I'm dead, so what does it matter? I'm a meaningless, trapped soul in search of something that can quite possibly never be found. Am I like this because of Her? It shouldn't be like this; I was supposed to live out my life, saving others, curing cancer, win the Nobel Prize. Instead, I survived all the way to a stunning seventeen, unable to ever live up to my potential, and died a frustrated, teenage virgin. Even back when I was alive, I knew it wasn't going to end well. I fought it tooth and nail, dreaming that it would end differently. My mistake wasn't getting to know Her; it was not realizing when it had gone too far.
It's weird being dead: I feel numb inside; I experience emotions, but I can't process or act on them. In a way, I’m safe; protected from acting irrationally. Where is she? I thought she’d be here… Where is here? Hell? Purgatory? Is this the end? No… there must be more. I bet she’ll visit, or come back for me, however it works. As I lose touch with the physical world, the memories of Her grow stronger; and my emotions – although numbed – become unbearable. There is so much I would change, if only I could; oh, so much! I would phrase my words carefully, I’d alter my reactions; perhaps the outcome would’ve improved. Why didn’t I see that I was doing it all wrong?
I think my name was Jake, but then again it could have been Josh. I don't know if I had any siblings, and I think I was adopted, but I can't be too sure. Either way, it doesn't really matter now. All that matters is Her and what will become of us… if there even is an us now…
“I can’t do this anymore!” Without even looking, I knew she was crying. I’d heard that tone more times than I’d admit. My bedroom door hurled open, the doorknob bashing against the wall. I took in a deep breath and looked up at her from my anatomy textbook.
“Can’t do what?”
“You know what! I can’t live here anymore!” She threw herself against my bed, flopping facedown. Her inky black hair was a knotty mess, matted from sweat, her emo bangs concealed in tears. She gripped the sheets with her fists, screaming into the pillow. I watched my hand gently stroke her long hair, my painted black fingernails blending in.
“It’s okay,” I promised, even though it wasn’t. I was getting scared – we’d been through this so many times… how many more were to come? Of all the years I’d watched her, protected her, wanted to be with her, I never knew it would be this dangerous. There was no way for me to know – all I knew was I wanted to help… to be the white knight.
“No, it’s not!” she screeched, flailing her arms. “You’ve stopped me too many times!” Her sleeve shot up, seemingly by magic, revealing her bare arm – scarred with long red slashes. I was happy there was no blood this time… nothing to stich up. Being an MD at 17 was a feat… if only I could’ve prevented the scarring; cream only helped so much.
“Are you looking? Do you see this? You’re not going to stop me this time. I can’t take it here, I shouldn’t be here – you know that!”
“But, I love you,” I whispered, my hand reaching out to pull her sleeve back down. She snatched her arm away.
“Don’t touch me!”
I nodded and slowly reeled my arm back in.
“I know you love me,” she answered after a deep breath, “you know I love you. I need you.”
“Then don’t do it.”
“You’re asking too much,” she breathed out, interweaving her fingers in her hair as she slumped down in my desk chair. “You know what I am! I think I finally figured out a way for it to work this time! Come with me?” she asked, eyeing at me as if I was the first light she’d seen in days.
“I have a life-”
“That’s the problem!” she snapped. Her eyes turned Evil, casting the glare I dreaded. I wanted to give her the world! Couldn’t she see I was trying to help?
“I’m not like you! I’m not like them,” she pleaded, gesturing out the window, implying the world.
“But, Angela-”
“No,” she shook her head, “I’m not. Supposed. To be here,” she said very slowly, articulating carefully as if I was new to English. I felt my lungs fill with air and my head fill with “what ifs.”
“Please! I need you. Be with me. I trusted you; told you my secret – now help me,” she whispered in my ear. I placed my forefinger and thumb on opposite sides of my upper-nose and gently squeezed, shutting my eyes to the darkness.
“You love me. You have to love me for me, not who you want me to be, or who you want to help.”
I nodded.
“It will be painless – look.” I felt the plastic bottle rest in my palm.
“Where did you get these?” I yelled, standing so abruptly my vision blacked out for a second.
“It doesn’t matter; you can’t stop me this time. I already took my half. You choose.” She slowly backed away against the wall, her slender fingers spread against it.
“No! Tell me you didn’t!”
Her inordinately green eyes peered back at me, empty as if all was lost. I placed my palms against my face and smacked my forehead. Wake up! I told myself. Wake up! Wake up! Wake up! I sat on the cold ground, pulling my knees to my chest and rocked back and forth.
“We could pump your stomach!” I exclaimed, sitting straight up. I saw her on the bed; it was too late. She was already unconscious and a baby-puke white liquid dribbled from her lips.
“No, no, no, come on! Wake up!” I screamed, running over to her, shaking her limp body, to no avail.
Outside the window there was nothing but darkness, the stars no longer shown for me, and the moon slipped from its crescent to a nothing in the cosmic sky. My hands eventually stopped shaking… I slowly unscrewed the cap and dropped the pills into my mouth. I took her in my arms, and silently sobbed myself to sleep… a sleep I would never wake up from.
What would my family think? How would they mourn? It didn’t matter – I was here for Her. It’s over – there’s nothing that can be done. What was I thinking? Where is she? I trusted her – am I crazy? No, maybe she is the crazy one. But it seems so real, the way she talks about her life before Earth… she’s an angel that fell. She made a mistake and it trapped her.
“Where are you?” I whisper, not knowing why I’m whispering. A tiny light appears in the distance and I hear the most beautiful music. It calls to me… it’s warm and perfect. It’s the song we all try to make on Earth, it’s the music we strive for; it’s why we have music.
“Don’t,” she says. My breath snaps in and I look around, but I can’t see her.
“I’m here. Don’t leave me now.”
Suddenly, everything makes sense – It’s a choice. She fell and can’t get back – she’s trapped either here or on Earth. I must choose between the two – it’s my fate and I must pick it – I can either be with her, or be in Heaven. This is the foggy middle. The music slowly fades as I search for her; I want to see her. I want to feel her – can I touch in this realm?
It’s back – the music, the feeling, the happiness… it’s everything I’ve ever searched for; then again, so is she. Is that because she’s an angel? There are other angels in Heaven… would I find another?
“Hurry or you’ll be trapped,” her voice is a heavy whisper, as if she’s trying to yell but can’t get through.
It hits me again that I’m dead – I can hardly believe it. What will happen to my life? What will happen to all the great things I wanted to do? I’m dead, so what does it matter? I’m a meaningless, trapped soul –
“Please! You’re going in circles, move on,” she urges. I can tell she’s been here before; can she hear my thoughts? I remember how she knew things about me, like what I was feeling, she knew how to help when no one else could. I can’t imagine life without her – but this is death. I’m here though, so what’s the difference? I still need her.
“Where are you? I need you!” I say. Nothing happens. “I love you!” I desperately scream. The music stops. I feel her take my hand. Love isn’t a word I know; it’s a word I feel.
