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  • Officially Dylan

The day you died

Updated: Nov 1

I suppose I should tell you about that day..


Saying it hit me like a tonne of bricks was an overstatement, it didn't hit me at all.

It wasn't expected and it wasn't welcome but it didn't hit me.

I had just text you..

I was receiving messages from friends asking if I was ok but I thought nothing of it. People ask that all the time right?

Skalett was banging off my [face book] line but you know me.. there was no way in hell that I was going to pick that up. I explained to her that I have a phone phobia but she was being pretty frantic with her contact,


And then there is was, a voice note saying "Dylan's dead"


"Ana pleaseee, I need to talk to you"

Was the next thing she said.


"thanks for letting me know xx"

Was my reply


My first thought was.. F**K what do I do with My cats! You were looking after them for me because some psychopath in the area was mutilating cats. People were finding cats tails, limbs and dead animals all over the place. I had just shipped lulu off to my sisters (Ls) in London and you had my other two.. Popcorn (my love) and kitty.


What was I going to do with my cats!? I thought I was pretty much set to go. I had just spent weeks getting rid of all of my possessions. I was packing up my life in to three suitcases to move in to a refuge 350 miles away, and I was leaving in less than 24 hours.

I dressed myself instantly and decided I was going to go to yours.


I didn't have your house mates number so I had no other choice.


I'd like to say that I got out of the house quickly but you know me, I'm a whole pile of neurosis.. so I started to do my 'I'm just frantically searching around for everything I may need on a long haul'

.. you know.. the usual..


Phone, keys, money, bank card, passport..

A specific hoodie I haven't seen in three months

...needle and thread...

...Sos survival guide...


cause my brain really likes to over exaggerate that 45 minute walk.


But while I was searching for these things I found myself wandering off, searching for other things, something that belonged to you.. anything.. and I found nothing.. not even a hair bobble.. that's all I wanted.. a hair bobble.. but nothing. I snapped myself out of it and before I knew it I was 10 mins from my house.


Then reality kicked in that I was out of my house.. on my own. It had been a long time since I had left my house on my own, so long I couldn't remember the last time.. you had been there for a while.. to get me out because things had been hard recently.

I didn't freak out but I messaged Seemore and asked him If I could come over.


I bought a packet of straights. I hadn't smoked in over a year. fuckit.


I bought a bottle of vodka.. didn't need one.. just felt like it.


Thought they would help.. they didn't.. didn't need them.


Seemore obviously grabbed me in for a hug. It didn't help.. but why would it. I wasn't feeling anything.


I asked him to take me to yours. He asked me if I was thinking straight.

'Yeah.. course.. just need to sort out my cats man'

He stared at me for a while.. with a look of - tha fuck? then agreed.

He did continue to ask me if I was ok, if I was thinking straight, am I sure? - for the whole journey.

There was a long silence in the car before he had to say something about it though. He asked me if I was ok to talk about it.. but I was fine.. he didn't know how I was keeping it together. Neither did I but we just assumed it hadn't hit me yet. He shared his experiences of death and I spoke about how I wasn't feeling anything specific right now..


The buzzers weren't working at your tower so we just waited around for a bit.. thinking about how we could get in.. I did start feeling a bit uncomfortable.. I did think.. what am I doing here?

After a lot of anxious deliberation I decided to knock on a balcony door of a downstairs flat.. The one to the right.. no one answered tho... It was getting late.. I feel Seemore was feeling a bit uncomfortable by this point.. he had run out of suggestions and was urging me to go.. I almost did but I got a bout of courage and knocked on the balcony door on the left.. HUZZAH! Someone was in and with no questions asked he let me up.


I was banging on your door.

Funnily enough.. no one was there haha.

I could see my cats through the letterbox. I was hoping that your house mate would have been in but as he wasn't a legitimate house mate there was a high chance he would have left. I paced up and down the hallway and stared out the window for a while trying to think how I was going to get in.. I unscrewed the spy hole and pushed it through.. we laughed while I panicked because I got my finger stuck in the hole!


I called the council and they agreed to get hold of the housing officer to let me in but just as we left to go and wait outside for them Carl came out of the lift. He walked straight past me with this really tall husky guy I had never met before - Alex?


I stared at him for a little bit till he recognised who I was.

"ahhh MATE!" he said, "I've been trying to get hold of you! I found you on facebook but I didn't think it was ok for you to find out that way" [Too late LOL]


We went in.

It felt strange and uncomfortable in your place.. but it always did.. you know I didn't like it there. It always felt unwelcoming and slightly creepy, maybe it was because the last tenant hung himself on his weight bench.. or maybe it was your colour scheme haha who knows.


The first thing I noticed was that your weapons were missing from your wall. I very bluntly demanded to know where they were. They said that the police were sniffing around and so they took them to Alex's place. This was acceptable. I told them to keep them safe as they have a high sentimental value to me and they made me feel comforted that they will be kept until I return for them.


Secondly a few basic watches that I had given you were bagged up in an envelope. Carl told me that they were getting your stuff together for your parents which I thought was very sweet.


But, the thing that really got my goat.. I looked at Carl's wrist.. He was wearing your hair bobble.. the red one.. the one you wore as a bracelet for our entire relationship..


I didn't really know what to say..


"Is that Dylan's?"

"Yea, I took it off his wrist before they took his body, so I could be reminded of him"


….


…….


"errr…" - He handed it to me.. [too fucking right he handed it to me, if I had raised my eyebrows at him any higher or for any longer they would have fallen off my forehead]

He started talking about the situation.


I know it sounds harsh but I didn't go to talk about you, I kinda didn't want to know. I went to get my cats. I gave Sully a call and he agreed to take them for the for seeable future. He asked if you were alright. I just told him you were having a bad one. [Yeah, real bad.. the dead kinda bad]


Any way, It kinda blurted out of me, "Was it drugs?"

"No No No" They said.

"He hadn't even drunk anything" one said.

"well he had one beer" said the other. [If I could have raised one eyebrow [something I seem to struggle with] it would have got stuck in my forehead creases (one beer, Mr recovering alcoholic had a singular beer what a laughable notion]. Any way (again), the lads insisted on telling me the whole story. You guys were having a great night, pissing around. Playing video games, eating munch and playing pranks on each other.

In the morning they went to the shop, but before they had left, they noticed that you had fallen asleep while sitting on the floor and you were snoring really loud! So they put you in recovery position?


When they came back you were dead.


The paramedics worked on you for 45 mins.


Carl and Alex told me that you had killed yourself.


You had taken some antipsychotic medication out of Alex's bag and backed a whole strip.

And there we have it.. cool story bro?


Well, it doesn't end there!


Hearing that you had topped yourself put me in to a state of...Shock? like it didn't make sense? you were with people, having silly times. But, you did have a dissociative personality disorder? So my conclusion was that you had switched all of a sudden (which had never happened before) and done something silly without realising..??


The rest of it is pretty blurry.. But I’ll do my best to remember it in sequence.


I boxed up my babies. Grabbed the box of rocks [a precious stone collection you had been collecting as a child] that you wanted to give Boo. Picked up any artwork that I had drawn for you.. and then, was thinking about leaving.


Carl handed me an envelope. It really worried it was some sort of suicide note. It wasn't. It was a pair of gold earrings you had bought me for my birthday, you hadn't managed to give them to me yet.


He then told me that your parents didn't care about any of your things and that they weren't willing to come and collect them. He said the council was going to come and throw everything away.


More shock.. just what I needed.

I looked around.. at all of your things.. No! that was not acceptable. I tried to take sentimental things.


I took all of your artwork off the walls (the ones for the graphic novel we were going to write together). Carl said he was going to take your guitar? So I took that (I left the one I gave you, like my issue is where was I going to put anything, I was moving. If not I would have taken everything). Carl was asking where your motorbike was and I said I knew and would let your parents know but I took Your motorbike helmet. I took your trackies that you got in prison - Carl helped me find them, a few t shirts, The front wheel of your bike (because it was mine), your snood (it smelt disgusting but I needed it), anything I could find that Boo had drawn for you... as you can imagine, by this point, I felt like I was looting your place. 


I was walking around your house in a daze as the reality of the situation was washing over me.

 

The last thing I picked up was Boo’s blanket. She’d been asking about it for ages..

“ERRRR, you probably don’t want that” carl cringed, as I pinned it under my chin to fold it.

“Dylan was wrapped in that when he died.. Aaand the paramedics used it to cover his body”.


“Oh Lord..Drop it!” my mind said, but my hands didn’t let go.

I just carried on folding it, saying “that’s ok I can wash it”.


I tucked it in my bag and walked out of the room in a hurry as I was trying to process what I was going to say to Boo about the blanket. I couldn’t give it back to her??


This was all a bit much for my tiny brain.


Despite my attempt to get away Carl followed me into your bedroom.

 

He asked me if he could have your ps4.. the question was even more shocking than the reality.. "err.. its not mine?" he went away but soon came back and asked me again.

He was blithering on but I couldn't hear a word he was saying, my head felt like it was under water. I just wanted him to go away. I told him I didn't care about any electrical things, this stuff isn't mine!... He eventually left me alone.


I stood over your bed staring at your spot, your empty spot that you wrote your name over (and obviously my name over my side).


I grabbed your pillow and pulled it in for a hug burying my face in it.

.. and I stood there...

For what felt like forever..


I stood there looming over our memories.

Looming over your bed, like a creepy stalker watching you while you slept.

Waiting for you to wake up.


But you weren't there..

..and you weren't waking up.


I didn't cry, I still wasn’t feeling much but a single tear did roll down my cheek.

I mopped it up with the corner of the pillow before slipping the case off and folding it neatly.


I walked back into the other room and gathered all of the items ready to leave. I looked up at the undressed wall where your collection once was. “Take me to yours, I want his knuckle dusters” I asked, politely.


They started laughing and joking about how out of all “his” weapons, the one I wanted was his knuckle dusters. Saying how they wouldn’t wanna fuck with me. I wasn’t laughing. They were the smallest item on that wall and I needed the memories.


Once I got them I left. Took that one last mandatory look back at your hallway before closing that door forever.


I went home, got into bed and went to sleep.

It did hit me BTW. It hit me the next day. I managed to make it from my bed to the entrance of Boo’s bedroom door before I broke down into a wailing, dribbling mess of pain and despair. You know when it hits you.. Takes you to the floor. My back slid down the wall as I tried to catch my breath through the sobs. You know I am great at sucking down my emotions but this time I couldn't (and I tried so hard) even if I wasn't thinking about you, it, the situation, anything, tears were still streaming down my swollen cheeks. I frustratingly continued in that state until I went to bed.

The next day was more controllable. Boo was back from my mum's, happy as pie. I didn't want her to know.. I gave her that box of rocks and she was ecstatic (weird kid) she's been obsessed with rocks since she was tiny. (We used to help her smash them open when she was 3 because she loved to see the colours on the inside. I had to start doing that because I used to catch her outside with a hammer trying to do it herself, haha. At that point, if you asked her what she wanted to be she'd say 'a crazy cat lady' she wanted to open a cat sanctuary (adorable little ragamuffin). She still does but her main career goal is archeology and geology.. Just the same as me when I was her age. Hopefully we can sort her adhd out before she finished school so she doesn't make the stupid mistakes I did, but knowing is a big advantage.. I'll try and keep her on track!)

She was so excited about the rocks she sent you a voice message thanking you.

It hit my mum hard.

Every time I looked at her she was crying. I had to tell her a few times to go and sort herself out in the bathroom. I really wanted to hug her but I didn't want to let on and I didn't want to start crying myself. I just cried in secret for a long time.. Still do.. Unfortunately for me crying is weakness.


I think the thing that got me most was the suicide. Thinking.. You must have been in such a horrible depressive state. I know I could have helped you. I could have made it better. I was beating myself up for all the things I could have done but it tore my insides apart the most, knowing that you were so unhappy when you passed. My poor baby. I SO desperately wanted you to be happy and I know your mental heath didn't allow that a lot of the time.

And so, here we are.. May 24th pm..

I have just spoken to H and W. A conversation that was very welcome and very helpful towards my situation.


But, something else was said.

W spoke of how he was sorting your things out for your mama and paps because they were distraught and couldn't bring themselves to do it..


I mentioned that the lads said they were doing that.. And W went off on one!

First he asked me If I had taken anything. I explain the situation about the lads, saying that your parents didn't care so I took the sentimental things which were all safe. (I let him know where your motorbike was).

He then asked where the ps4 was..

..

..

And it all hit me. I FELT GUILT. That was my fault! I could have stopped that from happening. W said that it wasn't. They took advantage of someone that was In Shock.. But I still feel so shitty about it. You trusted these guys.. I TRUSTED them.. They made me feel very comforted about the whole situation.. It's easy to gain my trust though.. As I have full trust in anyone until it's broken. I feel like a fucking moron.


No one can get a hold of them they won't answer my calls. They said they would keep your things safe..


There were things missing off your body.. Your watch.. Your fit bit.. The ring your sister gave you..


They said the police took your phone but this wasn't the case apparently..

Things have gone missing all over the place..

Imagine the bad karma (not that I believe in karma, it's never helped me out with wrongs in the past)


But the karma of robbing a dead man's body..

While he's still warm..

A dead man's body who didn't kill himself.


That right.. You would know wouldn't you.. I wish you could have told me..

They lied. You Died of a heart attack in your sleep from taking too much cocaine! You little shit.


And although the lie was horrible.. I can't put into words the relief I got from knowing you were happy when you passed away.


*sigh*


I've talked your ear off way too much..

But I love you so deeply.

Dream sweet my cocaine baby.



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