One day there was a murder(but was there?)

Trigger warning: Murder, gore, suicide,zombie, bullying, existential.

Vincent...I dream about you almost every night. Your strength, your tenderness, your love... When there was you, I could live. I could do the things I like, be happy, I could...Breathe. Now I have panic attacks. I choke. You never let them come close. They glared at me, called me names behind my back. But never came close. Now they can stab me and no one will care.

Me and you were a walking stereotype. I was never man enough, you were always too brutal. But it was our stupid couple life. It was our world. Now...

Why did you leave me? Why did you think it's not "man enough" to ask for help?

That's where your cuts came...You probably never even had a cat...

How was I so stupid?

I walk to school alone. A crumpled piece of paper flies onto me. It cuts my hand and I wince. Vince...You'd have yelled at that person, or even more. And then I'd have calmed you down. And we'd go buy ice cream before we go to school...

I ignore the paper.

It is Amanda. The most popular girl in school. She hates me...For some reason. Always calls me stupid, lowlife,pathetic...Maybe I am. I'm nothing without Vince.

***

Everyone is crying and running. I look around. I think about you, Vince. You'd have held me...

Someone kicks me in the leg, I feel the dirt on it. "Go out, chicken! You die!"-yells Joe.

You know why they call me Chicken. I'm Henry, Hen...You've always called me Henny.

"What?-he mocks-Haven't your daddy?"

"We're literally about to die."-I hiss.

I'll die, Vincent. I don't believe in afterlife. Me and you won't meet again. I knew it the second I saw your bleeding hands and closed eyes. What's the point if holding back? My misery will finally end.

I'm...Happy...

I smile through my tears. They are hot and sweet against my tongue. My smile feels hurting my cheeks.

***

"Henny?"

Am I hallucinating...In the mountains of corpses I see you. You're not the same...But I recognise you. Your hair is still black, but now it looks like ash...

You come to me and your hands grasp my shoulders.

Tears fill my eyes and I hold you into my arms. "Vincent..."

"Yeah,me..."

I look into your milky eyes. "Why...-I whisper-WHY DID YOU DIE?"-I scream.

I can't be mad at you...Or I can...I am now, but still feel I can't...HOW?

"Hen,I...-you...hesitate- I didn't? I stalked you!"-he screams back, pulling me closer.

I break free. "What?"

"What? Thought you could just what? Use me?"-you laugh.

"What?"

"The whole story. I'm your object. But I never left."

I understand nothing...Story?

"Why do you think we talk the same? The author still didn't master writing different voices."

Authour? What are you talking about?

"Do you think dead people turn into zombies in real life? Dead people are dead."

I step away from you. "Maybe...But...I feel real..."

"So do all characters in all books."

"And the cliches? Do you think the most popular kids would really care about some loser?"

But...I realise popular kids who have a billion friendships really would't.

"But...WHAT'S THE POINT OF THIS STORY?"-I break down, crying my eyes out. WHAT IS GOING ON? IT'S WEIRD EVEN FOR A STORY! A STORY SHOULD HAVE A MEANING, STRUCTURE, MORAL!

"Life has no point either. Parents of tthe author made her as well as she made us. For what? Noone knows. But sacrifice stories are just boring, don't you think?"-you laugh.

I...Laugh too. Crying or screaming would be too stereotypical...

There probably should be some speech in the end. But the point of it? The author...Author. She sits in her comfortable table while I stand and think about how unreal I am. But I am. She will show this story to her parents and I...I realise my parents are not even mentioned. So if I was real, I'd probably at least realise I have them or had them...

And you...Are just a reader. From a competition, or a casual one. Doesn't matter. It does not.

I just talk to you like to Vince cause...The author made me to.

The authour made me do everything I do. And even realising this...

Is what the author wants me to know.

(Don't read further please, I needed to do this to fill the minimum word limit,PLEASE DON'T GO FURTHER)

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