“Hey, Pete."
You weren’t sure why you were doing this. It wasn’t going to accomplish anything; it wouldn’t make them stop, it wouldn’t bring help. All you were doing is listening to the sound of your own voice and honestly, it wasn’t helping.
You didn’t stop though. It was like your voice was on stuck on the play bottom and the pause button had broken, forever to repeat the same thing over and over and over and over until- until nothing, really. Until the universe crumbled. Until you crumbled.
“It’s (y/n) - obviously. Who else would be calling you at three in the morning?” A chuckle escaped through your lips. It sounded dead to your ears.
“I- um- I don’t know what to say. What can I say? It’s just- it’s, um, happening again, is all and I…I don’t know what to do.” You pause, eyes falling to the ground of your bedroom door. You noticed the pile of clothes you’d thrown down as soon as you came in. you should probably clean that up.
“I don’t even know why I’m doing this. Maybe I just like the sound of my own voice. Maybe I just wish I could replace it with yours. You always knew- know what to say. Even when you thought you didn’t, even when you really didn’t, just hearing you speak helped. You could’ve been talking about your science projects - you know, the ones I never really understood - and I would’ve loved it. Just- just hearing you-,” Your voice broke suddenly and you looked up in bewilderment. There was a blur in front of your eyes. You blinked once, twice, three times and felt the wet slide of tears break free.
A hand flew to your cheeks, wiped them away before you realised what you were doing and you looked away.
“I went to school today.” You began, “I went to school and I did the usual classes. Mrs Matterson was teaching science; she’s just come back from maternity leave. She has a beautiful baby girl - she named her Dolores. She’s fine, the baby’s healthy. Mrs Matterson misses-.”
You clench your jaw.
"I thought I was prepared for the normality of it all, you know. It shouldn’t be hard, going back to that hellhole. It wouldn’t ever change, no matter what. I wasn’t, though. Not really. It was a lot harder than I thought possible. Nothing had changed; the classes were normal, the students and teachers were normal, even the decathlon team was normal. Maybe that was the problem though. The normality of it all felt…wrong. Like a betrayal. It feels bad saying that. Others have moved on, simple as. They’re allowed to move on, I’d encourage it, in fact!”
“Maybe it’s jealousy. Maybe it’s bitterness. Maybe my heart is just destined to break knowing others have found a purpose and I- well, I haven’t. But it’s not easy. I’ve tried. God, have I tried! But-!”
You sighed.
“Flash was there, at the decathlon hall today. He was his usual dickish self. I don’t think he’ll ever change but I really could have done without him. Breathing’s hard enough without his air polluting it. Though MJ told him to fuck off and for once, he actually listened…
Maybe he isn’t as unaffected as he pretends to be.”
You blinked.
“Maybe none of us are.”
You looked back to the phone. The phone was off, the black screen devoid of everything but your face. You stared back. Your reflection looked so dead to you.
You looked away, blinked.
Ah, yes, you hadn’t even turned your phone on yet… you forgot.
Huh.
Your eyes slipped closed and you felt a tremble in your hands. It didn’t stop.
“Goodbye, Peter.”
Maybe, if you kept your eyes closed for long enough, you’ll hear a voice answer back.
Which is silly.
The dead can't talk.