Past The Veil

My Wally

Spilt River High School, 1984

It's been a year since our golden boy took his last steps on that field. That god awful field. Saying it's been a rough year is a major understatement. It's been excruciating, exhausting, nothing is worthwhile anymore. Everything feels like nothing yet everything feels like too much, all at the same time. How does that make sense? Tell me, really.

They named the stadium after him. I haven't stepped foot over there since. Not that I've needed to, or even been in the area. We had to graduate not too long after that game. They still called him up, gave a picture a diploma, a useless piece of paper. How do you deal with grief like this? You see this shit in movies all the time and the characters sit around and cry about it but that's it. I can't cry anymore. I can't do much of anything anymore.

Just like that too. He was okay, I swear he was. I don't know how it happened, or what really happened. I can't look at any of the pictures we have together. The ones I'd sneak into the red room to develop.

He didn't give a fuck. He didn't even want to play this stupid fucking game. It was all his mom. He did it to make his mom happy. She always pushed him so fucking hard and she still goes to the games. I see her driving past my house, blasting music, happy as shit. What about Wally?

"Hey, can you stop by the school today? I called earlier and requested they print your transcript like you said you've been needing." My mom requests. I forgot about that. I finally focused on trying to get higher education elsewhere. I don't want to, but I have to.

"Yeah, yeah I'll swing by while you're at work or something."

"Speaking of which, I need to go now. I love you honey."

"Love you too mom." And like that, she's out the door. I wait a while before taking off. Make myself something to eat, feed the cat too. Wally and I were on our way home from school a couple years ago, I think it was freshman year. It was the sweetest little Tabby boy. Wally said we should name it French Fry. We went on about that for a little and landed on just Fry. God dammit Fry.

After maybe two or so hours, I grabbed my keys and left the house. The school is just a couple blocks away so it only really took maybe five, or ten minutes to get there.

I sit in my car for a moment and contemplate if I really want to go inside. I haven't been back since graduation, I vowed to never come back after Wally- yeah. After a moment I get out and walk into the school. This feels odd. Like I shouldn't be here. Despite that, I decided to walk around a little before heading to the main office. There's a trophy case in the main hall filled with his things. His jersey, awards, and notes from those he loved the most, except me. From his mother, father, best friends, just not me. They came to me shortly after the incident and asked me to write something to "remember him."

I tried. I wrote that damn letter hundreds of times. I couldn't get anything just right. What do you say about somebody after something like that?

"Wally Clark, beloved by many..." That's it.

Truthfully, he's the kindest person you'd ever meet. The most uplifting and supportive. He'd always be open to help you, even if you were typically considered a dick. You could completely trash on him, trip and fall and he'd be right there helping you up. He'd support your dreams, no matter what you wanted to do as long as it made you truly happy. He's fun and energetic, always running around, always playing games, making jokes, and making others laugh. Everything he does he carries a smile on his face, always. He was a friend to all. Was...

I run up to the roof of the school. We'd always come up here during lunch or after school when he didn't have practice. We'd sit up here for hours just talking, laughing, making out.. that feels like forever ago. I found myself sitting in my usual spot, feet dangling off the roof.

"You came back." a familiar voice says from behind me. Gut-wrenching. I whipped my head around and there he was. My Wally.

"What the fuck?" I get up and shift myself around the edge, getting further away from it.

"You finally came back. Rory, it's been so long, where have you been? I've tried asking people, and some people I swear I've never seen say they don't know who you are, some go right through me, but literally. Rory, I don't know what's going on. They tried telling me I'm dead but obviously that's not it and you're here now so it's just proving my point. Rory, where have you been?" He rambles. He doesn't pause between sentences and doesn't even stop for a breath.

"What kind of sick shit is this?" I ask myself.

"What do you mean Aurora?"

"Did I take anything? No, I drove here, I felt fine."

"Aurora what are you talking about?"

"What the fuck is this?"

"It's me, Wally. Rory, you know me."

"No, no you left. You- you never left the field." At this point, I notice the tears streaming down my face. It starts stepping closer to me, I back up.

"Rory watch your step, you'll-" it cautions.

"No! No, you don't get to- oh my god I'm losing my mind." he steps closer, and I back up.

"Rory, really, you're going to fa-" I step back once more but there's no ground under my heel. Actually, there's no ground under me. Until there was.

It feels so slow. The wind hits my back, I don't realize what's happened until I see him peering over the roof edge. Panic etched onto his face. I spent so long denying what happened to him. Thinking that he's still out in the world, he isn't gone, he's left the field. He hasn't died. But now he's staring back at me from the roof as I descend.

My Wally.