PinPoint - A collection of short stories

What would he do if I commited suicide, do you think?

I wonder if he would cry stars? Perhaps his touch would bristle crystals of ice which would spread across every surface, instead of his touch infecting the warm golden love it does now? I doubt he would even care. Maybe his eyelashes would throw sparks every time he blinks? Maybe he would simply pale. What if he gasped? Would he return home and stare at the wall in an attempt to sleep? Do you think it would haunt him; shadow his person and cross his mind at random? Do you think it would alter his personality? Do you think he would stare at the clock, counting the seconds in a minute like I do? Do you think he has insomnia? Do you think I would cause him to develop insomnia if he doesn't have it already? Do you think he screams when he's scared? Would I scare him? Would he be interviewed by the news? Would anyone even care enough to broadcast that? So many people commit suicide each day, does it even matter anymore? Would school let everyone out early? If so, would Mathew sit in his room silently? What kind of movies do you think my darling likes best? Would his parents bring him to ice cream? I imagine his family to be very strict and cold, so perhaps not. I wonder what kind of ice cream is his favorite? Is it wrong to fantasize about him commiting suicide just after me? Is it sick to imagine him doing it because of me? I wish I could hug him tight; just hold him right now. I have no way to express myself right now. Do you think his heart would become a waterfall? Or would his soul become one? The room is clad with smoke detectors, and the sound of my lighter striking the flame would wake my mother -- she sleeps so delicately. If I wrote or drew, the quiet scritch-scratch against the paper would stir my mother. If I cried, it would skew the silence. If I screamed, no doubt the whole building would sit straight up. Do you think it's true that he calls me his Son Lux and Solis, like his friend told me? I cannot rest, I simply cannot sit. This is madness. They stole my blades, my needles and pins. Son Lux means last light, and Solis means sunshine or sunlight. I'm at a loss. The quiet is so crushing; it feels as if the whole sky is resting on my lungs. Oh God, this is the most uncomfortable I've been in months.

-Milly 1:43 am