You fall asleep.

You don’t remember doing so, nor that happening the first weeks, but you wake up to the slam of a door and a loud thump.

You’re still in the living room, TV on, mug of coffee on the table, but Matt’s nowhere to be seen.

fucking tired of this

You blink at the thought, it wasn’t yours. The image of a knife and the milk carton and that look on his face...

Shit. Matt.

When you go through the door (and you barely register the pain this time) the first thing you notice it’s that Matt’s not crying.

You thought he should be, because his head is a mess.

fucking useless why would i help what would it mean why

You shake your head, Matt’s thoughts making it hard for you to concentrate.

Matt’s books and shelf are on the floor and you stare at him, confused. He’s covering his face and holding something on his hand, it looks like-

“Matt, no,” you yell, as if someone would listen for fuck’s sake. But you can’t stop him.

It’s the knife.

Matt looks up at you, but doesn’t really focus. He holds the knife with steady fingers and doesn’t even lift up his sleeve and-

“Matt, wait, we can talk it through, it’ll be better,” you try, jumping in front of him, but he just won’t listen and he’s not even looking at you.

And you start to panic.

“Matt,” You say, placing your hands on his shoulders, you hate being this now more than ever. You can’t stop him when you pass right through him. ”Matt, please.”

You can’t save people, can you?

When blood starts to come off the cut, it gets too real, too fast.

“Matt,” you yell, tears rolling down your cheeks and suddenly pain is all you can think of. Your hands hits Matt’s and the knife flies across the room causing a loud clink.

You had never touched him. He’s so warm.

But you recognize this feeling and in your head you start counting back.

you can’t go around appearing in the world of the living ones, said the kid.

Apparently it’s time to prove that theory.

6.

You fall hard on your knees, gasping for air.

5.

Matt looks at you, thoroughly impressed. But you know there’s not a lot of time left, so you scramble for the phone with trembling hands, head pounding and blood running down your nose.

4.

You make a noise as you dial 911 and when your eyes meet Matt’s…

please don’t let it be the last time

3.

The voice at the other side of the line takes you by surprise.

2.

Matt falls on the floor, his hand loosely holding his bleeding wound.

Matt has to live.

1....

“Help him,” you beg, but you have no idea if you make it in time.

***

Every time you wake up, you feel like you’re getting out of water, just a second away from drowning.

The first things you notice, are brown eyes staring down at you.

“You’re…” you start. The kid from the room. “What are you doing here?”

“How rude you didn’t even ask me how I was,” he says, and you’re taking into account that you don’t even know his name. Maybe it’s easier this way.

“Where am I?” You ask, not even recognizing the room you were brought in when you died. You must be really confused. “Did I run out of time?” You ask, panicking.

And then the memories come back at you, hitting you like a punch.

“Matt,” you say, sitting up abruptly. “Shit, fuck, I need to go back, just five more minutes-”

The kid looks back at you with curious eyes and he puts a hand on your shoulder, and you feel blindsided. It’s weird not to feel any pressure. How can you call it comfort when it’s just the intention? Not even the gesture.

“There’s something I need to do,” you try to focus on Matt’s house, try to picture yourself going there, but it doesn’t work.

“I know,” He says, calmly and you’re starting to recognize his wisdom as something else. He’s a child who died after all. Why didn’t you think about it sooner?

You unceremoniously scramble on the floor for a moment, shock taking the best of you, but the kid doesn’t go after you. You quickly picture the room in the middle of the house -room with no doors, the voice- and you’re glad when it works right away.

The voice is mandatory this time and you can’t help but shudder.

you can’t interfere with the living

You shake your head immediately.

“I wasn’t,” Matt’s got to live. He can’t die just yet. “I wasn’t.”

rules are rules

Your eyes fill with tears and your chest feels heavy.

It can't end like this.