blue ✓

thirty

harry

The wind whipped at my skin in cold, harsh rushes, bursting through my hair and against my hot face that stained with tears. My legs moved faster than my mind, my head spun with each exhale I pushed from my lips but still, I ached inside and soon enough the numbness took over and I dropped to my knees.

I panted and cried, running my hands through the grass below me with aching knuckles and as the green stained my skin and dirt clogged my fingernails I began to breathe slowly again. I still raked my fingers through the earth, my eyes still on the ground below me.

"Styles, aim better next time aye?" Sean's voice croaked with the words he spoke, his flushed face smiling through blotchy freckles and sunkissed tones. "I'll kick it to you, watch my technique."

I nod, watching him lower the soccer ball to the ground before booting it to me. It was almost perfect, landing straight against my shin and leaving an aching blow to my leg. I scowled, my friend chuckled that familiar laugh at me before I steadied the ball and booted it back.

"Better," He says. "Wanna take a break?"

"Yes." I sigh. "So much."

Sean grasps the ball and places it under his arm, the mud still staining his large hands and his hair a wild mess under the sunlight. We smile at each other as we sit on the porch steps, gazing at the backyard with tired eyes.

I would always remember this yard with its large trees and polished garden, the dirt patches from Sean playing so much soccer his boots became worn and full of holes. We sat on the porch steps as six-year-olds, and now as twelve-year-olds and I hoped we'd still sit here as eighteen-year-olds. We were best friends since kindergarten and as I watched him sip on the Pink Lemonade his mother had given us, I hoped we'd stay best friends for the rest of our lives.

My eyes stung as I cried into the clouded skies, six years had passed since that day and we weren't sitting on those porch steps anymore. I look around me at the parks surroundings, now realizing I had run to the familiar park by his house where we came almost every Saturday to play soccer with our other friends.

I manage to pull myself up, taking in a deep breath as I wiped away the tears from my weary eyes. I walk towards the playground, the worn out swings a final resting place for my exhausted body as I found more tears dripping down my chin. I swayed a little, remembering the games we played as children to see who could swing the highest and touch the tarp over the playground with their feet. I smile at the memory, a smile that lets more tears wash down my burning cheeks.

I couldn't form words to describe the ache inside my chest, I couldn't find anything to feel good about except the memories Sean left with me. Anger was bubbling deep within and I knew it would soon surface, the shock of losing Sean was still stinging my soul and as the afternoon progressed to night I felt myself growing sadder each passing moment.

I sat at that park all night, swaying on those swings until my muscles burned with each movement. I sat still, staring at the stars as they faded into the black skies and I wondered if god was really up there and if Sean was greeted with a welcoming smile and if he could see us grieving his life down here.

Or perhaps he was just gone, a working body soon left to die and turn cold.

I didn't want that, I wanted Sean to live on forever and I wanted those bright eyes of his to glimmer when he laughed forever and that gap between his teeth to reflect how contagious his laugh was forever.

I wanted him to be immortal, to live forever and never die like the world had let him. So I rushed home, and I took his life into the shaking ends of my fingers and the bristles of an old paintbrush.