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patrickispinky

4 months ago

Sex, Drugs, Etc.

Pt.3

Warnings: Talk of drugs/Drug use. A lot of plot. EXTREME Canon divergence. Before Maddies time. Set in 2022. Sleep Paralysis. Panic attack. Blood. Hearing voices. Disassociation. Suicide? Drowning. This is NOT meant to romanticize addiction or mental illness. (This chapter turned out a little darker than I wanted it to. I was kinda just going with the flow and this is how it turned out. I never really have a plan when writing so sorry if this isn't what was expected and sorry that Wally hasn't been shown a lot. I know its a Wally Clark x reader but I mainly write for plot. I don't recommend reading if any of the warnings above could possibly trigger you. Take care of yourself lovelys)

2.1k words

Pt.2

The impending doom that creeps over you when you realize you can’t move is a feeling you didn’t miss. Like the grim reaper himself was looming over you, waiting for the perfect time to strike. Maybe it wasn’t the worst idea, maybe he could take you away from this place, make you not feel so trapped.

Sleep was rare, but when it did come it wasn't peaceful. He stood there, not moving a muscle, almost like he was teasing you. At some point you started considering him a friend, he didn’t like that very much. The sight of him slowly creeping forward left you short of breath. He couldn’t hurt you, you knew that but it didn’t change the way your stomach fell to your ass. Throat begging to be able to make a sound, limbs feeling completely numb.

The sound of his steps like gunshots getting louder and louder the closer he got consumed you. “Bang! Bang! BANG!” You shot up, taking deep breaths as you got a grip of your surroundings. It was still dark and you were more over to the edge of the lockers, almost falling off. The cold sweat dripping down your forehead makes you consider getting up and taking a shower, the sleepiness completely erased from your body. But you couldn’t, it was too similar to where- A shiver ran down your spine at the thought.

As you jump down from your place on top of the lockers you don’t feel the dizziness you normally would from such a movement, no blood rush to your head or weakness in your knees. Guess being dead has its perks.

It was hard to see, no light from the windows or fluorescents blinding you. You didn’t know what time it was, having learned that your phones still stuck on the time you took your last breath but you assumed you still had a few hours before the halls would be filled with tired teens.

Something about the silence that bounced off every corner left an uncomfortable feeling in the far end of your mind. Silence was normally comforting, peaceful, but something about this absence of sound made you want to scream, fill the emptiness with your own noise. It was suffocating, or maybe it was just lonely, either way you didn’t like it.

There's nothing to do here, the one thing you wanted you couldn't get your hands on. You're alone, truly honestly fucking alone. The realization felt like being stabbed, not in the heart but straight through your stomach where you'd be left to bleed out. As the tightening in your chest began to form you ran, as fast as you could to the first exit and pushed it open. The cold December air like a wave of relief as you took deep intakes of breath. Chest still feeling like it was being crushed by a semi truck as you let your body fall down to the ground, and that's when the tears fell. Not baby tears, no, sobs. The type that makes you want to throw up. “FUUUCK!” Your fists hit the pavement repeatedly as you feel your face go numb from crying. You laid there, for god knows how long, beating the pavement until your knuckles were bleeding and no more water could physically escape your eyes.

As you sit there, no longer able to feel anything you hear the sound of the door open behind you. “That kind of aggression can be really dangerous.” The voice didn’t seem too familiar. As you turn you see the big eyed redhead who gave you the idea of sleeping on top of the lockers. You didn’t know what to say as she sat down beside you, her 70’s hippy aesthetic reminding you of a group you used to hang around. “You know I meditate when I'm upset.”

You let out a soft chuckle at the idea. “Yeah, my uncle Roscoe used to make me meditate.” A smile grows on your face at the memory, your eyes fixed on the pavement in front of you. “He said ‘it will heal your inner spirit’ it was kinda nice actually.” The image of his smile when you finally agreed to trying it after months of him begging you to was burned into the back of your brain.

“Your spirits all you have left now, it's important to take care of it.” There was a spacyness to her voice, like she wasn’t fully there. Her mind drifting off into a different reality. For the first time since she came outside she looked at you, really looked at you, like she was staring into your soul and feeling your pain. “Take care of yourself.”

“Thank you” Those were the only words you could muster up, the back of your throat dry and sore from screaming and crying. Without waiting a beat she stood up, going back inside almost like she was never there, the door closing with a click. It was silent again, but this silence was peaceful, content, the type that makes you feel safe.

After about 10 minutes you decide it's time to go back inside where it's somewhat warm. As you go to open the door it doesn't budge. “Shit” You deliver a few frustrated kicks to the door before giving up. The redheaded girl already long gone. As you slide down, back to the door already accepting your fate, you let your head hit the cold metal with a thud. What a great fucking night.

Wally was sleeping peacefully in the teachers lounge on the second floor when a scream awoke him. “FUUUCK!” This made him sit up, looking around confused, eyes still not adjusted to the dark.

“What the fuck?” He jumped up, stumbling over to the window due to not being fully awake. As he looked out he saw you, on the ground punching the pavement, it looked like you were crying. He knew it would happen eventually, he even overheard Rhonda and Charley making bets the day you died on how long it would take you to break. Grief was weird, especially when you’re grieving your own death. Nothing could ever prepare you for it.

He debated on whether or not he should go out there and check on you. You seemed like the type of person who liked to be alone with your pain, it didn’t stop him from wanting to wrap you in a big hug and tell you it’s gonna be alright.

He watched your movements slow as you grew tired, the anger and adrenaline wearing off, no doubt leaving you feeling more empty than you were before the outburst. Even though your breath evened out and the blood on your fists disappeared he could tell by the way you sat there, not moving that you still weren’t okay. Who could be? Nothing about anything was okay.

The sight of you stiffening as someone crept out behind you made him nervous until he saw the red haired bimbo he knew as Dawn sit down beside you. He didn’t know much about Dawn, she was just kinda there, some would call a drifter doomed to never pass on. Though he wasn’t sure if anyone would really pass on.

Whatever Dawn said to you seemed to make you feel at ease, your body loosening as you let your guard down. A comforting sight, you’re always on edge. Wally hasn’t seen you just let go since you got here, hell even when you were alive it was like you had a steel wall around you. The wall was still up but something about Dawn seemed to make you trust her in some odd way he couldn’t understand.

Wally decided to let Dawn handle it, he didn’t want to overwhelm you by having too many people around you. He understood how sensitive death makes people, even if you constantly try to act as though it doesn’t bother you he could tell you were slowly crumbling under the pressure.

He crept back over to the couch, wanting to get a little more sleep before the morning bell would ring, serving as an alarm for every resident of Split River high.

⚠This is when it gets really dark so read with caution ⚠

It wasn’t until 30 minutes later when Mr.Mandela showed up, unlocking the front door, that you were finally able to re-enter the school. It was still quiet and dark, the sun yet to make an appearance, but this was a different silence. The screams in your mind that didn’t get to make their way out with the rest of them filled it perfectly. But these weren't screams of anger, no, these were screams of desperation. Desperation for a way out, desperation for true silence, desperation for the fuzzy feeling that creates a barrier of protection, that makes you so numb you can't think.

Then the screams turned dark, mind frantic as they came up with new ideas. ‘The pool’ This one was a whisper, somehow making its way past the louder voices. ‘The gym’ and that's when it came to you. As you made your way to the gym the screaming didn’t stop, they knew what was best for you. At least that's what you convinced yourself in this moment of desperation.

The sound of your heavy breaths and the screaming was all you could hear as you frantically pushed the gym door open and made your way to where they hold weight lifting classes. You grabbed two 50 pound weights that would normally be difficult to lift but something in you made them feel like feathers. It might have been adrenalin, from what exactly? You didn’t know, but nothing could stop you from whatever your plan was. The voices became jumbled, all screaming the same thing just unsynchronized. ‘ROPE!’ Where the hell were you supposed to get rope? The theater.

Your brain was in overdrive, your thoughts not your own but the voices that drowned together to create a deafening screech. You don’t remember walking to the theater, it's like you blinked and you were there. Again you blinked and there was a rope in your hand and a stage light on the stage floor in front of you. There was a girl screaming at you about something that became muffled due to the onslaught of noise she couldn’t hear. With the weights on each of your shoulders, hands clutching them tightly and the rope placed over the back of your neck you rushed to the pool. Thinking that if you could run fast enough you could get away from the blurred together screaming. You knew it was pointless, it was a part of you, constantly reminding you that even death couldn’t fix you.

The world was a blur, your movements somehow in slow motion but frantic. As you pushed the door to the pool room you no longer felt like you were in control of yourself. Your limbs were moving on their own as you set the weights down, grabbing the rope, you tied it around your neck tight, making it almost impossible to breathe.

Nothing felt real, everything around you was distorted. You reached down, tying the weights to the end of the rope and within a blink you were in the water, the coldness shocking your system. Your brain had no time to process as water filled your ears, eyes burning from the chlorine. Your mouth clamped shut, not allowing the water in as you realized what was happening, finally becoming conscious as the voices began to settle. You tried to swim to the top but the weights held you down, thrashing your limbs violently as your lungs began to sting.

You attempt to untie the rope from your neck but your bodies grown weak from the lack of oxygen. The world went blurry as your head felt like it was going to explode. The pressure became too much, your limbs thrashing violently as you tried to escape the ropes tight grip. You couldn't take it anymore, your brain felt like it was turning into multan lava and with no other option your body forced you to do the one thing you had refused to do.

Your mouth opened, taking a deep breath. Water filled your lungs and your body felt like it was on fire. Hot panic soaring through you as you tried to cough up the water only for more to fill your lungs. This was it, you didn’t know what ‘it’ was exactly and that made it worse. The unknown, such a scary thing that you allowed yourself to walk right into.

Time felt like it was moving too slowly as you began to slip in and out of consciousness. At least now you’ll get some more sleep right? Fuck. Your body began to grow limp, no longer fighting your fate. The cloudiness in your head took over, unconsciousness taking you easily as everything went black.

Pt.4