Work Text:
Hey.
It’s been another very long day, you know. I’m drunk. So drunk that I’ve tried to sit on the bed and I tripped, taking down with me a lamp and whatever was on the bedside table.
And now I stay here.
Because everything’s turning.
And because I don’t have the strength to get up. I don’t have the strength for anything anymore.
Well, my back also hurts quite a lot.
And there’s glass around me. I could easily hurt myself, I want that pain. I need that pain.
But I can’t move.
Another anonymous hotel room. Another anonymous night.
I’m so tired. So sick and tired.
I’m giving up.
You know, I think it always had to be this way. I always knew I was going to die alone. You’re the only one still with me. Even if you’re a ghost.
My fingers brush the blade that fell with everything else that was on the table. The idea of pain and oblivion a gentle balm on my constant despair. I take it. Close it in a fist.
I’ve lost all of you. I’ve lost you, more than anything.
No one can help me, can’t you understand? You never understood, no one of you. I’m unsalvageable. I’ve always been. I’ve always knew.
And you’ve become a ghost. A ghost I always confided in, since you finally understood that for your own good you had to leave me alone. You just appear when I need you the most.
I know I hurt myself too much for you to keep on staying by my side.
I think you finally understood that there’s no use in trying to save someone who doesn’t want to be saved.
I have other friends now. Friends that understand I have to hurt myself, punish myself, to try and heal something that broke inside me since I was born. They encourage me, they don’t stop me; they know how it feels. I don’t understand why you always believed I could get better. And with you I mean the other five, you included.
You always look at the bright side of things.
That’s a thing I always envied you.
Maybe we did everything wrong, Scholle. Maybe you shouldn’t have encouraged me to start singing. Maybe you should’ve considered someone else. Sure, we wouldn’t have conquered the world together, but we wouldn’t be in this situation now. I wouldn’t have discovered how bad the world can get. I wouldn’t have discovered how bad I can get. I wouldn’t be talking to your ghost. My imaginary friend.
And to think you were the realest of my friends.
I wish I could go back in time and told you “no” that time. So much suffering and for what? For a fucking band? Going to the point of hating each other? To the point of me switching the blade open now? Shining in the slight light of the lamp… Tempting… Alluring…
I could simply drive it into my heart. If I still have one.
One sharp blow between my ribs.
Or I could simply trace a long bloody line from my wrist to my inner arm, cutting through the inked eels on my skin, decapitating them, letting them bleed what’s left of me.
Remember? You believed in me. Even when no one was. And your hugs. Well, you’ve always been quite the hugger, to be fair. But… Those were the best balm. I wish you could hug me now. I wish…
Would you tell me that everything’s going to be okay? Even now?
Yeah, you would. Even during the worst time of my life, you were there reassuring me. God, remember? I wasn’t sure about going on with the tour that horrendous summer and you were there, telling me “No, you don’t have to worry. The fans will believe in us.”
And they did.
Oh, Scholle. Maybe you were always right. Maybe you know me more than I know myself.
With all the adventures we lived, all the troubles we suffered and went through, all the things we shared… We know each other so well.
I miss you guys. I hate to admit it. I miss all of you. Is it because this is the last night of my life? Or is it because… I do miss you all. We always stuck together. We did the best we could to stay as close as possible, remember? Why did we put so much effort into that, because sometimes I don’t get it. Other than we managed to do magic somehow. We were magic, weren’t we? God, why does a smile escape me, why… I don’t want to miss all five of you, I don’t want to miss what brought me here…
And I miss you.
I look back now, and I see all the times I let you down. How I wasn’t there for you when you were the most vulnerable. But you did. You’ve always been there.
And you’re here now, as a ghost.
Well, it’s easy to imagine you. I think I know your face better than I know mine. And I can picture your voice just by telling myself your name and there you are. My imaginary friend. Born in my head one day, when I cut myself too deep and I got scared. And I heard your voice, clear as day, telling me not to panic and to tampon it with a towel.
And I followed its every direction because I know I can always trust you.
And all the times your ghostly hand held mine in the moments I most hated myself, or when I could feel it in my hair the times I was vomiting my guts out because of alcohol, drugs, and whatever could help me digest the utter disgust in me…
Or your voice.
Your words.
Sometimes reassuring.
Sometimes harsh and brutal, to get me back to reality.
And suddenly I wish I could hear it for real and not just in my head.
The blade is still in my hand. It calls me, it calls me, it calls me…
What should I do now, Scholle?
I’m scared, I’m scared again. I know that this is my end, but…
Why do I still cling to life so much? Everything’s over. What is there to believe in anymore? What is there for me anymore? I just want everything to end, as soon as possible.
And the memories of who I was, who we were, flash in my head…
A dream turned into a nightmare… But how good was it when everything was new and perfect, when step after step we conquered everything, and how our friendship grew, and how…
How soon we discovered we had to protect it.
“Mr. Lindemann, are you okay?” someone calls out from the closed door, startling me.
I snort, annoyed. Just go away. Just leave me alone. Just… “I’m okay.” I don’t even recognize my own voice. Crooked and tired, with no will to even mask the dread I feel.
“Are you sure? We heard some heavy commotion.”
Who the fuck… Just fucking go away. “Yes, everything’s fine.”
Silence. Steps going away from the door.
Leave me alone…
All of you…
Scholle, stay here though. Stay with me.
God, I wish you would just… Appear in your real form.
Or call me, I don’t know. Even if it’s years I don’t hear from you.
Would you hold my hand while I stop all of this pain?
You know, Scholle, I think I want to choose a favorite memory to hold close while I do this.
But there’s so many…
Remember when we lived together? Two single dads against the world? You and your ridiculous blonde dreads, another smile escapes my lips, why does your memory do this to me…
Or even before that, two young boys trying to survive in the GDR?
Oh God, my eyes are filling up with tears.
I don’t even remember the last time I cried.
I feel them glide on my face, like a tender caress.
Memories flash in my head still.
All the times I tried to avoid your hugs, but you still did.
All the times you needed me, and I gave you the cold shoulder.
I cannot believe I managed to drive you away from me.
God did I take you for granted.
What if I want you back?
What if an imaginary friend is not enough? Not tonight, not ever.
The hand that holds the blade is the same that with a sudden motion throws it across the room.
I hear it falling somewhere with a clang.
My hands tremble now.
I search for my cellphone.
I find it next to me.
I fell on it, the display is cracked. But I manage to unlock it. It still works.
I shouldn’t do this. I don’t deserve your forgiveness.
But if this is the last night of my life, if this is really it, I just want to hear your voice one last time…
I still have your number saved.
How could I even think of deleting it.
Scholle, please stay with me.
I press the green button; the call is sent.
Answer me. I pray, pressing the speaker button.
It’s a few seconds. And exactly as I expected, you answer.
I didn’t have any doubt.
You’re still my best friend. Imaginary and real at the same time.
“…Till?”
Your voice. I didn’t forget it, it’s still the one I imagine when you talk to me in my head.
I can hear some incredulousness, some worry, but the same, usual love you’ve always reserved me.
It’s enough to make me start crying uncontrollably.
I was wrong, Scholle. I need you. I need your unshakeable love for me. I want to start over again, I don’t want to die… I want this to be the night when this Till dies, and a new one arises from the ashes…
“Scholle… Please help me.”