MEnAce (peterick)

19 - Pete

As the sun sets over the insignificant little town of Camden, I regret that we didn't find this place sooner.

I regret that we didn't get to sit here side by side, hand in hand, dangling our legs over the edge, the light breeze threatening to push us off balance. I regret that I never got to see the glint in his eyes as he watched, fascinated as the world closed its eyes and went to sleep.

I'd give anything to do that with him. And I could. I could give my own life to see him again, just one more time, to tell him goodbye.

I'm starting to regret walking out, because it shouldn't be Dallon holding him while he takes his last breath. It should be me. He would have wanted it to be me.

He would have wanted it to be me, and I'm not there.

Dallon is alone. He doesn't deserve to be alone right now. He doesn't deserve anything he's been through. If anything, he's been through a worse hell than I have. And I'm probably just about to go ahead and play my part in making that hell just the slightest bit worse.

But he'll be okay after that. He'll get to go home. He'll get to live in a nice house and get a well-paid job and maybe even find himself a loving partner. He'll live a full life undaunted by nightmarish memories, because he's the kind of guy who won't let himself be unsettled by a horrible past. He's the kind of guy who will only allow himself to remember the good.

If I wait patiently for long enough, maybe I could live that kind of life. But I couldn't do it. Even if I managed to survive the waiting part, I couldn't, not even with a loyal friend at my side.

I swing my legs from side to side, leaning back on the balls of my hands. The sky is darkening, and the clouds are rolling in. It's going to rain tonight, and in the morning the grass will be slick with dew.

The wind picks up and the trees sway and their leaves tremble as if they are afraid of the dark. No birds sing because they've heard a storm is coming. They abandon their homes, taking flight, migrating toward safety, but they don't need to worry about anything, because it will only be temporary, and tomorrow they will come back home.

I lean forward, gripping the edge of the building, hovering far above the ground like I am God gazing upon His creation. I lean further out still, gripping the edge so hard my knuckles turn white, and I estimate the number of storeys I am sitting upon, and I try to guess how long it would take a five foot six man to get to the bottom if he jumped. Seven storeys. No more than a few seconds, give or take.

I'd give my own life to see him again, to tell him goodbye.

He would have wanted it to be me, holding him while he took his last breath.

And I'm not there.

So I let go. It's easy. Exhilarating. I am on a rollercoaster; my stomach drops and I squeeze my eyes shut and I thrust my hands to the sky. The wind is freezing but it whips by so fast my skin burns, contorting my features and barricading my tear ducts.

A few seconds, four to be exact.

And then the ground.

My eyes snap open when I feel a hand on my shoulder. At first I fear Dallon has found me. But the hand is not warm, and it is not trying to pull me back from the edge. It simply sits there, a gesture, reminding me that I am not alone in this moment.

Patrick sits down next to me, and slips his legs over the edge. The toes of our shoes collide. He places a hand on my knee and gazes out. "I have good news and bad news."

My voice sounds foreign, as if I'm hearing an echo of it from far away. I frown. "I don't want to hear the bad news."

"The good news, then," he decides. "You don't have to say goodbye."

My eyes furrow in confusion. "But they said there was nothing they could do."

"They were telling the truth," he says. "But I did something."

He looks at his hands, and I look at his hands. They are stained with purple and red. For a moment I feel betrayed. "Are you telling me you were pretending to be asleep that whole time just so you could jump out and kill them when they least expected it?"

And I can't hold it in. I chuckle.

Patrick avoids my question, but I sense his smile. "You did something."

My breath catches, and when I look up at him, he's looking right at me, a hint of a smile on his pink lips. And his eyes are not glowing purple, nor are they dull and grey. They are green. Bluish-green, like the sky and the grass have merged together.

We draw back from the edge and stand, our hands still clasped. The breeze is soft and light, and the birds have returned home, the oncoming storm forgotten about. The sun continues to set. Here, the world is going to sleep. Somewhere, it is just waking up.

And we did get to sit here, side by side, hand in hand, dangling our legs over the edge, the light breeze threatening to push us off balance. I did get to see the glint in his eyes as he watched, fascinated as the world closed its eyes and went to sleep.

He would have wanted it to be me.

And I was here.

"It's time to go," he announces softly, a whisper.

"Don't leave me again," I plead.

He raises an eyebrow, grins. "What made you think I was leaving without you?"