he looked at my clothes: a yellow sundress. “I wanna call you Sun, cause you look like the sun.”

We played all week. Every day I’d wait on his front porch. Then he took me into his house. When I told him I didn’t have a home, he told me he had enough space in his room for me to sleep there too. I was surprised to see his mother was okay with it. Seasons passed, summer turned into fall, fall turned into winter. We were playing in the snow when he looked at me and frowned. I was afraid he had suddenly stopped liking me. He looked at my clothes, I was wearing a yellow sundress.

Years later, we were 5, I got Jonathan in trouble. I told him to steal a donut with a maple glaze late at night. We snuck out our room and tiptoed to the kitchen. When Jonathan had opened the fridge his mom caught us. And while I tried to explain to her that it was all my fault, she ignored me. She looked right through me. I heard his parents yelling at him the following day. “You’re too old for this Jonathan!” His father had yelled at him before I heard the sound of skin against skin. Jonathan came out, holding his cheek. He shot me one last look and looked at my clothes: a yellow sundress.

For years he ignored me. At first I tried to follow him. But whenever he looked at me his gaze faded to somewhere else, as if he was afraid to look at me. After months of trying I buried myself in a shadow in his room. Sometimes before he went to sleep his eyes would still quickly flicker to the fading yellow of my sundress.

He grew up to be the cutest young fellow. And I have to admit, I didn’t look too bad either. One day, we must’ve been sixteen, he invited me into his life again. He was laying on his bed, his pants and boxers bunched up around his knees, and he moaned out MY name. I stood up. Something I hadn’t been able to do in years because I was too weak. I walked over to him and smiled before helping him out. He told me everything that had happened in the years he missed me. He also told me about the bullies at his school. “They’re awful, Sun. They’ve been after me since sixth grade…” he had whispered. And after I had told him where his father’s gun was, he buried his face in the fabric of my yellow sundress.

Jonathan took me to school, just like the good old days. I stayed with him through every class, whispering encouraging things in his ear. “You’re the one doing the right thing, they shouldn’t have wronged you…” His eyes were glazed over with tears all day. The bullies took note of his distress and during first break they pulled him to the bathroom. They started punching and kicking him. I couldn’t see my friend like this. I held his hand as he looked for comfort in my yellow sundress.

I lead him over to the door and held his hand as he locked it. I reminded him of the gun in his backpack. While he was taking it out I saw the bullies cower away in fear. “Just aim it at them and pull the trigger, my dear. It has a silencer, no one will hear us. We’re gonna be okay.” He seemed to focus on my words and looked at me before turning his gaze to the ones that had wronged him all these years. He held the gun up. The boys seemed to be petrified as Jonathan pulled the trigger. Their mouths were open but there was no sound coming out. After a few minutes everything was covered in blood and as he hugged me he realised, everything was covered except for my yellow sundress.

The cops took us away quickly after they found us, Jonathan’s body curled up in my arms. He was sobbing uncontrollably. At the police station his mother came to visit us. Because of Jonathan’s high status in the society and his mental health they agreed to let her talk to him first. When she came into the interrogation room Jonathan looked up in fear. The woman looked calm, but he and I both knew that that calm façade hid a raging storm. He stood up and his mother came up to him. “What happened sweetie…?” she asked in a honey sweet voice while holding her arms out to hug him. He stepped away and hissed at her with his hands held up in a defensive manner, not trusting anyone but me. He looked at me, calmed down and sat on the chair again, pushing his glasses back up his nose. I nodded at him, encouraging him to tell the truth. “Sun told me to…” he whispered, his voice broken. His mother dropped the act and went berserk. “It’s been ages since you talked of her! You were 5!” And as she kept on scolding him, he was burying his face in bodice of my yellow sundress.

I held his hand through the trail. The sentence: Not guilty because mental defects. He had talked to a lot of doctors and they all said the same thing: schizophrenic with psychopathic tendencies. They put him in the asylum, with only one visit a month. It was supposed to help him, to get rid of me, but he didn’t want me to leave. The doctors made him feel awful. They put him through years of electro shocks and pills, it turned his brain into putty. Every night he would lay in bed and toss and turn until I joined him. He needed me for the only thing he trusted in the grey fluorescent light was my yellow sundress.

Now we’re four years later, and as I’m writing this I’m slowly fading. Jonathan bought a rope from one of the inmates. It cost him a month of lunch. After last night we both realised we couldn’t do it anymore. I told him to find a less painful way but he kissed me and said “My dear, everything is less painful than this…” I helped him tie the noose and told him where he could end it without the nurses noticing it. I’m standing on the chair with him now, fixing the rope as if it was a bow tie. “I love you my silly little donut thief…” I whisper in his ear. “I love you too my little sunshine…” he says before kissing my lips and kicking the chair away. And while I am fading away he keeps holding onto the one thing that made him feel safe until the end: my yellow sundress…