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Sal sluggishly awoke to the muffled sound of his alarm blaring in his ears, body trembling as he reached over to turn it off. He gently pressed down on the snooze button, which thankfully was enough to turn it off and stop the loud noise. He collapsed face first back onto his bed, coughing and gagging into his pillows.
Sal had tried to kill himself last night. He had been having a breakdown over something he can't even remember, and ended up taking however many antipsychotics he had left before passing out in bed. Ultimately his attempt has failed horribly, and now he had to go to school while suffering the after effects.
Immediately after pulling himself out of bed across his apartment to reach the bathroom, he was kneeled down in front of the toilet, violently vomiting into it. Once he was finished vomiting up whatever he had left in his stomach, he forced himself to shower and continue getting ready, too out of it to do his usual pigtails or even put his glass eye in. The kids at school could handle seeing someone with only a single eye, and if he got weird looks for it, he definitely wouldn't notice in this state.
The rest of his morning passed by in a sluggish blur before he eventually found himself sitting in 3rd period, staring at the paper on his desk nauseously before slowly registering that someone was gently shaking his shoulder, trying to get his attention. Sal slowly turned his head to look at the source of the shaking, meeting Larry's eyes tiredly.
"Dude, Sal, I've been trying to talk to you for the last 5 minutes. You okay?"
Sal blinked at him before turning back to the paper on his desk, writing his answer instead of communicating verbally. He didn't trust his own voice to not come out slurred or weird in a way that would raise suspicion. It took him a solid two minutes just to write "I feel sick, can't talk" because of how often he would accidentally misspell a word in the midst of his haze and have to rewrite it. He slid the paper closer to Larry with a shaky hand.
Larry had been watching Sal struggle to write down his answer the entire time, giving him a sympathetic look when he was finally able to read what it said. Barely. Sal's handwriting had severely degraded apparently.
"Oh..okay. You should go to sleep then, I'll wake you up before the bell rings. Maybe we should go to the nurse after too, if you're feeling sick.."
Sal shrugged ever so slightly before nodding a bit, putting his head down on the desk, burying his face in his arms and almost immediately falling asleep.
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When he eventually stirred back awake, he found himself back in his apartment, curled up in his bed with his mask at his bedside. He slowly sat up and looked around, wondering how the hell he even got here. He had JUST been at school how on earth did he make it all the way back to his apartment while also having zero recollection of even leaving the school building. Sal rubbed at his face in frustration, trying to wrack his sluggish brain for answers.
He hated feeling this way. He hated trying to repeatedly overdose and kill himself time and time again just for it to never work and ending up basically bedridden for a few days after. He kept telling himself he would stop, or at least find a different method just so he wouldn't have to feel like this, but he couldn't stop. He had tried hanging, but he had backed out before kicking the chair, and ended up right back at the pill bottle.
Laying back on the bed, he sighed quietly and curled into him, falling back asleep. There was no point in being awake if it all it did was make him suffer.
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"Saaall...Sallllyyy....wake up, bro..you gotta eat, man.."
Sal slowly rolled over, feeling the crust around his eyes as he opened them. He glanced up at Larry, who was holding a small, clear, container of soup, before looking behind him at Travis, who silently stared at him with his arms crossed. Sal instinctively sat up and pushed himself back against the wall, covering his face with his hands.
"Why's Travis here.."
His words slurred slightly as he spoke, it was obvious to even his own ears, but he hoped neither of them noticed. He uncovered his face slightly as he heard Larry put the soup down on his nightstand before feeling him ruffle the top of his head.
"Church boy said he was worried about ya. You told me you two were on better terms now, anyway, friends even, so there shouldn't be a problem with him being here right?"
Sal watched Travis slap the back of Larry's head before wiping his hand on his shorts.
"Do not lie on my name, Johnson! I am not worried about that freak! I just...I just think I deserve to know what's wrong with him since you made me help carry him back here."
"I already told you I dunno, he's just sick."
Larry picked up the soup container and shoved it into Sal's hands.
"Okay, eat up! Or..drink up, I guess!!! Don't throw it up on me, aim for Phelps."
Sal stared down at the soup in his lap for a moment before taking the lid off the container. It smelled like some sort of chicken soup..Larry probably just got this from a can in his pantry. He quietly brought the container to his lips, taking little sips here and there, listening to Larry talk about some new video game he found in the apartment's lost and found box, with Travis lingering nearby, observing Sal. Larry turned to rummage through his backpack, presumably to look for the game before groaning and saying something about forgetting it in his room, before practically sprinting out the door, leaving Travis and Sal alone.
"What did you take?"
Sal looked over at Travis, blinking at him.
"What?"
"I know you overdosed on something. Either that or you're high or drunk, but I know you don't like the stuff. Your pupils are tiny as hell and you're slurring your words."
Sal just shrugged. He didn't even remember what he took last night, just grabbing whatever bottle he saw first. Not that he would tell Travis either.
Travis sighed, running his hands through his hair.
"Did you already throw it up?
Sal nodded.
Travis nodded back, sitting on the edge of his bed. He glanced at the door silently before scooting close to Sal on the bed, quickly wrapping his arms around him for a few seconds before standing and retreating back to the corner of the boy's room.
Sal just stared at him in a mix of confusion and embarrassment until Larry returned to the room, showing them whatever game he had been going on about.
"Phelps, you ever play something like this?"
"..My father doesn't allow me to play video games."
"Dude, seriously? What a bore! Let's change that right now, I'll hook this up to Sal's TV."
"What-? I just said- ugh..Alright, whatever."
Sal watched the two of them play the game for what must have been hours, Larry beating Travis's ass in it horribly, resulting in Travis throwing the controller at him.
Sal giggled.
Maybe he'd stay away from the mountains of pills for a bit..