Final Call for Mercy

64

My hand pushes the door to the room open and warm light casts over my body as I step inside. The sun gives the whole room a golden touch, almost making it glow. I sigh, mesmerized by the simple view.

A smile blossoms to my face when two arms wrap around my waist from behind and two soft lips peck my shoulder. "Hey, baby," those lips murmur into my skin.

I lean back into him, inhaling his scent so I never forget it. It's possibly the corniest shit to say, but he smells like...summer. Like fresh leaves, ocean water and warm breeze. "I missed you," I whisper.

His hold becomes tighter around me. "I know."

The world is a little too still, everything a little too silent and blurry around the edges. "This isn't real," I say.

"No, it isn't."

"It's a dream?"

"I'm not sure."

I twist around and wrap my own arms around him, burrowing my face in his chest. "Don't ever let me go, please."

"I don't want to..."

"But you have to," I finish for him.

"No," he whispers into my hair. His hand glides up my back to hold my head tight to his body. "You do."

I shake my head and tighten my arms around him. "I don't want to."

But I can already feel him disappearing and a desperate ache chokes me. I tighten and tighten my arms as much as I can. At the same time, his phantom touch tries to hold onto me as he turns to light and dust. 

"Please don't leave me," I beg, grasping at nothingness. "I don't want you to go. Please. Stay."

And just before he goes, a hand cups my cheek. I watch his flickering face smile before I'm staring at the empty bed in front of me.

The ache in my heart jolts me awake. I clutch at the hardwood beneath me, gasping for air that doesn't want to enter my lungs. The cold, night wind pushes through my window, my curtains flap with it, letting only a sliver of moonlight enter the room. It does nothing for the darkness, barely illuminating the edge of desk it lands on. I stare at the weak, white glow and break down.

I don't try to hold in my sobs or the hiccups. All I can see is his face as he smiles and disappears. My arms go ice cold with the memory of his wrapped around me. It's all I need, to have them around me again. To see his face and hear his voice. I won't ever have that. Ever. My body reacts to that thought with more sobs. I clutch my chest, curling into a ball on my floor and begging the world to give me my life back.

For a moment I startle as I hear a thump next to me and then an arm is wrapping around me, pulling me in. I look up to see my mother. Her hair is messy and her eyes are tired. That arm rubs its way up my arm until her hand is cupping my cheek. The touch is so soft and warm and familiar that it tears me in two. I grip her hand and wail, wishing for someone I'll never get back and wailing because of that too.

Because I hate this outcome. I hate it with everything left of me. And it's too late to back out of it now, because I'll never get back what I lost. 

Mom doesn't say a word. She only holds me to her and listens to me cry. She doesn't shush or hum or lull. She only stays there, offering me her presence and her warmth, and it does something to warmth the cold in me, but not to ease the pain.

"I promised myself I'd take him away and leave all this behind if he survived." My voice is so broken, even to my ears. Defeated and begging for scraps. 

Her arm around me holds me tighter. Another sob racks out of me as she ponders her answer. I can't see her face in the dark, not fully. Just a silhouette of the pain etched in it.