I'm really sorry for writing this. Just wanted to apologize in advance. My first deathfic. I literally feel sick that I wrote it because Carlos is my baby, it's just this song has a really deep meaning to me (so try and listen to the song while reading) and I have been having some dark times and this just happened randomly. I write terrible things when I'm sad. If you decided to read it, I hope you're okay and I'll give you hugs. I need to go watch some videos of Carlos now. And I'll try to write something really cute soon to make up for this. xoxo.

Well, everybody's got a story to tell

And everybody's got a wound to be healed

I want to believe there's beauty here

'Cause oh I get so tired of holding on

I can't let go, I can't move on

I want to believe there's meaning here

Some people are better equipped to handle life more than others. Carlos was not one of them.

He tried, oh he tried. He loved the little things, took care of his friends, and prayed every day. But it was just too hard on his frail little heart. Somewhere in life, he lost hope. He couldn't hold on anymore, not when it hurt so badly. He was only 15 when he chose to end it. How could he have known, at such a young age, that things would change, get better, when almost his whole life all he knew was misery? He would never experience love, or his first kiss, or being in a band with his best friends, because he chose to take his life before it even started.

How many times have you heard me cry out

"God please take this"?

How many times have you given me strength to

Just keep breathing?

Oh, I need you

God, I need you now.

With a trembling hand and tear-blurred vision, Carlos reached into his parent's medicine cabinet and pulled out a petite orange bottle, labeled Oxcycodone. It was his father's pain medication, prescribed to him after he was diagnosed with the cancer that ended his life. Without his dad, Carlos was empty inside, lost. The bullying, anxiety, and depression he felt every day only got worse and grew stronger after his father's death. The very thing that kept his father going during his terrible illness, was about to snuff out Carlos' life.

Standing on a road I didn't plan

Wondering how I got to where I am

I'm trying to hear that still small voice

I'm trying to hear above the noise

Carlos was happy once, when he was younger and innocent. He never thought he'd be here, in a dark, cold bathroom, holding a lethal amount of pills in his tiny hand, his mother passed out in the living room with a bottle of Jack in her hands. But he just couldn't do it anymore, he couldn't think through the pain fogging his mind. Carlos had been suicidal before, but it was never this strong and overpowering. Usually, he would run to his best friend Kendall's house, and the older boy would hold him until he calmed down. But Carlos' depression clouded his brain like a drug, possessing him to press every pill into his mouth and swallow hard, choking a bit. As they slid down, one by one, Carlos felt this strange sense of relief, knowing he wouldn't have to deal with anything anymore. He could finally be free, with his papa, where he belonged. But almost immediately, the weightless, joyful feeling was replaced with guilt and despair, fear. Because after he swallowed the pills, he pictured in his mind the one person he forgot about. Kendall. He saw his dimpled, rosy cheeks and sparkling emerald eyes and thought of how he'd never see him again. Kendall was Carlos' best friend. Kendall loved Carlos. And soon, Carlos would leave him, gone from his life forever. Kendall didn't deserve that.

Oh I walk, Oh I walk through the shadows

And I, I am so afraid

Please stay, please stay right beside me

With every single step I take

Carlos fell to his knees in a panic. He needed Kendall, needed his strong arms around his waist and lips pressed to his ear, whispering his encouraging words to save him. He wished he would have picked a quicker way to die. He wished he had never swallowed those pills. Carlos didn't want to die. Maybe there was still hope. Maybe, if he got to Kendall soon enough, he could save him, just like he always did.

Carlos ran down the steps two at a time, already feeling a bit woozy. Tears of fear leaked from his eyes and down his flushed, hot cheeks. He didn't bother putting on a coat when he stepped out into the cold, rainy Minnesota night. Kendall lived 15 minutes away, but Carlos screamed his name the entire time he ran to his house. One time, he fell to the wet grass, out of breath and dizzy. He didn't feel well, and panic and side effects of the drug made it feel like his heart was clenching around itself. But he couldn't die, not yet. Not without saying goodbye to Kendall. If he had to die, he wanted it to happen in Kendall's arms, not alone on the side of a street.

Ill and weak, the small teenager picked himself up and stumbled the rest of the way to Kendall's house.

As thunder sounded high in the sky and shook Kendall's house, his doorbell rang several frantic times. Kendall yawned and rolled off his couch to answer the door. He was just dozing off, and he was a little apprehensive to see who was at his house so late at night. He quietly approached the door and peeked through the window to see his best friend doubled over, clutching the door frame with white knuckles. Without thinking twice, Kendall through open the door, and Carlos fell right into his arms, into his safe place.

"Kendall, I need you," Carlos whispered brokenly, and everything suddenly felt okay again, because he was with Kendall. It would be okay, because he had his Kendall again.

"Carlitos! Wh-what on earth are you-are you okay? What the hell is going on?" Kendall dragged Carlos' limp, drenched body inside, gasping when two dark, almost lifeless brown eyes peered up at him, blinking slowly. A small smile that didn't reach his usually beautiful chocolate brown eyes graced his pale lips. Kendall couldn't hold Carlos up any longer, and they both fell to the ground in a heap of limbs. Kendall ran a rough, calloused hand over Carlos' pale face and through his black, wet hair. Carlos leaned into Kendall's hand, craving his familiar touch.

"You're so cold Carlos. What happened? Are you sick?" Kendall asked in a shaky voice, sounding like a little boy again. Carlos began to cry, sucking in shallow breaths of oxygen.

"I c-can't breathe," Carlos sobbed, clutching weakly at Kendall's arms. Kendall held him tightly, knowing something was terribly wrong, but he didn't want to know what. His heart thumped heavily against his chest, fearing the worst.

"C-Carlos, what's going on? Why can't you get up? P-please, get up," Kendall pleaded, sobbing now. He buried his face in Carlos' hair, savoring his sweet yet minty scent, placing kisses on his forehead.

"I don't want to die," Carlos whispered, fat, crystalline tear drops running down his cheeks and soaking Kendall's chest.

"Hold on, I'm going to get you help, buddy. It's going to be alright. J-just think of good things, like the time your papa took us to the amusement park and we rode the ferris wheel all day," Kendall said, desperately trying to calm his friend down.

Carlos nodded, curling up against Kendall's chest and transporting his mind to that fun day so many years ago. He had almost forgotten that trip to the amusement park, and the happiness he felt while he was there, a time when his laughter was true and real. He wanted to be that happy again.

"D-don't leave me!" Carlos shrieked when he felt Kendall shift from his side, but those strong arms never moved from his waist.

"Don't worry, I'll never leave you, I'm here," Kendall promised. He was reaching into his pocket, fishing around for his cellphone. He quickly punched in the emergency numbers and explained to the operator he needed an ambulance, that his teenaged friend was having trouble breathing, his pulse was too fast, and he seemed to be having a reaction or bad side effect to something. After he was told an ambulance would be there shortly, Kendall threw the phone to the floor and scooped Carlos into his lap and stroked his hair gently.

"Carlitos what's going on? Please, tell me," Kendall said. Carlos looked up into his favorite pair of green eyes for the last time, letting the pretty color burn its memory into his mind. If there was one thing on this earth that he wanted to remember while in heaven, it was Kendall's soulful green eyes.

"I-I'm sorry," Carlos said between gasps for air. "I just… I can't anymore, Kendall. I can't."

"No, don't say that," Kendall whimpered with a sniffle. "You'll be okay. Don't be sorry, Carlos. You're perfect, you don't have to be sorry."

Carlos let out a cross between a chuckle and a sob, pressing a clammy hand to Kendall's cheek. He whispered that he loved Kendall in a voice that could hardly be heard. Then, he closed his eyes, waiting for it to end. He knew he was going to go soon, because he didn't feel so sick anymore. He just felt numb, ready to let go, now that he was in Kendall's arms. They both knew Carlos would die young, it wasn't a secret. But Kendall had always refused to believe it would happen, not now, not like this. It was too soon.

"No, n-no, Carlos stay awake buddy please," Kendall squeaked, shaking his best friend. "Don't leave me, Carlos. Stay a little while longer."

Carlos was unresponsive, tears shining on his cheeks and pale face angelic, frozen in time forever as a 15 year old boy who had so much to learn, so much to still live for yet didn't know it.

How many times have you heard me cry out

"God please take this"?

How many times have you given me strength to

Just keep breathing?

Oh, I need you

God, I need you now.

The ambulance arrived to a silent, dark house. A teenager cried quietly over another boy's body, tucked protectively in his arms. The paramedics had to pry the child away from the dead boy's body, and he fell into hysterics, clearly in shock as they took away his best friend who never even had a chance.