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Elder Connor McKinley sat on his rickety mission bed. His hands wouldn't stop shaking, he couldn't stop shaking. Connor's eyes welled with tears, his breath was uneven and heavy. Normally, Elder Thomas would be there to help him, comfort him, telling him that everything would be alright, all Connor would have to do was breath.
But Elder Thomas wasn't there. Not this time. Connor was all alone, trapped in his own personal circle of hell. The other Elders had all gone out, they were helping the villagers, making sure they were all okay. Connor wasn't okay. No one was there to help him when he needed it. So what was the point? What was the point in sticking around when no one cared? Why didn't Connor just end it all? Free himself from his troubles?
It would be so easy.
McKinley stood up, his legs shook and threatened to let him fall. Falling was the least of his problems though, he'd already fallen. Fallen for Kevin Price, the poster perfect Mormon child. The perfectly straight Mormon child. Kevin could never love Connor. The redhead knew that. That's why he was here, crying his eyes out in a dark, sweltering room. All the therapy and hard work turning it off, just to end up right where he started. If only his parents could see him now. They would be so disappointed, but hey, what was new?
Connor has been in this situation before, thinking about ending it all, ending his life, but then Kevin would flash his brilliant smile, showing his pearly white teeth and suddenly, everything was alright again. Kevin wasn't there though. He wasn't there to make things alright. So what was the point?
Staggering towards the mission hut's only bathroom, Connor grabbed the bottle of pills from the medicine cabinet. The orange bottle rattled around as McKinley walked back to his room. The room he shared. Oh, Connor could only imagine poor Elder Thomas's reaction when he walked in, finding his mission companion, and life-long best friend, dead. A part of Connor felt sorry just thinking about it, but that part was soon overtaken by a nagging voice saying it was all Thomas's fault anyway.
More tears spilled as Connor sat back down on his bed. He felt relieved and happy that things would finally be over, but he was wondering what would come next. If Connor did this, he was only damning himself to a worse hell, full of all his weaknesses and fears, with no one there to help. It's what he deserved though, Connor knew this as a fact.
Popping open the bottle, Connor felt his hands start to clam up, but that didn't stop him from tilting his head back and stuffing the pills down his throat. Connor swallowed dryly, wincing slightly as he pushed the pills down. They stung his throat and left a nasty taste behind as they started to decompose.
Connor glanced at the piece of paper neatly set on his bedside table. In shaky, but still neat and legible, writing were the words, 'I'm sorry'. That was all Connor could say. Though he did write Kevin a separate note and left it on top of the Disney film collection Kevin had stored in his room. The two had spent countless hours watching them after lights out, huddled up on the old, battered couch together.
Connor would have smiled at the memories if his chest didn't start to burn. Black spots dotted his vision and his limbs felt heavy and weak. So this was what dying feels like? McKinley thought. Not as bad as everyone puts it out to be, honestly. It wasn't so bad. Connor couldn't really feel anything now. His eyelids grew heavy, as did the rest of him, and suddenly...
The scene turned to black.
Kevin Price whipped the dripping sweat from his forehead. After a long day's work helping the villagers, all he wanted to do was sit down with his favourite Disney films and his favourite redhead. Kevin quickly changed his sweat drenched shirt, taking no notice of the note resting atop his film collection. Kevin strutted towards the district leader's room, softly knocking on the door.
"Connor? You busy?" he asked. There was no reply, so Kevin pushed open the rotting wooden door.
Kevin's eyes widened when he saw Connor's fragile form laying limply on the floor. "Connor!" The burnett rushed to McKinley's side, hands frantically trying to find a pulse, some form of life, some form that Connor McKinley wasn't dead.
"Connor c'mon!" Kevin shook and he shook, but the redhead remained unresponsive. Tears fell down Kevin's cheeks, some dripping down and landing on Connor's pale skin. Drop after drop, and Kevin knew they weren't going to stop anytime soon.
A pained scream ripped it's way out of Kevin's throat, his chest hurt and his heart ached. The other Elders, who hadn't been far behind Price, followed the screaming and sobbing, finding their beloved district leader limp in the arms of Kevin.
Elder Neeley was the first to react, rushing back out the door to get a doctor, but it was too late. Connor was going cold in Kevin's arms as the other Elders crowded around, some frozen with shock, others sobbing quietly.
Kevin's mind was racing a mile a minute, he couldn't distinguish between his thoughts, but most of them consisted of his longing and heartbreak, his love and sadness, his confusion and anger.
More and more tears escaped the Elders' eyes, everyone had lost something that had become a massive part of their lives. Elder Davis cried because he had lost one of the only people who could understand him, Connor had learnt sign language when he found out one of his Elders' had a speech disorder. None of the other's knew sign language apart from Elder Neeley, and the joy Davis felt when Connor signed asking him how he was feeling that day, was something indescribable.
Elder Michaels cried because Connor was the most supportive person he knew. Michaels was scared when he started his mission, he'd never flown before and an 18 hour flight from Salt Lake City wasn’t something he was happy with, but Connor was there to hold his hand and tell him everything would be alright. When Michaels was horrified to talk to his parents after the whole ‘Book of Arnold’ thing, McKinley had sat by his side as he called them, rubbing soothing circles on his back when tears welled in his eyes.
Elder Cunningham cried because Kevin cried. Not only that, but the loss of someone who would sit there and divulge Arnold, someone who would let him sit and ramble on about spaceships and how he thought Star Wars was better than Star Trek, but he liked it anyway. Connor always listened. Connor would listen and ask questions and help him with The Book of Arnold.
And Kevin cried because he'd lost the love of his life.
Kevin cried and cried and cried. Never again would he get the gaze into Connor's sparkling, blue eyes, eyes he loved very much. Never again would Kevin ruffle the mop of copper hair Connor always tried to style, but to no
avail as it would always return to its original messiness. Kevin wouldn't be able to sit there and count all the freckles that dotted Connor's skin, he wouldn't get to draw constellations in his mind. Never again could Kevin do the things that filled him with so much peace and joy.
Elders Thomas and Church walked into the mission hut. They had walked slower than the others, wanting to savour the warm Uganda sun. When they returned, they expected to find everyone else all full of smiles and exhaustion from a day's work. What they actually walked into was an eerily quiet hut, the only sounds were muffled cries and sobs, not a person in sight. "Hello?" Church called.
Elder Cunningham emerged from the hall, cheeks wet with salty tears. Arnold ran to the two confused missionaries and engulfed them both in a bone-crushing hug, “Elder Cunningham! What on Earth is the matter?” Exclaimed Thomas. Arnold started mumbling inaudible sentences.
“Arnold! Calm down! What’s wrong?”
"I-it's… I-It's Elder McKin-ley. He- he…" Arnold started crying harder. Thomas rubbed circles along Cunningham's back.
Michaels and Davis emerged from the hall, heads down and eyes puffy tears still staining their cheeks. “We’re so sorry, Chris…” Michaels said, Davis just nodded.
“What on earth is going on?!” Thomas was beginning to get angry, everyone seemed to be jumping around something, something important.
“I think it’s best you just come with us.” Michaels said.
The hall was dark and cold, it seemed the always warm Ugandan weather had changed to match the horrific advent. A short walk seemed to last an eternity. Connor’s room was at the end of the hall and to the left, furthest way but closest to the shared bathroom. The whole hut was in a dampening silence, even the heavy sobs from Kevin had quietened down, it was suffocating, trapping, it felt like the walls were closing in and water was flooding everywhere. The silence couldn’t compare to any hell dream the Elders had ever had.
When the group reached the end of the hall, Thomas’s eyes widened and he felt his stomach churn, on the floor lay a pale figure, limp and still. “Connor!” he exclaimed.
This seemed to set everyone off again, tears flowing freely, breaths quickening. Everything seemed like a blur, a dream- no, like a nightmare. Neeley soon returned, the village doctor in tow. There was nothing to help, nothing to be done. Elder McKinley was gone and there was no getting him back.