Doors Slowly Closing (by Missy)

        Of course it was possible that he'd just lost it that morning. He could have just woken up and decided that he had suffered enough. Perhaps he'd come to the conclusion that nobody could really help. The one thing you could never escape was your own mind. Prison? It's only four walls but sometimes the mind is the smallest prison of all. So he'd just disappeared, vanished, and with no trace. There were notable famous cases of people who'd done just that, either committing suicide or simply disappearing, never to be seen again. Had he followed the same path? They say that life begins on the other side of despair, and perhaps to many it had seemed that way with him. Admittedly he had improved somewhat. He'd never returned to the depths of desperation of locking himself himself away in his flat, indulging in self-mutilation, fasting and drinking, as he had just over a year ago. It had been almost three days before those closest to him began to suspect the worse and tried to get in contact with him. What they found was ultimately worse than they had expected. In the end, he would only allow one of his two best friends - you - to enter the bathroom where he'd locked himself. When all the others were finally permitted to enter they found him bleeding and crying, wrapped in your arms in the corner of the bathroom on the floor. Vulnerable and so small. A moment later you all heard him whimper, "I think I need help…"
          And so help he'd received, or so everyone thought. A lengthy spell in a hospital had no real effect except further alienate him from those around him. The humanity almost ripped from his soul, weeks spent drugged out of his skull. He reappeared three months later a shadow of himself. Borderline anorexic, totally shattered. Yet despite concerns about his health he managed to gain some stability in his life again by throwing himself headfirst into his work. What would later become known as his last ever performance, he had appeared as the ultimate icon. Beautiful until the end but with a haunted look in his eyes. You could almost see the pain. Those once innocent Bambi brown eyes now silently spoke of horror and continual unrest. Eyes that had seen too much. A testament to all that he had suffered and to all that he had endured. Looking back his disappearance had been perfectly planned. The week prior he'd said his goodbyes to those closest to him, whether they realised it at the time or not.
          He spent his entire last weekend with you. You'd been friends for as long as you could remember - he'd even lost his virginity to you. You managed Friday night without anything happening but the following morning, about 5am, you'd sneaked into his room and into his bed. You didn't sleep together though…not until that evening. After a wild night out, your lips dangerously close, your hands all over each other's bodies, you made your way back to your flat. Walking into the kitchen wearing the baby-doll dress you knew drove him wild, he beckoned you over to him where he was leaning against the table in the half-light. Whispering a belated happy birthday he handed you a small box. Slowly opening it a thin shaft of light from the open window revealed a tiny silver crucifix. Your eyes filled with tears, at which point he took it out of your hands and proceeded to fasten it around your neck, all the while staring you deep in the eyes. After glancing down to admire it a moment later your lips met with a passion that needed no words. His hands in your hair, awakening every nerve in your body, he pushed you up against the kitchen counter. "I wanna fuck you", he whispered, his hands already working their way up your thighs under your dress. Never before had you heard such urgency and complete domination in his voice. It turned you on even more than you already were. Pressing his pelvis hard against yours he started to edge your knickers down, still staring you straight in the eyes. Erotic didn't come close. A second later he was dragging you towards the bed. You made love like you never had before. He touched you as though it was the last chance he would ever get … Little did you know that it was. When you awoke the following morning he'd already left - supposedly making his way back to Cardiff. He'd left you a note on the pillow beside you. It simply read, "I love you". That was the last time you ever saw him…