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“Hey, Connor! Dinner’s ready! I made pasta! I also put some of those dinosaur-shaped nuggets in the oven. You know. For protein,” Schlatt called to his housemate, who had been in his room nearly the whole day. In fact, it had been the whole day. Well, time for him to come out. Schlatt called at him again, before rolling his eyes and putting the bowls that he’d gotten out back on the counter and walking over to his room.
Schlatt rapped his knuckles on the door a few times, standing outside Connor’s room awkwardly.
“Connor. Dinner is ready, come on,” Schlatt called again. There was still no answer, even as he knocked yet again. “Connor! Open up, dinner is ready.” Schlatt knocked firmly once, then just opened the door.
His gaze immediately locked onto his friend, and he went cold. He couldn’t move. He was frozen. He stared, slack-jawed, at the figure on the floor for a solid minute, before he was finally able to move. He walked over to his friend’s side, dropping to his knees.
He put a hand to his friend’s pulse point. There was no point, he knew the result already, but he had to check. Needed to. There was no pulse, although the blood on the flooring could have told him that. There was so much, it had long since stopped flowing from the numerous slits in Connor’s wrists.
Despite the chill that seemed to resonate from his very bones, Schlatt could feel his face burning, his nose start to run, tears start gathering in his eyes, his hands start to shake. He touched his friend’s face. He was almost still warm.
A shaky breath escaped from his mouth as the sobs finally fought their way up. He pulled Connor’s body up, holding it, hugging it so tight as if it would breathe life back into his friend’s lungs. He buried his face in the still chest, sobs wracking his body as he held the body of his friend.
There were so many things that he had never done, so many things that Schlatt had meant to make him do with him, so many things that Schlatt had meant to tell him, but now he would never get the chance.
His sobs quieted down a bit, now just tremors that ran through his body as he held his friend tight.
When he finally got himself to look up, the world seemed so dark. He should call the police. He gently laid Connor back down, and pulled out his phone, dialing 911.
After the police came, they had him call a funeral home. People came and took Connor away, and everyone left. He hadn’t realized how quiet it was until no one was there.
He felt so empty inside, like there was a hole that Connor took with him to the grave. He stares at the door, praying that Connor would come back through, laugh at his tears, tell him it was a joke, haha, its over!
But he never did.
Schlatt wiped his eyes and tried in vain to collect himself. He had to make a call.