SHADES of GREEN ↬ m. wheeler

EP. SLEEP

EPILOGUE!
━━━━━ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ━━━━━
❝SLEEP❞

　
　

JADE AND MIKE sat together on her bed, shoulder-to-shoulder, backs to the wooden headboard. The tears had not had a chance to dry on her cheeks, for Mike had brushed them away with soft fingers, but she still felt the warmth along her skin.

　She had been reading for what felt like hours. They were so near the end of It, and both were burning up inside to know the story's conclusion. So she read on, past her trembling lips and slightly raspy voice. Jade had not expected to feel such true pain over a horror book; she had never expected to love the characters inside as if they were her own friends. How she wished she could flip the pages back and travel inside this world, to save those who needed saving.

　The book was heavy and thick on her left hand. Mike, leaning over to watch the words that poured from Jade's lips, held the right edge, though Jade's hand already secured it. She did not mind. She hardly noticed, so lost in a world she had begun to consider her own.

　"He's the last to go," Jade read on, softly, picturing Bill Denbrough standing alone. "He stands for a long time with his hands on the rickety white fence, looking down into the Barrens as, overhead, the first stars seed the summer sky. He stands under the blue and over the black—" Jade took a moment, trying not to choke up "—and watches the Barrens fill up with darkness."

　The images in her mind were beginning to reform. It was no longer merely the story of the Losers. As though her eyes were closed and she were dreaming, Jade saw herself gazing down at the Quarry waters, their black depths and the lengthy fall. She saw the waters covered by Darkness, a live and tangible thing. In those moments, while those who were meant to be divine failed, she had felt alone, to some extent.

　It had been little over a month since that night. The memories, to Jade's horror and to her quiet satisfaction, were beginning to dim. Still, the ghostly faces of those she'd thought she had known managed to float up in her dreams. This thought brought her back to an earlier portion of the end that had sent Jade into another fit of tears, though not quite for the reason Mike probably believed.

　The words were burned behind her eyelids now, forever reoccurring: They walked into the Town House on a wave of laughter, and as Bill pushed through the glass door, Beverly caught sight of something which she never spoke of but never forgot. For just a moment she saw their reflections in the glass—only there were six, not four, because Eddie was behind Richie and Stan was behind Bill, that little half-smile on his face.

　Jade was thinking of it again, but she kept replacing Eddie's name with the girl whose name she had never learned and Stan's name with Esme's, a beautiful smile playing on a face that had never belonged to her. It was utterly ridiculous, but it was the truth. Tears welled up in Jade's already bloodshot eyes; the gold flecks, which had not faded and which she was learning to love, were brighter than usual.

　"Are you okay?" Mike wondered, concern in his quiet voice. "Do you want to stop?"

　Jade shook her head and blinked away hot tears. "No, no, it's fine. I just keep thinking of—" She drew in a sharp breath, and closed her eyes. Her devastation, she knew, was probably dramatic to him, but she could not help seeing the characters as her own cherished friends. And she could not help but to, in some strange, strange way, mourn those she had killed.