Chapter Text
I hated these sessions. Never once did I leave this room thinking ‘oh that made me feel better.’ I wish it helped but it was like wishing for magic to be real, never going to happen.
I used to think it would help, that one day I’d find the magic cure, the few words that would click in my head and make me feel like there is hope. But I think after Karl died, I lost all possibility of finding those words.
I was getting better before he died. I truly was, the world felt lighter, the colors were everywhere and I felt alive. I was starting to feel like maybe being alive was worth it, life was worth it. But Karl left, and that feeling went with him. Fuck him for leaving.
I can still see his stupid smile, looking at me and laughing at some stupid joke. The sparkle in his eyes, and I can still feel the warmth that always settled in my stomach when I was around him. It was a small feeling, almost not even there, but it was still there.
“So how are you doing?” I hate that question. I hate this chair, I hate that clipboard, I hate this room, I just hate it all. “Quackity? I asked how are you?” I stood up and I started screaming and yelling, he didn’t even flinch. How many other nutjobs has he seen? How many has he seen today? This week? This month? Am I even important to this man or am I just another drop in the ocean, just lost waiting for someone to find me.
“FUCK” I yell, and I threw the pillow that was always on my chair. It hit the wall and down came one of the stupid degrees. I sat back down and clenched my fists, I could feel my nails digging into my skin.
“Feel better?” He asked me. Oh to hell with him, he doesn’t even give a fuck, I truly am just another nutjob to him. I looked around the room, and then out the window at the snowstorm that was going on. If I wasn’t a suicidal nut case with anger issues I would probably love to be outside right now, but I am stuck here.
“Oh fuck off Philza.” I snapped at him. He writes something down on his clipboard. To hell with that clipboard.
“How was your weeks at the hospital?” He asks me, why the fuck is he still staying calm. I shake my head and bite my lip. “Would Karl want this?” He asked me, in an attempt to get me talking, and I felt my heart skip a beat. I hate him even more, if that was even possible.
“Don’t you dare, he isn’t even here.” I mutter under my breath. I tried to stop clenching my fist, pulling my fingers away to see my nails had dug in and blood was popping up, pooling slightly. I run my fingers over it and watch it smear over my clean palms. I’ll wash it off with snow on the way home.
“Well what would he say if he were here?” He says while writing down something, why the fuck does it matter anyway? He’s dead.
“He would say to go to hell for bringing him up. He would say go fuck yourself for bringing up a dead guy.” I snapped at him again. He continues to write on his clipboard. Half of me wanted to take it and break it in half, just so he would stop writing.
“You tried to end your life again, would this happen to be in relation to Karl killing himself?” He asks me, this time he didn’t even look up at me, why won’t he even look at me.
“What? No, it fucking isn’t. And so what? It was the 5th time. And you want the truth Dr. Philza? This shit stopped working in between the 1st time I tried to kill myself and the 2nd time. It stopped working, sitting in this damn chair for an hour, sitting here and arguing with you over my dead best friend doesn’t help me. You lied to my parents telling them I was getting better. I jumped off that fucking bridge hopping someone would hit me once I hit the ground but it didn’t work. Instead I spent a few weeks in the hospital and now I’m back in this damn chair.” I yell, not even looking at him.
He didn’t try to interrupt me so I continued.
“This stupid chair with you sitting there acting like everything is normal. Acting like you aren’t sitting across from someone who has tried to kill themself for the 5th fucking time. And I’m just done with it. It’s shit, this is all shit. I keep causing all these problems and nobody is stopping me, I can only stop me and I can stop me by killing myself. That’s it.” I snap at I don’t even look at him. I stared at my feet as he continued to write things down.
“If it’s your meds that aren’t working maybe we should try to change you to something else?” He offers me. I looked up at him and I felt a tear fall down the side of my face. I wasn’t even aware that I was crying until now. Blood and tears, the things I never see coming but seem to happen in this office a bit too much.
“No, why don’t you ever listen to me. I hate taking meds! I’ve told you this like a million times. Dr. Philza you are the worst therapist out there, but you know you are the only one we can afford so I’m stuck with you.” I tell him and he rolls his eyes.
“Quackity, you have said that way too much. I understand you don’t like therapy but it’s good for you. You are obviously suffering and you need help, so let me help you.” He says and then a timer goes off. “Well, I’ll have to help you next time because that is our hour. Maybe next time we can talk about meds, and Karl some more. Until then, still take what you have, and try to get through the week.” He says.
“Is that all I am to you? Another hour in your week? It’s like I’m not even a person” he stands up and opens the door for me while smiling. I stand up, rolling my eyes and I walk out the door before taking one last glance into the office. The degree was still on the floor, the pillow next to it. I know I shouldn’t have done that but I hope it’s broken.
“Goodbye Quackity” He tells me and I bite my lip, feeling blood hit my tongue, the metallic taste taking me by surprise.
“See you later than.” I say to Dr. Philza, trying not to let him see the blood in my mouth, and I walk out to the main lobby of the office. I almost made it past the desk before I heard.
“Quackity, you are supposed to come make another appointment.” And turning around I walked back to the desk where Hannah, the secretary, was sitting. “How is this time two days from now?” he asks me, flipping through the appointment book.
“Sure, fine.” I say as he writes it down on an appointment card and hands it to me, it hits my palm where it was still slightly bleeding and makes it sting more. I pull the card away, noticing the bloody corner and then put it in my pocket.
“It’ll get better” he tells me, smiling softly. I roll my eyes and turn back towards the door, careful not to get blood on the handle, god knows the last thing people need to see when leaving therapy is a bloody door handle. That would raise a lot of questions, the biggest one probably being ‘who’s the fucking asshole that starts bleeding in therapy and then gets it on the door handle?’
I walked out of the building, grabbing some snow from a snow bank that had built up when people shoveled the walkway and held it against my bleeding palm. I continued to walk for a moment until I stood in the middle of the parking lot, staring at the sky and watching the snowfall. It was peaceful, we’re supposed to get a lot of snow this next week. Perfect for Christmas. I looked around for a moment before I went to the bus stop. I stood at the stop and after waiting only a few minutes the bus arrived. I got on, paid my fee and found a seat. The heat was on and warm enough that any snow that had landed on my coat was now melting into water.
“Is your hand okay?” A voice asks me. I turn to see some lady looking at my bleeding hand. he sat across from me, legs crossed with shopping bags nearhisfeet. I looked down at my hand, the bleeding had mostly stopped but the watered down blood was covering my hand, if my hand hurt at all at this point I didn’t notice, jumping off a bridge and crashing onto the ground hurt more than this.
“Oh yeah I’m fine.” I tell her, wiping my hands on my coat. Luckily it was black so the red blood blended in. I still knew I needed to throw it in the wash when I got home. The color might not show up but the smell definitely will, and it’s not my favorite smell in the world.
I looked back at the lady but at this point he had looked away. My brain was telling me that it was weird that he was asking me if I was okay, but it isn’t too weird right? My hand is pouring out blood while I just sit there like nothing is wrong. Moments later he pulls the cord and I watch as he hops off the bus.
I used to sit on the bus with Karl for hours, we would ride all day, watching people go about their days and wondering what lives they were living. We would create fake stories for them, fake drama and fake ideas of what they were doing on a random Tuesday afternoon. That’s one thing I miss, just having fun with him doing stupid shit.
A few stops later I was in my neighborhood, the snow still coming down in heavy flakes. If I didn’t have my coat I would be freezing at this point. The walk was silent, and soon enough I was walking up the steps to my house, covered in snow yet again. I opened up the door and before I could even say that I was home I heard my parents talking. Well, I wouldn’t exactly say talking, more like yelling. Nothing new.
“I am beyond pissed, Fundy.” That was Schlatt, my dad, well one of my dads.
“And I’m not? Come on Schlatt, be honest here.” And that was Fundy. They were probably having another dining table fight. They sit at that table and they fight over everything, extended family, bills, me. Their favorite argument point was me, why I’m fucked up, why I tried to kill myself, why I am who I am.
“Where did we go wrong? What did we do?” Oh so this was about me. Of course it was. Schlatt always wanted to know when something was wrong, so when I didn’t say that anything was, they thought I was better. In reality I was just hiding everything from them. It’s easier to hide things than to explain them, some of it is just too hard to explain.
“We didn’t do anything.” Fundy always tried to reassure Schlatt, saying that I am going through my own struggle and my own path in life. Fundy was raised by hippies so of course it was all about my own path. I don’t know what ‘path’ this is but I definitely hate it and want off of it.
“Then what happened? He was getting better!” I was and then I wasn’t. I just pretended like I was getting better the whole time and Dr. Philza said to them that I was. So when I actually was getting better they saw that. But then I stopped getting better but Schlatt thinks that I am forever okay. I think that my best friend's death might have been a sign that I’m not doing okay, that it might put a stunt in my growth of ‘getting better’ but apparently not.
“Schlatt stop being so fucking blind, he might have been getting better for a while but they both could have been lying the whole time. Quackity isn’t getting better and who knows he may never get better at this point. He tried to kill himself for the 5th fucking time. You would know that if you were home more.” Up until recently Fundy was always the kind of stay at home dad while Schlatt was the money maker. They both hated each other for it, but Fundy got a job.
“I am home, Fundy, but I also have to go to work. Someone has to make money” Schlatt snaps right back at Fundy. I heard the chair move back, meaning that one of them stood up. I froze in the doorway. Then another chair, they were both standing. They wouldn’t fight physically but standing up meant they were both getting angrier, I never feared them while angry though.
“I am too. Okay? I am too, and the fact is that you still think you are the only one. I have a job and you aren’t the only support this family has.” Fundy sounded angry and annoyed at the same time. The only time he is like this is around Schlatt. Marriage is supposed to bring out the best in people, but only the worst in them.
“Well sorry that I am so used to being the only income, because you couldn’t hold down a job for 3 years.” Schlatt was going for the low blows wasn’t he. I wanted to move, to make myself known because I know if I did they would stop. They hated fighting in front of me but the floors and walls were thin in this house.
“It’s because I had to have surgery 3 different times. No job wants to hire someone who is leaving in 3 weeks to be out for 3 months.” That’s true, no one wanted to hire Fundy for that reason.
“Well I didn’t crash that car so you can’t blame me” That was a low blow from Schlatt. Fundy didn’t crash the car, I was in the car. We were driving to school when someone slammed into the drivers side of the car, I was left with a broken arm and a concussion. Fundy wasn’t as lucky as I was, a piece from the door pierced his side and tore through his torso.
“I’m not blaming you! And this isn’t about us, this is about Quackity!” Fundy was yelling now. Why the fuck were they always yelling.
“Quackity is fine!” Schlatt was yelling too. I’m really not. Wanting to die, wanting to die to see your best friend again, wanting to die to see your best friend again and letting go of all the pain you hold onto isn’t fine. Nothing about my life is fine. I was just checked out of the mental hospital again.
“Open your goddamn eyes Schlatt. Quackity isn’t okay, his best friend killed himself less than a year ago.” It was 7 months ago. 7 fucking months.
“He needs to move on!” Schlatt was a mix of things, letting me be then telling me to move on. Fundy was the comfort parent and he has been letting me take my time with this.
“I’m not saying for him to just move on, I want him to stop wallowing in it every moment.” I wouldn’t say I’m wallowing in it, well maybe. I think about Karl about once or twice a day, and cry about him a lot, but I won’t talk about him to anyone else.
“That was the love of his life!” That’s another thing that Schlatt keeps saying. I wasn’t in love with Karl, but Schlatt thinks I am. Schlatt said it’s hard to lose your soulmate, even though Schlatt never lost anyone. His parents are both still alive, his sister is alive, and I’m his only kid. But to be fair I’m barely alive.
“No it wasn’t Schlatt, Quackity isn’t gay.” I could hear the slight anger in his voice.
“He could be.” To be fair, I never dated anyone. I didn’t date any girls or any guys. I just never fell in love with someone like that. I don’t really believe that I could ever be in love with someone like that. No one wants to date someone with issues like I have.
“Schlatt just stop. You are too much for anyone to deal with.” Fundy had stopped yelling but you could still hear the disappointment in his voice. I’ve heard that voice before but it was never used towards me, only Schlatt.
“If it wasn’t for Quackity, I would divorce your ass right here right now.” I heard them talking about divorce a lot, I wish they would just end it by now. It’s just prolonging pain.
“And you told me I was forever going to be the love of your life.” Fundy snapped back, and he sounded hurt.
“I was wrong.” I could hear footsteps so I opened up the door behind me, stomping my feet slightly.
“We both were.” And I closed the door like I had just entered. Schlatt was then at the top of the staircase and I kicked off my shoes into the corner of the entryway.
“Hey Quackity” Schlatt smiles at me. I nodded at him as a greeting and I started to take off my coat. “So you heard the whole thing huh?” He asked me as I went to put my coat on the rack, I saw his eyes look at the blood on my coat but he didn’t say anything. I look at him confused and he shakes his head. “All the snow melted off of you, there’s puddles right there” He tells me.
“Never can get anything past you can I?” I asked him in a tone that wasn’t quite sarcasm but it was close, and I started to walk up the stairs. He stares at me and for a moment I look back into his eyes, like he was still trying to see what’s going on.
When I was a kid I thought it was a super power of his, being able to see what’s right in front of him. But as I got older I slowly started seeing that it wasn’t some power, just something everyone could do. If it was a super power he would be able to see what was wrong with me, he would see how much I’m hurting. It’s obvious but he still can’t see it.
“Quackity, what you heard, it’s just. Quackity I’m sorry” Schlatt tells me but I walk past him and I walk to the kitchen. At this point these were just words falling out of his mouth. He didn’t mean it, he never meant it when he said sorry.
“Hey Quackity, how did the session go?” Fundy asks as I walk by him as he is sitting at the dining table. I don’t say anything as I walk to the sink and begin to wash off my hand, the crescent moon cuts can finally be seen as the source of blood. “Was it good?” I ignore him as I finish washing my hand. I then reach into the cupboard for a glass. “What did you talk about?” He questions as I reach into the fridge and grab the juice starting to pour myself a glass of juice.
“Karl” I state simply, I don’t look at Schlatt as Schlatt goes to sit at the table. Fundy looks at me, glances at Schlatt, and stands up, walking towards the entry of the kitchen. Jesus these two can’t even sit at the same table together anymore.
“What about Karl?” Fundy questions. I look at him, shrug, and sip on my juice. “Quackity? What did Dr. Philza say about Karl?” I roll my eyes, why the hell can’t he just drop it?
“He asked what Karl would think if he was still here, then when I replied that he wouldn’t want to be brought up and used against me, he suggested that we just up my meds. Then he said that I need to try harder to get better and kicked me out after our hour was up. I really don’t want to go see him anymore.” I told him. Fundy bit his lip but moved more into the kitchen.
“Well we can’t afford another therapist. Unless there’s a cheaper therapist out there, we can’t do all that much for you bubs.” Fundy tells me.
Fuck having shit insurance. Schlatt had perfect insurance but his company only covers him, so Fundy and I get whatever shit insurance his company has.
“Stop calling me bubs, you know I hate that.” I remind him. Bubs was a childhood nickname, and I can’t seem to drop it, even though I have been saying for years I hate it. Fundy rolled his eyes at me.
“I’ve told you a million times that I keep forgetting that. But what can we do to help you? We can’t get you a new therapist any time soon but we can try our best to support you here.” Fundy smiles, putting a hand on my lower arm. I shove off his arm and shake my head. I didn’t need to be consoled like a child.
“I heard you guys talking about me. Now I’m going to go to my room, so I can wallow in peace without bothering you. Because it was so hard for me ‘losing the love of my life’ even though I’m not at all gay.” I snap, putting my cup in the sink. Well that could be true, I never thought about my sexuality all too much. I never felt the reason to.
“Quackity I’m sorry.” Schlatt says, standing up from the table and coming into the kitchen. I look at him. Why the fuck did he keep saying that when we know he doesn’t mean it. I look at Fundy and then look back at Schlatt, Fundy just makes a face of ‘don’t’ but fuck that.
“Sorry for what? Saying that I’m gay when I’m clearly not. Look I don’t give a fuck that you guys are, I’m not.” I snap. Fundy’s face turns to a frown.
“Hey watch your mouth.” Fundy snaps back at me. I was allowed to use curse words just not in an angry way. Well again, fuck that.
“Quackity, it’s okay if you are gay, it’s fine if you were in love with Karl.” Schlatt tells me. Oh my fucking god.
“Jesus Christ I was not in love with him! He was my best friend! I never saw him like that! Schlatt I’ve been telling you that for months, fucking listen to me!” I scream. Schlatt looked at me like he couldn’t believe me.
“Quackity, can you blame us for thinking like this? You spend 24/7 with this boy and when he’s gone all you do is mourn over him!” Schlatt yells back at me. Of course I’m going to mourn him, was he not my best friend for years?
“Hey I’m not Fundy, don’t fucking yell at me!” I yell at Schlatt.
“I am your father, I will do as I please!” Schlatt snaps at me. I try pushing past him to go to my room but he grabs my shoulder. “Oh no, you started this fight, you got to finish it.” He tells me. Oh he wants to go this way?
“Fine, want me to finish it? Schlatt, you are only my father because you want to prove to your parents that you can be a great father, even without a woman by your side like they wanted. Your whole life is doing things out of spite, adopting me, marrying Fundy, but let’s see how that’s working out for you. Your son wants to kill himself and your husband wants a divorce. Yet instead of fixing these issues you divert them, you decide that instead of me being suicidal and depressed, I am in love with my dead best friend.”
“Quackity, please.” Schlatt starts. Too late Schlatt.
“No, you wanted this. You fucking decide that instead of realizing that Fundy had nothing to do with the fucking accident that it’s his fault, therefore his fault for the divorce. Both of us have done nothing but be side characters to your life, and apparently it’s not even enough for you. And even if we weren’t treated like side characters we would be the villains in your story, because we ‘cause all your problems’. You want us to be something we’re not. You just want to be the victim here. And I’m so fucking tired of being the bad guy here. Now I’m going to my room to grab shit and then I’m walking to the fucking cemetery to see my best friend, not my lover, not my soulmate, my best friend. Don’t fucking wait up for me.” I snap. Schlatt stands there stunned and Fundy looks around like he didn’t know where my voice was coming from. Why didn’t he defend me? Why am I still defending him?
“Quackity,” Fundy starts. I turn around and look at him. “Make sure you grab an umbrella or something, the snow is really coming down.” He tells me and I nod.
I guess he just didn’t know what to say. But then again, how do you respond to what I just said? I wish there was a book or something that explains the things no one knows how to talk about.
No one teaches you how to mourn, no one teaches you how to respond to your suicidal son screaming at you, no one teaches you what to do when the world is coming down around you.
I wish Karl was still here. He would know what to do.
I go up to my room, grabbing a new dry coat, my umbrella and my backpack. In my backpack I throw my wallet, keys, extra hat and gloves and my second phone. Throwing the bag on, I stomp around so they know that I’m leaving now. I walk back down to the entryway and I hear Schlatt and Fundy yelling at each other, but this time I block it out. It’s probably about me again.
I throw open the front door after pulling my boots on and I walk out into the snow storm. I started walking the same route to the same place that I’ve been going to for the past few months. At this point I knew the route all too well, I could get there with my eyes closed.
It was quiet, the only noise coming from the snow beneath my feet, softly crunching by the weight. Snow does muffle sound, and with how much the snow is coming down I’m surprised that I can even hear the snow being pressed into the ground. But I’d rather be in silence than anything else right now.
And soon enough I was at the gate, punching in the code to the keypad with the sign next to it, telling you the code. The gate opened with a loud groaning noise and I walked in. It closed a moment after I walked through and I continued walking. I walked around, through the same shoveled path and to the far back corner. I walked in between the graves, careful not to step on any or do anything to damage them, and then I ended up in front of the one I came here for.
“Hey Karl.” I say to the headstone, reaching down and brushing off the snow that had fallen onto it. Though it had been 7 months and a horrible winter since the funeral, the headstone was shiny and bright.
Karl Jacobs, March 4th 2002- May 27th 2019. A son and a best friend.
I move back so I can sit down at the foot of the grave, facing the stone. I pulled off my back pack and pulled out the umbrella, opening it and setting it to cover me and my backpack as I dug through the backpack until I pulled out my second phone.
It was a cheap flip phone that I had for ages. It was my first phone before my first touch screen phone. I only kept it for one reason. I opened it up, went to the calls button and then went to voicemails, and played the only voicemail in the whole phone.
“Quackity! Hey buddy I miss you! I can’t wait to see you in 30 minutes so I’m calling you on my way there! I fucking love you man! I know I say it a shit ton but I love you and I am so glad you’re my best friend, like I can’t wait to be friends for the rest of our lives! I am only the person I am because of you and you just mean so fucking much to me! I love you Quackity bye!”
The phone goes quiet but I still hold it open. It was a few years old, he had taken his dad’s truck and drove out of town somewhere, even though he didn’t have a license. He was coming back to pick me up so we could go do stuff together. I hit replay and I feel my face grow hot.
“Quackity! Hey buddy I miss you! I can’t wait to see you in 30 minutes so I’m calling you on my way there! I fucking love you man! I know I say it a shit ton but I love you and I am so glad you’re my best friend, like I can’t wait to be friends for the rest of our lives! I am only the person I am because of you and you just mean so fucking much to me! I love you Quackity bye!” The phone goes quiet again and I feel tears running down my face. Fuck I miss his voice, I miss his hugs, I miss him . I hit replay again.
“Quackity! Hey buddy I miss you! I can’t wait to see you in 30 minutes-”
“Hello?” A voice scared me and I dropped the phone into the snow. Panic rushes through me as I scramble to pick it up. “Hello?” The voice questions again. I grab the phone and try to brush all the snow off of it before putting it back into my bag, and then I start wiping off my face. I look around for the source of the voice and I see a boy standing there. He was wrapped head to toe in warm clothes, holding an umbrella. A pink hat, blue earmuffs, yellow gloves, purple coat and green boots, very colorful. I stood up, grabbed my umbrella and looked at him. “Oh you scared me.” He tells me.
“Sorry.” I mumbled, even though he was the one who scared me. What the fuck was he doing out here right now, I’m here because I’m on the edge of mental break, but no sane person would be out here right now. He walks by me, just squeezing by as I stand there not moving and he puts flowers on a grave next to Karl's.
“This might be weird, but the voice I heard doesn’t seem to match you, so what voice was I hearing?” He asked me, why was he so worried about voices? I looked over at him, he stood there staring at the grave that he had just put flowers on.
Sapnap Soot, June 28th 2001- October 30th 2018. Loving son and brother.
Jesus, was this the section of dead teens? I didn’t even realize there was someone nearby who was the same age as Karl, died at the same age too. I guess I was so focused on Karl.
“Uh, that would be him. Or his voice at least.” I told him pointing to Karl’s grave, it sounded like some lame excuse. He looks at it, reads the stone and then looks up at me, his eyes wide.
“Are you Quackity?” He asks me. What the fuck? How did he know my name. And who the fuck is he? “Sorry, I’m Wilbur.” He tells me, reaching his hand out to shake mine. I don’t take his hand, but keep mine in my pocket, the other still holding my umbrella. “Can you at least shake my hand?” He asks me. What?
“Not till you tell me who the fuck you are.” I tell him in a worried tone. I had so many questions. He looked at me.
“I told you, I’m Wilbur.” He says, sticking out his hand still to shake mine. I look down at his hand and shake it, he looks at my hand as I do. “Your hand has weird cuts on it, how’d that happen?” He asks me, looking at the half crescent moon shaped cuts on my palm. It had stopped bleeding but it still stung when it came into contact with his gloved hand. I pull my hand back, why are random people so worried about my hand.
“Nothing happened. Who are you? I know your name is Wilbur but how do you know my name? Why did you look at his grave and suddenly know it was me, and who’s that?” I ask him pointing to the grave right next to Karl’s. So many questions that needed answers.
“That’s Sapnap.” He says simply and I try to rack my brain, it sounded vaguely familiar. “I’m Sapnap’s best friend. Sapnap was Karl’s best friend.” He tells me. I think I did hear that name from Karl before, but not as something big.
“No, I was Karl’s best friend.” I shot back at him, because I was. This whole thing was starting to annoy me, and it was really creepy that he just knows shit, so I started to walk away. Karl didn’t have any other best friends. It was just us. He always told me it was just us, so it was just us. Right?
“Wait, Quackity! I know Sapnap wasn’t as close to Karl as you were but they were close!” He was now chasing after me in an effort to talk to me, what the fuck? What was he trying to do here? I stop where I was and I look at him. “Please listen to me. How else would I know your name? Or know that you have two dads, or you love monsters and dying your hair?” He asks me. It was all true, even now my hair that was hiding under my hat was bright blue. I turned back around to look at him. “I know you don’t know me but I know you.”
“Karl never once mentioned a Sapnap, or a Wilbur. I don’t know how the fuck you know this shit about me but it wasn’t from Karl.” I snapped at him as I kept walking, he didn’t know Karl. He would have said something about him, or whoever Sapnap was. I walked over to the gate and punched in the code.
“Karl talked to us before he died! There’s stuff you probably don’t know!” he yelled at me as the gate creaked back open. I turn around and watch him run towards me, what the fuck was his problem? Why was he so obsessed with this? Honestly what was happening? I glared at him, and while I was a short 5’5 I was still taller than him.
“The hell does that mean?” I ask his and he stops in front of me and tries to catch his breath, I watch as he breathes out and the cold reveals his breath.
“Please, talk to me. Here come with me, I’ll take you to meet the others. We can all talk.” He offers, who were the others? Where would we go? Should I trust her?
What if he did know Karl? What if he knew stuff about him that I didn’t know? I keep trying to hang onto the pieces of him that I had, what if he had more? What if he could give me more pieces of the boy who left me?
Fuck why did he go?
I look around the graveyard. He could be lying and trying to kill me, or he could actually know something.
I’ll take my chances, just to try and figure more out about him. I mean if he does kill me it’s a win win either way, I wouldn’t have to do it myself. I nod and he smiles.
“Come on, I’ll take you to my car and I’ll text the group.” And I followed him to the only car in the parking lot. I recognized it immediately, it was Karl’s truck, I knew it was his truck because of the scrap on the back.
Oh fuck he knew Karl.
“How the hell do you have Karl’s truck?” I ask him, stopping in front of it to look at it. He keeps walking around to the driver’s side, ignoring my question. He unlocks it, closes his umbrella and hops inside, and since it was a tall truck he had to pull himself up to be able to get in. I was taller than him and I still had to pull myself up a bit. Karl always joked about getting me a step stool for it. “How do you have it?” I repeated again, opening up the door so I could hear him.
“Oh, his dad was selling it. I wanted a car so I thought it would be good to keep it close to Karl.” he tells me, pulling outhisphone and typing away. I stare at the seat but don’t hop in. He looks at me, the door wide open, snow pouring in. “Come on, it’s cold.” He tells me, putting the phone down and turning the key to start up the truck.
“One second.” I tell him, closing my umbrella before I crouch down to the side of the seat.
Sure enough, sewed into the side of the seat a handmade patch that said ‘Quackity’s seat’. It was still there, even though it resold and some random boy I’ve never even heard of owning it, it was still there.
I smile softly before climbing up into the truck and shutting the door, keeping the backpack on but careful not to crush it. He looks over at me and then starts to drive. We go in silence for a moment, leaving the cemetery, and head down the road. I fidgeted with the umbrella, not knowing what to say.
“I know he wouldn’t want the patch removed so I kept it there.” He says quietly as we sit at an empty intersection, waiting for the light to turn green. I nodded and looked out the window.
Karl had gone through a patch making phase, decorating just about everything with them. He covered a whole jacket full of patches, the jacket was in my closet now, another piece I desperately still hold onto.
I remember when he was picking me up one day, insisting that he would open my door for me so he could show me the patch. He was so happy, his smile was still imprinted onto my brain, his laugh playing on loop. I’m snapped out of my thoughts by a phone dinging.
“The group says they are excited to meet you.” He tells me. I looked over at him, who was this group he kept talking about? “Okay so here’s the overall idea of the group. There’s Dream, Dream, Niki, and Eret. Of course there was Sapnap, and like I said I’m Wilbur. Dream, George and Niki are all 18, Eret and I are 17. Sapnap and Karl were both 17. Dream and George are dating, they both use he/him pronouns. Niki, Eret and I both use she/her. What pronouns do you use?” Wilbur asks me. I stop for a moment processing the information before saying. Jesus fuck he talked really fast.
“He/him.” he nods. He turns into a neighborhood, the rich neighborhood. Karl and I lived in the same neighborhood, he lived two blocks down. I wouldn’t say our neighborhood was a poor neighborhood but it wasn’t the best out there. This however, was definitely a good neighborhood, you could probably leave your doors unlocked during the night and not worry if someone would break in.
“Alright this is the place.” He says, stopping next to a huge house and parking on the street. He reaches for his phone and starts typing again, was he talking to this group of people?
“Who’s house is this?” I ask him, unbuckling but not taking my eyes off the huge house. He didn’t respond for a moment, he was still typing on his phone. He stopped, put his phone down and then looked at me. I put the umbrella in my bag.
“It’s Dream’s house. Alright, let’s go inside.” he smiles. I open up my door and start to climb out. I looked at the patch on the side of the seat again, Karl’s awful and messy handwriting still showed through the patch. I looked at Wilbur to see he was already halfway up the driveway, so I closed the door and began to follow him. We make it up to the door before he rings the doorbell. We wait for a moment before a middle aged looking lady opens up the door.
“Wilbur! Hi darling, everyone else is downstairs. And, who’s this?” The lady asks Wilbur, still opening up the door wide enough for both of us to walk in. I gave a nod towards her, not saying anything, she stared at me in return. Fair enough, a stranger just walks into your house you’ll probably have questions.
“Hi Mrs. Puffy, this is Quackity.” Wilbur tells the woman, like it automatically explains everything. The woman, I’m assuming Mrs. Puffy, turns to me and looks my dead in the eyes. After a moment of uncomfortable eye contact she says
“Hi Quackity, I know about you of course. It feels like everytime Karl came over he had another story to tell us about you. He always cared about you a lot.” So apparently it did explain everything. This is getting creepy now.
How does this woman even know who I am? Why did Karl never mention any of these people to me? Why did he constantly talk about me but not talk about them? Why was I even here?
“Quackity doesn’t talk that much to people he doesn’t know. Anyway, we will be downstairs.” Wilbur says, grabbing my sleeve and starting to steer me away and towards a long hallway. I just follow him, not wanting to be creeped out by this lady anymore.
“Quackity! Karl loved you!” Mrs. Puffy yells after us as we continue to walk down this hallway. I ignore her and Wilbur does the same, neither of us looking back.
How the fuck would I even respond to that if I wanted to?
‘Oh thanks for saying my dead best friend loved me?’ Jesus Christ.
We get to the end of the hallway and Wilbur opens a door on the left, then into another hallway and down to the end and opens the door on the right, then down yet another hallway and opens a door in the middle. That door led us to a staircase where we walked down into a basement of some sort. This place was so huge, how did he just know where to go?
In the basement there were two boys on a loveseat, a girl in a bean bag chair, and a girl on the floor near the bean bag chair. Looking around the room there was a pool table, darts board, a computer, a full fridge in a kitchenette, a tv with a lot of game conceals, three different couches, a pile of bean bags in the corner and two love seats. It seemed like the place that you would have a party in without the rest of the house knowing.
“Hey guys, this is Quackity.” Wilbur announces as we walk further into the basement. As if it was magic they all stood up at once. It was kinda creepy this whole thing was creepy.
“He looks like Karl described him.” One of the girls says. I could tell they were looking me up and down. They all looked somewhat familiar but I’ve never met them before, I would know if I had.
Looking at them all again I try to take in what they really look like. Both the guys were taller than me, one of the girls was taller than me. Wilbur and the other girl were both shorter than me. One of the guys had light brown almost blonde hair, green eyes, and a smile. The other, who was shorter than the first, had dark brown hair, brown eyes and a curious look on his face. The girl who was taller than me had long dark brown hair, blue eyes and an evil looking smile. The shorter girl had short pink hair, blue eyes and a small frown.
“We’ve seen pictures dumbass, and he goes to our school.” The other girl says. The first girl elbows the second. Did they go to school with me? I hadn’t been to school in a few weeks due to the whole ‘failed suicide attempt’ thing.
That and I just really hated school.
“Can you both stop being idiots?” One of the guys asks them, glaring at them. They all kind of stood in a line in front of Julia and I.
“They can’t help it.” The other guy laughs. Who the hell are these people?
“Quackity, this is Dream, George, Niki, and Eret. Dream Is the tallest guy on the left there, George is holding his hand. Eret is the tall one on the other side of Dream, and Niki is next to her.” Wilbur introduces me. I look at all of them. I gave another nod, just like I had done with the lady upstairs, I already forgot her name.
“Nice to meet you Quackity, we’ve heard a lot about you. Please, come sit.” George tells me. I nod again and they all go back to where they were sitting. Wilbur sits on one of the couches and I slide off my backpack before sitting down on a couch by myself across from Wilbur. Dream and George on the loveseat to my left, Niki and Eret on the beanbag and floor to my left.
“I didn’t even notice you were wearing a backpack.” Wilbur tells me. I nod not knowing what to say, I hadn’t taken it off since putting the umbrella in, before that is when I threw the phone in. Fuck the phone, it had gotten soaked before I chucked it in there to hide it from Wilbur.
“Fuck.” I say out loud, ripping open the backpack and reaching inside. I feel cold metal and I pull it out. The phone was covered in water, well it was snow at one point.
“Woah, your phone got soaked.” Dream says to me, like it wasn’t some obvious thing. I felt tears starting to well up in my eyes, fuck I’m crying. I opened it up and tried to hit the power button to turn it on. The phone didn’t power on but I knew it had charge since the nurse charged it last night.
It was the only thing I was allowed to have at the hospital since it didn’t get service anymore. That and I said I would probably kill myself without it.
“No, no, no, no.” I say trying to dry it off with my coat, but because it was also covered in water it didn’t work. I feel the tears fall from my eyes and down my face. What a first impression, silent then crying over an old flip phone. I felt my leg start to bounce up and down and my hands began to shake. I can’t have a panic attack, not now.
“Quackity are you okay?” Eret asks. I don’t say anything else but continue to try and dry off the phone. No one made any movements. “Quackity?” She repeats.
“This is a phone that I’ve had for a long time. It’s the only phone that has a voicemail from Karl on it. I couldn’t transfer it to any other device so I kept it on this phone. At the cemetery I dropped it in the snow and now it’s not turning back on.” I cry, still trying to fix the phone with my shaking hands, I needed to breathe or I would have a panic attack. Dream on my left stood up, walked over to me and sat next to me. He held out his hand.
“Give me the phone.” He tells me, I look at him and hold the phone closer to my person, I can’t trust a stranger with this. “I will be extremely gentle with it, I promise, just give me the phone.” He repeats, what was he gonna do? I look over at Wilbur, the only person that I kinda know, despite us only meeting an hour ago. He nods and looks at Dream.
I hand over the phone, my hands and legs still shaking. I watch as he stands back up, walks over to the computer, plugs it in and starts clicking buttons on the computer. After a moment he unplugs the phone and walks up the stairs.
While he is gone no one talks, no one moves. The only movement in the room is my legs bouncing and my hands shaking. I try to think of the things Dr. Philza taught me but nothing comes to mind right now. All I could do was wait for the phone to come back.
What was Dream doing? Did he even know what he was doing? Where did he go? Could I even trust this ‘Dream’? A million questions race through my mind until he comes back a few moments later with the phone, hands it to me and goes to sit down.
“What did you do to it?” George asks him as Dream sits down next to him. I press the power button and it turns on. Shit it turns on. Holy shit it turns on .
“I backed up the voicemail to the computer in case the phone crashed, went up to my room where I took it apart, dried it off, checked for water damage, and then I put it back together to check it still worked. It does, and the voicemail should be fine.” He tells me. I felt my hands stop shaking but my leg continued to bounce.
No panic attacks right now, I can’t cry and then have a panic attack on top of that. Not when these people don’t deserve that.
“I’m sorry for freaking out over it.” I apologize, no one says anything so I keep talking. “It’s just Karl meant a lot to me and this phone and voicemail is what I have left of him.” I explain.
No one reacts, no one is even looking at me, what am I even doing here? I am at a random person's house because a stranger told me that my dead best friend had other people who I had no clue about. I am snapped out of my thoughts by someone talking.
“Quackity we know, Karl told us about you all the time. You meant as much to him as he meant to you.” Eret tells me. I look at her, still not sure how these people know so much about me. “He would come over and tell us about the thing you two just did, the time you both went painting and he came over covered in paint, the time you guys danced in the rain. He loved talking about you, sometimes it felt like he only ever talked about you.” Eret explains more. That stuff did happen, it was fun too. Why did he not explain who these people were to me if he explained who I was to them?
“The only person who constantly wanted to hear about it, without getting tired of it, was Sapnap. He would sit and listen while painting his nails, or they would do stuff like sewing or making patches and he would just talk about you so much. There was a time where we were drinking and he just went on about how he loved you and missed you. We told him not to call you but he called you anyway to tell you he loves you.” Niki tells me, she looked over at Wilbur but Wilbur didn’t look at her.
I remember that. It was the day I got out of the hospital for the 3rd time. My dads wanted me home that night and didn’t let me go out. Karl had stopped by to give me a gift bag but my dads told me no friends over, even if I only had one friend, so he left. I went to bed early and woke up to a phone call, I answered and Karl told me how much he loved me and how he was glad I was alive.
“I don’t know what I would do without you, Quackity.”
Those are the words I think about at least once a week. After he said that he had hung up the phone suddenly and I didn’t hear from him until two days later. It was weird because he said he would talk to me everyday but then he just disappeared.
“So we know what Karl told us about you, you tell us about you.” George says. I stop and think for a moment, what was I going to say? These are literal strangers who could possibly know anything I say, what would Karl have told them?
“Well. I’m 16, I have 2 dads, my favorite movie is The Perks Of Being A Wallflower, Karl was my best friend and other than that I don’t have many people in my life.” I say shortly, that was the answer I gave during group therapy at the hospital so it should work here right?
“Do you not have other friends?” Niki asks me, even though I just said I don’t have many people in my life. But to be fair, I really don’t, I’ve had Karl in my life since the 1st grade.
It was the first day of 1st grade. I was struggling to talk to anyone new, and I knew nobody, I had gone to a different Kindergarten. Then a little boy with light up sneakers and glasses that covered half of his small face walked up to me, smiling ear to ear. He sat at the desk next to me and pulled out a tiny monkey eraser and a snake eraser. I stared at the monkey one for a while before he finally said
“You can have this if you’ll be my friend.”
And I accepted, so instead of asking my name he just called me monkey. So I called him snake. And from that moment we were friends. We ate lunch together, talked about girls and played on the playground. As we got older he changed while I stayed the same. He traded glasses for contacts, light up sneakers for combat boots, but he kept me with him.
“Niki! That was rude! That’s like if you asked me if I-.” Wilbur started to snap at this but cut himself off, looking over to me. I didn’t see the question as rude, so I stayed quiet.
“It’s just a question Wilbur, this guy goes to our school and yet I’ve never seen him talk to anyone else.” Niki says. She wasn’t wrong. I don’t talk to other people like Wilbur said earlier to the lady upstairs.
I stay quiet during class, and during lunch I use to just eat in the back of Karl’s pick up with him or go get food with him. Even at the hospital I was known as a kid who didn’t talk a lot, I just never felt the need to talk too much. Plus with Karl he could do all the talking for hours.
“Uh no not really. I met Karl a long time ago and because I don’t really talk that much to people, I don’t go out of my way to talk at least, I just don’t have that many friends. Also did you say we go to the same school?” I ask. They all nod in sync, that’s still super creepy. “Really?”
“Quackity, we’ve gone to the same school since middle school. We have had classes together.” Dream tells me. I stare at him confused, no way. I would know that right?. “I’m not fucking with you, we have since middle school.”
“You never said anything to me before.” I point out. If any of them would have said something I would remember that right? If they knew about me through Karl, they could have said something before. Did they?
“Well, Karl said you didn’t like to talk to new people all that much. I’m honestly surprised you’re talking to us now with what Karl said.” Wilbur tells me. Why didn’t Karl introduce us though? He forced me to talk a few times before so he could have forced me to talk to them if they were friends.
“I don’t like talking to adults or people I know that are assholes. It use to be that I didn’t want to talk to anyone at all but after my last trip to the hospital I stopped giving a fuck.” I explain and the room goes quiet. No one knows what to say after I talk about the hospital, Karl used to make jokes to make me laugh. I could tell no one was gonna make a joke here. I felt my pocket buzz and it was my actual phone that I still use, I pulled it out and looked at it.
Quackity, where are you?
“Who’s that?” Dream asks me. It was Schlatt, who the fuck else would be texting me where I am? No one gives that much of a shit, especially since it’s whatever time it was. To be honest I hadn’t checked the time until now, it was 11:04. I never really had a curfew. I just came home when I got the text.
Quackity it’s time to come home.
“It’s my dad, he says I need to come home. Where’s the nearest bus stop?” I ask putting my phone in my pocket without responding to him, Schlatt could fuck off. Read messages were on so he would see that I read it. I zip up my backpack, making sure the flip phone was in my pocket instead of the bag this time, I didn’t want something to happen to it.
“Here I can take you home.” Wilbur offers me, standing up. he looks around forhiscoat and car keys. I didn’t want to bother him to take me out again, not when it was snowing and he just got here.
“No, I can take the bus.” I tell her, waving him off. He sits back down, biting his lip like he wanted to argue but didn’t. I don’t know what I would do if he did.
I stand up and I start to walk towards the stairs. I know the bus wasn’t even running now, why did I lie? What the fuck am I even doing at this point?
“What no goodbye?” Wilbur calls after me. I mentally cringe and turn back to everyone. This felt forced and they all know it. They all know how fucked I am. They all know that I am nothing but a sad sack of shit.
“It was nice meeting you all. I’ll see you around school I guess?” I shrug. School wouldn’t be in session for another week and a half, I did perfect timing for trying to kill myself because my break was extra long.
“Quackity at least let me get your number.” Wilbur says to me. He stands up, walks over to me with phone in hand, and has me type in my number. I type it in quickly, thinking that I could type in the wrong one on purpose, and hand his phone back to him. He smiles at me and goes to sit back down. I take one last look at everyone in the basement.
This whole thing felt weird, it felt forced. They probably didn’t even want me here. Wilbur and Dream are the only ones who truly talked to me without making me feel like shit. Everyone else just sat there for no goddamn reason. They probably hate me, they want me gone. I want to be gone.
I should have typed my number wrong, and now I regret not doing that.
I turn back to the stairs and start to climb up them. I try, and struggle, to remember how I made it there and when I do make it to the front door, I open it to see it is still snowing. I looked back but the lady wasn’t anywhere near by. I stop and pull out my umbrella before continuing to walk out into the snow.
Honestly the snow isn’t too bad. I mean we always get too much but it is near Christmas time. At least I didn’t kill myself on Christmas, how fucked would that be? Well maybe it’s what Schlatt does deserve but I’m on loose suicide watch so I probably won’t be able to.
I walked down the street just thinking about how I could just die tonight if I tried hard enough.
I was about a block away from the house when a car pulled up next to me, hopefully an axe murder. Sadly it wasn’t, it was Dream. I don’t look at him as he unrolls the window.
“Get in, I’m taking you home.” He tells me, unlocking the car.
“I’m fine, I’m going to take the bus.” I tell him and he rolls his eyes.
“Quackity we both know that the buses stop running at 11. So just get into the car and I will take you home.” He tells me and I cringe yet again. I’m left with the option of either going and maybe getting murdered, or if I stay out here I will get murdered.
Yet again it’s a win win either way. I close my umbrella, open up the car door and hop in. “You live in the same neighborhood as Karl right?” He asks me and I nod, not even going to question how he knew that. We head in that direction. “So, do I get to hear the voicemail or no?”
“You want to hear the voicemail?” I ask, confused, why did he want to hear it? He looks at me and he nods.
On one hand I could say no, but he could just go home and listen to it on his computer, he could also share it with the others. On the other hand, I could show him it here so I know he isn’t listening behind my back, but would the others still want to hear it? Would he show it to them if they asked? Was it protected on that computer?
“Only if you want to share it.” He adds, I nod and my leg begins to shake again. I pull out the phone from my pocket, power it on and go to my voicemails. I make sure the volume is turned up before hitting play.
“Quackity! Hey buddy I miss you! I can’t wait to see you in 30 minutes so I’m calling you on my way there! I fucking love you man! I know I say it a shit ton but I love you and I am only the person I am because of you and you just mean so fucking much to me! Okay so glad you’re my best friend, like I can’t wait to be friends for the rest of our lives! I love you Quackity bye!”
Dream doesn’t say anything for a moment, so we just sit in silence. I don’t know what to say to him. We were nearing my neighborhood, this was almost over. What could be said after this whole conversation? What do you say after listening to someone’s dead best friend’s voicemail? Is this even real?
“Quackity, he loved you. He was in love with you.” He tells me as we start to enter the neighborhood. I point to my street but don’t say anything. He wasn’t in love with me, we were best friends. He sounds like Schlatt right now.
“No.” I said softly, we were going down my street now. I clenched my hands and they ached in pain from the earlier half moon cuts. I bit my lip and for the second time today I tasted the metallic taste.
“He was. Trust me when we hung out with him we could tell he was in love with you.” What was he doing? Why was he trying to convince me that my best friend was in love with me? He wasn’t. I know he wasn’t. Why was this a thing now?
“No he wasn’t. We were friends, that's it.” I point to my house and Dream parks in front of it but kept the doors locked. Why does no one believe me when I say it?
“Quackity, you might not have seen it but we did.” He tells me.
“What are you trying to do here, Dream? Karl wasn’t in love with me, he was my best friend. He was like my brother and that’s it. And at this point it doesn’t matter he’s dead, remember? Trying to convince me that he was in love with me for some god damn reason isn’t going to work. Now please unlock the door so I can leave the car.” I snapped at him. He doesn’t say anything but hits the unlock button, staring at me dead in the eyes. I open up the door and climb out.
“Quackity.” He says just as I am about to close the door. I bend down so I can look at him as he’s talking to me.
“What.” I say shortly. He looks at me, looks me directly in my eyes and says
“Just think about it. You may not want to admit it but look at the small things. You’ll start to see it too.” I roll my eyes and stand up fully. This was such bullshit, no one is fucking listening to me about this anymore.
“Thanks for the ride.” I snap and slam the car door shut. I think for a moment that if I grabbed some ice off the ground I could break the window, but turn around instead.
I walk up the driveway and stop in front of the door. I turn around and look out onto the street. Dream was still sitting in the car, he was on his phone. I roll my eyes and turn back to the door. I open it, get inside and close it. Hoping I’ll never see Dream or Wilbur or any of them again. They were only talking to me because of Karl anyway. They didn’t truly know me anyway.