Chapter Text
Flame worried.
He really did.
It was strange, for the past few days, he hasn’t seen Wemmbu at school or any other place. Even before he was absent, every interaction with him ended with Wemmbu anxiously trying to find a way to escape the conversation without giving anybody suspicions on what he was doing. Everytime he sees Wemmbu, he just looks like he’s starting to get worse and worse by day. It’s is starting to concern him. When Flame texts, Wemmbu only responds 2-3 weeks later without explanation and only just a dry text.
He’s sick of it. He want’s to know why does Wemmbu act like a skinny 14 year old Dazai-obsessed girl that yearns and reads Ao3 at 3 am instead of actually sleeping. It’s gotten to the point where Flame starts to text Egg and checking if Wemmbu was alive, unfortunately, Wemmbu was still alive. He even asks Loppezz if Wemmbu was at school or not.
They always teased him for worrying too much. How could he not worry?? Flame Hasn’t seen Wemmbu in the flesh for almost 2 weeks. He always worried, they always worried too less. Being paranoid doesn’t make this help at all.
Is he okay??
Is this guy alive??
Answer me😭🙏🏼
Atleast tomorrow, he will check him at his house to atleast CONFIRM Wemmbu ISNT doing dumb shit or pulling off a Sayori.
Eggballs1!1!1!
flame:
hey egg wjats wmmbuvs addr3s
egg:
dude why are you asking ts at 2 am to find your bf or smth
are you THIS downbad
ok i am worryenf too but i srlsy cant do shyt because he never telle me :(
flame:
js tell me brouf i’ll inf0rm u wtf happend lateur
egg:
sighs dramatically💔
12 oak street near scheol
flame:
ok ty i wont totally abuse this info
egg:
WJAT HEY
٩(๑❛ᴗ❛๑)۶
Wemmbu was alive.
To say the least..
His mental health has been spiraling rapidly since senior high started. As far as he can recall. It has not been this bad since 6th Grade. His wrists were throbbing. His stomach hurts. His parents are not there. He feels helpless. Why is it so confusing? He never wants to ask help because he knows he will be a burden if he asks for help. Asking is a sign of weakness.
Asking for help shows how pathetic and clueless you are.
Your just tired, stop being overdramatic.
You should be grateful your parents still support your education.
Work harder.
Wemmbu paced quickly to the upstairs bathroom, he washes his face and stares directly into the mirror. He’s always been pale. Possibly skinny too. But he never realized how strange he became.
Wrists with dried out blood. Large eye bags. Way too skinny for a normal human being. If he even considered himself that. He wants to change himself. How he is. He hates looking vulnerable. He hates it when this faucet of tears keep seeping through and when the valve breaks they force me to keep it open.
His grades are slipping. He forgets to attend his extra curriculars anymore. He feels drained. He hates playing intruments that he never liked. All of that slipping down the drain of misery. He misses when he was happy. He still yearns for those days when he was just in an open field of flowers with his friends and the feeling of not being pressured. And suddenly—
He grabs the knife.
One
eight
F i f t e e n
t w e n t y
He doesnt want to live life like this- yearning for change and things of the world he’ll never get at all
Its decided.
He paces around the house, rushing to rooms while his mind races, he cant breathe. He doesnt know whats happening. He feels weird. He feels light headed. With the little energy he has, he walks slowly to the kitchen cabinet stumbling towards a cabinet.
its right there
The pills
Wemmbu reaches them. He hesistates, before fully taking the bottle with him to his room. He’s glad his parents are not home right now. Before he thinks of taking more than five of those pills, he checks his phone. One. Last. Time.
The phone is buzzing. Like his head. Alot. Of messages from Flame, Egg, and others. From weeks ago he has yet to respond to.
Wemmbu chugs down half of the full bottle of pills without hesitating. He feels tired. Exhausted. Light headed. His arms are still stinging. The feeling starts to kick in.
For once in his god forsaken life, he feels something he has never felt before-
Relief
Wemmbu starts to finally feel like hes being consumed by darkness. He smiles faintly and he almost closes his eyes-then
He was awoken by large knocking on the front door. He doesnt have the mood to respond. The knocking gets louder. Louder. Louder. Until the door was fully open.
Wemmbu really could not give a shit to whoever was barging into his house. He knows any moment now the feeling will start to kick in.
Until, it does not.
( ＾∀＾)
Flame is scared for him. He starts quickly pacing around the house trying to find him. He checks the bathroom door. He analyzes the room silently, until he doesnt.
There was blood on the pocket knife
Why are there dried tears on sink?
Why- Oh.
It was bad. Really bad.
Flame ran to Wemmbu’s bedroom. Seemingly seeing him almost at peace feels very strange.
”Wemmbu! Wemmbu! WEMMBU. WAKE UP BRO. SPIT THE PILLS OUT.” Flame yelled, yelled, and yelled. Until he was Wemmbu was choking on his own blood. Wemmbu’s throat felt raspy and raw, in exchange for being alive. His eyes we’re wide open. Everything hurt. His position, his head, his arms, and his stomach.
“Flame. What the FUCK are you doing here,” Wemmbu said, eyes wide open and blood still dripping. “Did Egg give you my address???” He was panting. Of course Flame had to ruin it. When he was about to meet Rejoice.
”Are you INSANE?? WEMMBU??” Flame yelled at him for a while.
“WHY WOULD YOU JUST PULL THAT OFF??” Complete silence was all that happened for a few seconds. Wemmbu didnt know what to say. Before he could speak, Flame strangled him in a tight embrace. “Dont leave me. No. Not this early” Tears started to well up his eyes. Flame didnt know what to do without his rival. All the pranks. The jokes. And the excitement Wemmbu has given him ever since middle school was too much to just let go.
They stayed there for a moment. In comfortable silence. Only their breathing filled that.
Wemmbu repeatedly tried pulling out of the hug, only failing miserably because of Flame’s strong grip on him.
He really didn’t understand why Flame actually went to his house, and somehow made him stay alive. How much was he worth to be kept alive?? As far he knows, (which is the length of the earth) there was no point. His grades we’re slipping. He’s fallen to his old habits again. Everyday is a cycle of torment. Well, so much for ‘recovering’.
”Why..wh-why did you come here bro??”
“Bro is this the first thing you say after literally overdosing bro.”
”There seriously is no point of actually staying here and keeping me alive right now.”
”Who tf hurt you bro when did you get edgy💔”
“But lwk bro theres a bigger elephant in the room. Why was kiling yourself and option for you bro? Im not even mad bro, i just want to know bro.”
Pure silence. Wemmbu didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t form words outside of his mouth. Just- only pure mumbling. As a way to comfort himself, he starts scratching at his sleeves. His arms hurt. Shit he forgot to clean the cuts. And Flame started to notice.
Flame tried touching Wemmbu’s arms, only for Wemmbu to slip away and flinch when it was touched. He didn’t try touching his arm again.
“Mind telling me whats under your sleeve bro?” Flame grew slightly suspicious. He only wanted what is best for Wemmbu. He didn’t want to hurt him or make him uncomfortable in this state he is in.
”Dawg your getting way too concerned over me. Its literally nothing.” Wemmbu felt tense when he said that.
He wasn’t supposed to know. He never was.
Don’t leave me like the others, please..
“Bro, if you wont tell me I wont leave. It’s not that hard bro.”
”Go find it out yourself.” Wemmbu left and slowly walked to the bathroom. Barely even able to properly walk because of the drugs.
He stared into the mirror again. He felt trapped in a body that felt like it wasn’t his. Everything hurt. He wishes everyone would go away. He wishes he could curl up into a ball and cry alone. He wants to leave this body, but he knows he can’t. Flame is there. He doesn’t want to let Wemmbu die alone. Not when he’s there.
His breathing starts to get faster. His mind is racing.
Wemmbu slides his seeves up, to reveal angry red marks on both of his arms. In some sick way, it feels comforting to see. But he knows deep inside, It’s not healthy.
So much to listening to your therapist.
He needs to clean them, but he physically can’t. His mind starts filling with thoughts. He can’t breathe properly. His heart is beating quickly. Then- suddenly, he sitting on the floor with tears in his eyes he didn’t know were there. He long forgot Flame was in his house. Breathing inside of it. All he knew was he needed a hug. A geniune one. Not one of Flame’s embraces that were only filled with pity. He’s fully convinced everyone only sympathizes him for things out of pure pity. Not because they care.
(о´∀`о)
Flame was waiting.
It’s been exactly 30 minutes of Wemmbu remaining inside the bathroom without coming out. And 30 minutes of Flame waiting very impatienly.
“Wemmbu, are you there bro?”
Flame was left with nobody responding. He knocks on the door.
o n e
t w o
t h r e e
He’s getting increasingly concerned. He needs to make sure Wemmbu isn’t pulling things off or doing something dumb. Flame knocks louder. Louder. Louder. No answer. Until he starts to hear silent hyperventilating coming from Wemmbu himself.
“I’m coming in bro-“ The color in Flames face starts to drain slightly.
“Are youu..okay bro..??” He doesn’t know how to actually comfort him. Not that he actually knows how to comfort people or ever done it at all for others outside of Wemmbu.
”Oh Wemm..” He kneels down, to stay at the same height of Wemmbu.
Wemmbu couldn’t breathe. He’s curled up in a ball with his vision getting worse and worse while the red, long, deep streaks in his arms start to hurt even more.
”Uh- uhm.. UH-“
Flame isn’t the one quite built to comfort people. He knows Mane taught him how to help somebody when they’re having a panic attack. So now, he’s brainstorming what the fuck is he trying to say.
As far as Flame knows (1 meter), he’s scared and panicking at the same time. Why? Because he probably WILL make it WORSE FOR Wemmbu.
“D-dude, wha-what are yo-u e..ven tryi..n-g to say???”
“Uhm..sh-shit- list 3 things y-you can see..”
Flame maintained his composure, and stayed calm. Somehow..
“The-the mirro-r, Your f-face, and.. uhm.. the tiled floor?? I t-think.”
”Great. Now, concentrate on your breathing.”
Wemmbu’s quick breathing slowly started to normalise the more Flame spoke calmly.
”Your doing good. Its fine. I’m here if you need me.”
<3