Sing Me To Sleep

Chapter 12

Pain seems to pelt me from all sides, every viable part of my body cringing in on itself to avoid the attack. Of course, with my luck, it wasn't from an external source and the way I hug my own body closer doesn't help at all. I didn't even have time to open my eyes before the pain settled in. My only reaction is to take up the fetal position and wait for the agony to end.

And what happens when it finally goes away? I wonder. What happens then? Do I open my eyes and see another hospital room, or darkness? An apathetic mother and over-worked nurse, or the skeleton boy? Fear swells inside of me, crammed against the pain in the small space of my mind and body, and I realize I don't want to open my eyes. I don't want to know what's real and what's a figment of my own demented imagination. I want to stay here, alone in the emptiness of my mind, forever. 

With less misery, of course. 

I hear myself whimper a little as the pain spreads from my arm toward the rest of my body, sending burning shocks everywhere like sparks of lightning. But somehow, even through the agonizing ache, the feeling seems vaguely familiar. I think it should be rather easy to remember where I've felt this kind of pain before, but in the middle of the writhing my mind goes blank. It's only when I hear the soft voice that I everything comes back to me. 

"It's almost over." I peel my eyes open, ignoring the protesting pain that pulses through me. I need to see him. I need to know he's real. Or as real as a mental formation can be.

It's dark, the only light seeming to radiate from the skeleton boy himself. My heart nearly stops when my eyes finally find him, standing a mere foot away, watching me with an empathetic gaze. He drops to his knees in an instant and I struggle to pull myself closer. He helps me sit up, placing his hands on either side of my face, and that's all I need. As soon as his skin makes contact with mine, the pain dulls. My mind becomes clearer and my vision sharpens, allowing me to focus more on the angel before me.

I open my mouth to speak. I need him to tell me what the hell is going on, I need to hear his voice again. But he simply shakes his head once, successfully silencing me, and I settle on watching him. The pain slowly subsides, leaving me breathing hard and feeling exhausted. I don't move, though I want to fall into his arms and never let him go.

A choked noise escapes my throat and I realize that silent tears stream down my cheeks. It only then occurs to me just how broken I felt without the skeleton boy beside me. He was my anchor; Holding me to something substantial. He's a simple figment of my imagination, but he's so real to me. He's more than I've had in a long time and the emptiness that overtook me when he disappeared felt suffocating, like I was drowning in the reality of how alone I really was.

"That was medication, wasn't it?" I finally ask. I remember easily now the first time the blue pain took over my body. The light that was injected into my arm, the agonizing burn that came with it, and the way the skeleton boy had made the pain disappear, like he just did once again. 

The angel nods. He's so close to me still, his beauty again shocking me, making me feel awestruck at his simple perfection.

"But..." I swallow hard, my words seeming to catch in my throat. "But I woke up." My breathing quickens at the memory. "I woke up in the hospital..." My words trail off painfully and the skeleton boy shakes his head.

"Your medication was diminishing." He explains and his voice shocks me to the core. Hearing it again, after the thought of losing him, seems like a godsend and I fight, once again, the urge to lean into him. "You were starting to wake up. You were being taken away from your subconscious, pulled toward reality. Into a dream."

I let out a shaky breath. "That was all a dream?" I ask. The angel nods. I close my eyes and this time allow myself to give into my desires. I pull the skeleton boy into a hug, wrapping my arms around his slender body and sighing in content when I feel his arms around me. "What's gonna happen," I say, mostly thinking out loud. "When I wake up? Will I forget you?"

I feel the skeleton boy shake his head, not seeing the movement as my face is buried in his chest. "You'll remember," He says. 

"What if I don't want to?" I demand.

"Remember?" He clarifies. "Well, they might just be vague thoughts that--"

"No," I shake my head quickly, cutting him off. This time, I lean back, needing to see his face. I want to remember all of this; His hazel gold eyes, his perky nose, his rugged jaw. I want to remember the feeling of his arms, so real, around me. "No. I mean, what if I don't want to wake up?"

The skeleton boy simply watches me for a long time. He doesn't speak, the silence between us hanging heavy like a noose. Eventually, he brushes some of my hair away from my face, letting his finger drag along my cheek. "I want you to wake up, Frank." He states. "Please. Do it for me."

I shake my head frantically, just the thought of waking up seeming like a curse. "I want to stay here with you."

"I'm not real, Frankie." His voice is soft, but the words seem to cut through me like knives. The final realization of the simple sentence seems searing, burning hotter than the medication ever could.

"No." I try to sound defiant, not sure if I was trying to convince myself or him, but the words are laced with the tears that are once again streaming. "This is real." I grasp the front of his jacket between my fingers. My eyes search his for some sign of comprehension. "You are real." He still says nothing, his expression nothing more than sympathy. "Dammit, Gerard!"

I want to hit him and kiss him all at once, needing to feel him close to me but knowing that he's right; He isn't real. But then I realize what I said. Gerard? Who the hell is Gerard? For a slit second, I think it might just be a random name I subconsciously came up with; Calling him The Skeleton Boy all the time was weird. He's so real to me by this point, I think that maybe I decided to give him that name just to be able to call him something. But the smug smile that forms on his lips makes me realize that I'm wrong. That name... It means something, to him and certainly to me. 

"Why did I call you that?" I demand.

The skeleton boy, Gerard, just smiles, looking pleased. "You're starting to understand," He says.

But this small statement only confuses me more. "Understand what?"

His fingers brush against my jaw, his expression now beaming with joy. "Who I am."

"What?" I say quickly. "No, I don't get it." I can feel him being pulled away from me, some unknown force dragging him away, his body seeming to lose color, fading fast into the surrounding darkness. But I need answers. "Who are you?"

"I'm out there, Frankie," He says. "I have been the whole time. I'm just waiting for you to wake up."