forum High School Rp (Closed. Stalkers welcome)

Started August 14, 2018 by @EmptyNebula group

tune

(okie)

Alistair had just stopped by his locker when he heard two familiar voices. Chase and… Kemp. Immediately worried and angry, he walked around the corner and saw them. "Hey, babe, is everything okay?" he asked, eyes flicking between Chase and Kemp.
What's going on here?

“You can quit the act, Alistair,” Kemp said with a smirk.
Just like that, the world shattered around Chase. Tears started falling in cascades out of his eyes, and he whirled, only to be faced by Alistair. Chase looked hopelessly at him and asked desperately, “How could you?” Chase whirled around again, sprinting for the school exit. He wouldn’t go to his class, or any other class after that. Tears poured out of his eyes like a waterfall, and he didn’t even bother wiping them away. The pain would end soon anyways. And Chase didn’t stop running, despite his small size, he was agile and fast enough to out run anyone behind him, block after block in the neighborhood. He didn’t even feel exhaustion, it was just going through the motions until he saw his ratty old house. He sprinted to the door, opening and closing it rather loudly, enough to get his father’s head to turn, and sprinted up the stairs and locked himself in his room.

Mr. Goeman had never connected with his son, but when he had seen Chase run in midday with tears pouring down his face, he knew something was wrong. And Mr. Goeman had always had some love for his only son, though they had never had a good relationship, he still loved him. So he walked up the stairs to Chase’s room and rapped on the door, “Son? Aren’t you supposed to be in school? Are you alright?” Sobs, dulled by the door, came from the room, and Mr. Goeman knocked again, “Chase?”

(Trigger warning coming up)
.
.
.
.
.
Chase had pulled out the Swiss Army knife he’d gotten for a long ago birthday, and held it of the skin on the inside of his elbow. Two quick motions and his arms were covered in blood. Chase leaned against the wall, letting his tears pour down his face. It would end. The world could no longer call him a freak if he was dead. So he just stood there, watching the door and not answering to his father.

(are you trying to demolish my heart?!?!)

Alistair's eyes widen when Chase runs away. "Chase?! What- where are you going?!" he cried.
Turning to Kemp with a murderous glare, he growled, "That's it, I've had enough with you." Darting forward, he swung his fist, connecting it with Kemp's jaw, causing Kemp to fall to the floor. "I'll deal with you later," he growled vehemently. "But right now I'm going to find my boyfriend."

Running out the doors after Chase, Alistair looked around. Where did he go? Where did he go?
Darting over to the bike rack, he grabbed a bike that someone had unwisely to chained. Hopping on the bike, he began to pedal as fast as he could, hoping to find Chase.
…
After searching for a while, to no avail, he pulled out his phone and looked at Chase's contact for his address. Once pulling it up, he pedaled as fast as he could to his house.
Upon arriving, he pounded on the door. "Mr. Goeman? Mr. Goeman, is Chase here? Please, let me in!"

Mr. Goeman furrowed his brow at the pounding of the door. “Chase?” He asked one last time. When no answer came he went to the door and opened it to find his son’s friend, “Why are you here too? Don’t you have school?”

Ignoring Mr. Goeman's question, Alistair looked over his shoulder wildly. "Chase is here? Where is he? Please, please tell me," he begged, tears starting to form in his eyes. If something awful had happened… No, he couldn't think like that.

“Yes, but what on earth is going on? He had just ran in the house and locked himself in his room. What happened?” Mr. Goeman demanded, slightly annoyed yet still concerned for his son. Something was definitely off, “You two are supposed to be in school.” He tapped his foot lightly on the floor, oblivious to Alistair’s tears that were forming.

"Look, sir, I don't have time to explain, just tell me where Chase's room is!" Alistair cried. "I'm worried he's hurt."

(i gtg. see ya tomorrow!)

(See you tomorrow :)
Mr. Goeman finally just settled, going back up to Chase’s room and knocking on the door again, “Cha-“ A loud thud came from inside the room and Mr. Goeman knocked on the door again, harder this time, “Chase, I’m coming in, okay?” No response, again. So Mr. Goeman shoved his shoulder into the door, almost knocking it from its frame. He repeated the motion and the door busted open, the lock broken. It had been cheap anyways.
But as Mr. Goeman slid the door out of the way, it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. Nothing but his son, the last piece of Mr. Goeman’s late wife and family, lying on the floor unconscious. He scrambled down next to Chase, “CALL 911!” Mr. Goeman shouted at Chase’s friend. There was so much blood. Too much. Chase’s breathing was too shallow. Mr. Goeman had his shirt off already, wrapping his son’s arms in it for an attempt to stop the bleeding. Too much blood, too much of his son’s blood.

I'm just reading this like that one spectator and my heart is breaking off little by little.//

(Aww thanks!)

Running into Chase's room after Mr. Goeman, Alistair's eyes widen when he sees his boyfriend bleeding out on the floor. Whipping out his phone before Mr. Goeman even said anything, he had whipped his phone out and was dialing 911.
"Hello? Yes, I'm at address, there's a boy here and he's bleeding heavily. From his inner elbow. There's a Swiss Army knife, yes, I think he did it. Ok. Please hurry," Alistair hung up and dropped to his knees next to Chase.

"They're on their way," he said without even looking at Mr. Goeman, taking off his own shirt to help staunch the blood flow.
"Come on, love, just hold on a bit longer. You are going to live."

Mr. Goeman didn’t know what to do. There wasn’t anything he could do. His son… Gosh, his son was trying to commit suicide. Tears started rolling from Mr. Goeman’s eyes before he could stop them, “Chase, Chase, come on. I’m sorry, just please please please hold on.” It felt like an eternity but the ambulance sirens were heard off in the distance soon enough. Mr. Goeman picked up his limp son and got him to outside as the ambulance pulled up. People rushed out, helping set Chase down on the stretcher and was starting to be loaded into the ambulance. One lady came up to him, “Sir, what’s his blood type? Do you know?”
Though Mr. Goeman was shaken, gosh he was covered in blood, he still answered, “Type O, my son is type o.”
A solemn, apologetic look appeared on the lady’s face, “The hospital is short on type o, we might not have enough to-“
“What do you mean you don’t have enough?” Mr. Goeman demanded as he got into the ambulance, a furious glint in his eye. They were just about to take off, still strapping Chase in so he wouldn’t fall during the ride, “Isn’t there anyone who can donate?”

Alistair, who had been following after them silently, tears falling down his cheeks, finally spoke up.
"I'm type O," he said, not looking up from Chase's unconscious form. "Take my blood if it will save him."
You're going to live, Chase. I'll make sure of it.

Mr. Goeman looked at Chase’s friend in shock, then grabbed his arm and heaved him up in the ambulance as the doors closed. The sirens started and they could feel it as the ambulance started speeding down the road. A man started cleaning down Alistair’s arm while a lady gave his a form to sign. People were already setting up for the blood transfusion, and Mr. Goeman could only watch as his son lay unconscious, his chest barely moving. He forced himself to look at Chase’s friend, “Thank you.”

Alistair nodded, also looking at Chase. As they inserted the IV needle into his arm to begin the transfusion, a couple of EMTs watching their vitals, Alistair looked up at Mr. Goeman. "You know why he did this, right?"

Mr. Goeman focused his attention on Chase’s friend, rather than his dying son. What was this kid’s name again…? Mr. Goeman folded his arms, “He had told me some boys were teasing him for his synesthesia. I hadn’t realized it had gotten so bad.” He hoped that was the reason. Because the alternative was too much too bear, if it was his fault. Gosh, he screwed up so bad as a father.

Alistair shook his head, resisting the urge to glare daggers at Mr. Goeman. "That was only part of it," he said. "There are two boys at school, Kemp and Jacob, who made fun of his synesthesia, yes, but also his sexuality. They weren't the only ones who contributed to that part." He looked back at Chase. "Kemp said something before he ran out of school, that must have been the breaking point."

(XD Tell ur friends I said hi)
Mr. Goeman looked at his son, going red in the face. He had caused this, and if his son died- Mr. Goeman, an executive business owner, started biting his lip and wiping away more tears. He should’ve been more involved, he should’ve done something about those boys, he shouldn’t had said those things to his son. A lady interrupted his thoughts when she adresses his son’s friend, “You might feel light headed and dizzy after a while. We will be taking a lot of blood. He lost a lot,” The lady looked at Mr. Goeman, “Do you know when he- when he started bleeding?”
“A while ago,” Mr. Goeman answered dejectedly. If he had done something more…

(She just shook her head at me with disappointment XD)

"He ran out of school about an hour ago," Alistair told the EMT. "It probably took twenty minutes for him to run home. I got to his house about twenty minutes ago, and we tried to stop the bleeding. He probably bled freely for about fifteen to twenty minutes." He clenched his fist. "I should have stopped him. If I had focused more on my concern for him and less on my anger with Kemp, maybe I could have stopped this."

“He still might make it,” The lady went back to working, but her reassurances didn’t make Mr. Goeman feel any better. Why couldn’t she have just said, ‘he’ll be okay’? Mr. Goeman rubbed his face then looked at Chase’s friend, “If wasn’t your fault, kid. I should’ve been better. I should’ve forced my way into his room earlier.” Mr. Goeman felt it as the ambulance stopped, and a man came next to them, looking at Chase’s friend, “We’re going to load you on a stretcher too so you can keep giving him blood.” The doors popped open and a second stretcher waited just outside, another team ready to run them into the hospital.

Alistair nodded at the EMT and allowed himself to be put on the stretcher and pulled alongside Chase into the hospital. Right before they got into the ER, the effects of the bloodloss kicked in, and he fell unconscious, watching Chase until his eyes closed completely.
Come on, love, you're going to make it…

Mr. Goeman jogged after the EMTs, only to be sent through the office. They said he needed to pick up paperwork anyways, and you can only imagine how Chase’s father felt about doing paperwork while his son was dying. At least he get to be in the same room as them when things settled down. Mr. Goeman sat on a chair near his son, just watching him and neglecting his paperwork. The doctors had stitched up Chase and got Mr. Goeman a new shirt. They had said he’d make it, that they were incredibly lucky. Gosh the fact was so relieving, that his son would live. He had so many things he wanted to say to him. The blood transfusion finished, and they said he still needed to produce some of his own blood and Chase wouldn’t wake very quickly. It still worried him.