Sing Me To Sleep

Chapter 16

I pace in front of the skeleton boy, my eyes closed and the bridge of my nose pinched tightly between my thumb and index finger. I don't need to watch where I'm going; The vast darkness has surrounded us once again. Heavy black air stretches out in all directions, it's monotonous encasing only broken by the relaxing presence of the beautiful angel. He seems to shine, his aura sending off a vibrant glow that radiates through my mind. He looks mesmerizing. He's sitting cross-legged on the dark ground, his hands clasped together in his lap. He watches me intently, a small amount of amusement in his vibrant hazel eyes though they reveal mostly encouragement. He knows that I'm trying to remember and he's silently cheering me on. 

That's why I have my eyes closed. I can't look at him. If I were to look at him, my thoughts would be lost. He makes my heart beat and my palms sweat. He makes me want to do crazy things like tear apart my own mind or pull him into a passionate kiss, neither of which can happen. He offered to leave me alone to follow the thoughts on my own, knowing that his presence could be distracting, but I wanted him to stay. I don't want to feel alone. I hate feeling alone. When I'm alone, I want to die. But with the skeleton boy here, I feel alive. Even when I'm not looking at him, I know there's something special about him. He's my own personal angel. He's showing me that I should live. 

"Mikey Way..." I mutter the name aloud for the millionth time. It sounds fake on my tongue; Too heavy, the syllables seeming to fall together into one word. After repeating it so many times, it doesn't even sound real. "Mikey. Way." I sigh, biting my lip. I've been chewing the skin for awhile now. Time seems immeasurable as well as unimportant. Seconds are the same as minutes or hours to me here in the dark. But I know that I've been gnawing on it long enough to make the inside of my lip raw, the taste of iron mingling with the sour flavor of green.

"Green?" I stop mid-step, letting my head drop forward in defeat and my arms hang limply at my sides. "I don't fucking get it." I say, sighing out a single breath and then turning to face the skeleton boy. He smiles up at me. "What the hell does it all mean?"

The skeleton boy rises slowly to his feet, his movements swift and graceful and I find myself admiring the way his body moves with such confidence. How his legs are so limber, untangling themselves with ease. How his torso seems to be pulled almost by an invisible string and making the rest  of his slim figure follow suit as if he were weightless. His face is so relaxed, a placid smile in place. He seems so... angelic. His eyes glimmer in some unseen light, a vibrant green specked with flecks of brown and gold and black, like paint splattered on an otherwise untouched canvas. They seem so clear, like I'm staring straight past the delicate pupils, seeing something so pure and magical. Something... unreal. 

The adjective chosen makes my own smile falter, fading completely as the harsh reality hits again. The skeleton boy is not real. He is not an angel or a guardian or even a person. He is my imagination. He's a cruel reminder that I'm in a coma. I'm not awake. I'm not pacing the darkness. In my mind, I am. But my body...

My body is out there, cramped into the small confines of a hospital room, probably alone, being fed through a tube that's been shoved down my throat. I'm asleep and all of this is in my head.

But even at the heartache that stings in my chest at the thought, I yearn to reach out and touch the perfect boy. He feels real. He looks real. All of this is real to me. What's not real are the emotions I faked for so long. The happiness I tried to make everyone see, even my mom. What's not real is the fact that, at this moment right now, I feel content. Hell, I feel happy which is something I haven't felt in so long.

The skeleton boy comes face to face with me, coming to rest a few inches taller.

"I'll be right beside you," He promises.

I swallow hard, opening my mouth to say something but my words are cut short by the prickling feeling that seems to scratch at me. At first, it's nothing more than a gentle brush against my calloused fingertips. The sensation moves at a steady pace, traveling slowly up through my wrist, my arm, my entire body. I look down at myself in confusion, waiting to see the blue light, feel the burning pain of my medication. Instead, I just feel... numb.

I look back to the skeleton boy, beginning to panic. "What's happening?" I demand. 

The angel smiles sadly. "You're waking up."

"No." It's the only word I can form at first, the panic and terror swelling up at just the thought. "No, no, no." I take in a sharp breath, fighting with every ounce of my being against the internal pull I feel, tugging me toward the outside world. "I'm scared," I admit. My voice shakes only slightly at the fear that builds within me. My face, on the other hand, is much more revealing of my emotions, I'm sure. My eyes are wide and pleading. Every fiber of my being aches for this skeleton boy. "I don't want to go."

"Everything will be okay," He promises, but his words are meaningless to me right now.

I shake my head. "How can you be so sure?"

He doesn't answer right away. He moves his touch to my cheek, grazing my skin with the side of his hand. I lean into the touch, letting my eyes close against the tears I can feel coming, focusing on nothing but the electrifying contact of his skin. I breathe in, forcing myself to look at him, taking in every detail of this skeleton boy. His eyes are a piercing hazel and they seem to send a physical warmth through the vibrant gaze. His lips are a pale shade of pink, turned upward in a soft smile and the color seems to blend with his also pale flesh. I take both of his hands in mine and I'm sure he can feel them trembling. "Please," I beg, my voice choking on the tears that sting at my eyes. "Don't make me go."

He lets out a small breath of air that hits my face and neck, sending tranquil chills through me. He brushes my cheek again, pushing some dark hair behind my ear and letting his hand rest on the nape of my neck. He leans toward me, his voice nothing more than a whisper when he speaks. "I'll always be right here."

His lips brush mine, just barely, but enough for my body to electrify. It feels like every nerve ending within me is alive, convulsing with the gentle touch of the kiss. I close my eyes, letting myself lean into him, gripping the stiff fabric of his uniform between my fingers, pulling him even closer. More electricity moves through my veins, my blood seeming to carry the current of electrical waves to every inch of my body. With my eyes shut tightly, I don't see anything but the darkness, avoiding the tunnel vision and blurred sight as I'm pulled, finally, into consciousness.

When I eventually feel my physical body wrap around my mind, twitching my fingers and breathing in, I still taste the kiss lingering on my lips...