Dyllan pulled his covers tight over his head, blocking out the persistent morning sun. It had been five days since the disaster of a battle against what Andie had flippantly dubbed the “Drugmare,” as well as the literal living embodiment of his darker side. More importantly, it had been three days since Dustin died of an overdose. Three days since someone died a slow, painful, and miserable death.
All because of him.
“Oh! Andie, sweetie! I wasn’t expecting to see you.” Dyllan could hear his mother’s voice from the living room. He tried to ignore it. “Dyllan is in his room, but don’t bother trying to get him out. This isn’t the first time this has happened, and last time it took little Cedric over a month to get him out of there.”
“I see, but with all due respect, I doubt you ever tried my method.” Dyllan heard Andie’s footsteps trail up to his door, then near silence as she took a deep breath. “DYLLAN! GET YOUR CLINICALLY DEPRESSED ASS OUT HERE!”
Dyllan stayed silent. It didn’t matter how persistent Andie was, she’d give up eventually, as long as he didn’t respond. On the first day she’d keep talking for a long time, anywhere from two to three hours. Then she’d sit there in silence for just as long. Then she’d spend a quarter of the time she did on the first day for about a week. A week or two more would be spent with just five to ten minute check ins every day, and then she’d stop coming. That was the way it had always been. Some people lasted longer than others, but they all gave up on him eventually. Except Cedric. Then again, Cedric had only stuck around for two and a half weeks more than everyone else, maybe he would have given up eventually too. If not, he really should have. Dyllan was nothing but trouble, all he ever did was bring pain and -
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“Dammit you’re monologuing melodramatically in there aren’t you!” Andie grumbled angrily then fell silent for a while. “Fine we’ll do it your way.”
“Look, Dyllan…” Cedric’s voice echoed softly from the other side of the door, almost tempting Dyllan to open the door. “I know how… devastating this sort of thing can be for you, you’re a naturally - wait, Andie! Where are you going! Hey!” Footsteps trailed away from the door to Dyllan’s room, then returned. Accompanied by the sound of something metal being dragged along the floor. “ANDIE! No! Put the axe down! You can’t chop his door down!”
Adrenaline rushed through Dyllan’s body as he leapt out of his bed and sprinted over to the door, fumbling with the lock in a mad struggle to open it before its untimely destruction. Eight seconds later, the door swung open to reveal a definitively axe-less Andie, and one smug Cedric holding onto a metal kitchen stool.
“You know…” Andie’s face twisted up in a slightly confused smile. “I’m kind of offended that that worked.”