Zhang Yixing sent his keys across the room when his wrist flicked it hard, wrung to one side of them room; Yixing decided he would find it later. Unknown to him, there was an uninvited presence in the room, he just passed through her, shuddering when he slumped at the foot of the steps.

The girl gasped slightly as Yixing passed through her, she watched her broken lover hang his head, hands on his face, as if trying to suppress a terrible nightmare that he wants to wake up from. She moved towards him, feet dragging soundlessly across the floor, she passed a mirror, but it showed no reflection. Her clothes were caked with dried blood, literally from head to toe. Her fingers bony, face contorted in pain and pale. Her body was translucent-no, a see through. 

"Yixing. Look at me." She croaked but does not cry. 

Walking up to him and crouching in front of the boy who does not seem to notice her. He rocked back and forth as silent tears came falling out, onto the white carpet at his feet. The girl watched, hands flailing trying to grasp his face in her hands, trying to tell him to snap out of this insanity. 
Still, he does not listen, and soon, silent sobs turn into loud wails. He tried his best to keep himself in control, lips pursed, fist clenched. But his facade cracks- into too many irreversible pieces. 

Yixing wailed," She's gone. Gone, gone and gone. It's all my fault. Gone." The girl opposite him whispered," Yixing. No. It isn't your fault," Her volume started to rise, higher and higher, until she was screaming at him," Yixing, listen to me. It's not your fault. I'm sorry. We shouldn't have fought. Yixing please." The cries of pain and loss went unheard. Yixing refused to snap out of it. 

Yixing's lover died three weeks ago. He mourned for her and was still mourning; close to a month. All Yixing recalled was that they fought, and hoped it was about something important to have caused his lover's death. In anger, he ran across the road without looking out for the traffic, a car was heading his direction. Yixing could not react fast enough, but someone did. The girl pushed him out of the way and she herself died. She loved him, loved him enough to give herself up. To Yixing, reality could not be anymore cruel than it already is. It was more than a stinging pain in his chest, it was a a direct stab to his gut, dull and aching. Yixing was slapped awake, but was too late to realize the consequences of his actions.

Yixing lifted himself from the floor, his legs moving on their own accord. The brain says to stop, but his heart couldn't take it anymore. His hand rubbed the stubble that grew which he hadn't bother to shave ever since the funeral. Tears were still streaming, eyes bloodshot. He just couldn't stop crying. Dragging himself up to their once shared bedroom, he begins to search for something. Wrenching every drawer open, flipping over everything. The girl followed and tried once more, in attempt to grab his arm, but again, it just passes through. 

She watched him silently, no more cries of desperation. Just lingering eyes mixed with resignation and half hearted curiosity. Yixing finally stopped his crazed pace and pulls out something which glinted off the dull moonlight. A razor. 

"Yixing, no." She gasped, slightly breathless. 

A peaceful yet disturbing smile surfaced on Yixing's lips, fear bubbled up within the sole onlooker. "Yixing, don't." 

"I can't. I can't do it anymore. I'm going mad, crazy. I want out. I want to find her. I just can't do this anymore." Yixing mumbled to himself, which was an answer to his dead lover. 

"Why is she the one paying for my mistakes? I'm the one who did wrong. Why did you take her away?" He sat on the bed, lifting the razor, gazing at the moon which tried to hide behind the clouds. Yixing lets the sharp end of the razor slide across his right wrist. Pressing it in deeper, the pale skin breaks, the veins burst and crimson seeps from the opened gap. He doesn't stop at there, he continues slinking the razor, deeper and deeper. He doesn't stop until he knew that he would just bleed to death. 

He removes the razor, tossing it the other end of the room, laying down on the bed, Yixing grabbed one of her shirts that was strewn across the bed, inhaling the clean scent of her. He stretches his broken wrist, allowing all the blood to leak out of the crack. As if in bliss, he felt himself slipping away and the girl was still rooted there, unable to tear her eyes away from his angelic face. 
Maybe Yixing was just returning to where he belonged. To the heavens, as an angel. Or maybe he just wanted to find the one he lost. The girl wasn't sure. She frowned, and watched him. 

"It should have been me." Yixing whispered, and he was gone. 

~~~~~

A/n: okay. I'm sorry. Like I said, this isn't very good as I managed to write this out despite having a writer's block. I'm not trying to curse anyone or anything. It was just on a whim I wrote this. Well, it didn't come out really pretty. I'm just trying I comfort my readers. Since I've been on major hiatus. Yea. So here. My condition isn't really good. So this is all I can manage now. //sighs//