Entwined in This Infinity

18. Illuminate - Roy

There are light beams shining from his pores, a sun in his mouth, and spotlights in his eyes.

You can’t help saying it. “You sure do light up a room, Gerry.”

He grins, and it is blinding, but you’ve long grown accustomed to bright lights. He stretches a hand out, flexes it. “I do, don’t I? I could be your nightlight.”

“More like my floodlight.” You reach to touch his hair, because the glow highlights it from all sides, turning the dusty mess into an art piece. A few dried stalks of grass caught in the back fall out, and you smile to cover up the flinch of that reminder.

“Hey, you okay?” He grabs the hand in his hair and stands, tugging you into a hug. “You look like you’re gonna cry.” He is guileless, a complete honesty that many have attributed to you but you’ve never had.

You crumble and clutch at his shoulders, each sob a punch in your gut.

He is startled into silence for a moment, then begins to run a soothing hand down your back. “It’s okay, man. Whatever it is, it’ll be alright, we’ll all be—” His arms drop, his head lolls forward, and then he is a dead weight that falls back, straight to the ground where his skull smashes against the carpet.

He is no longer alive with light. He is no longer alive at all. You’ve killed him, a second death.

It would be justice to let him slumber, let his soul close its weary eyes and take its long rest. But as you collapse to your knees and lose yourself to grief, you know you will not. You have been faced with the age-old decision, and you have fallen victim to it.

You fall asleep on the floor and wake up to the gagging sight of a decomposing body. After throwing up at the sight of his pooling blood, waxy skin, and sunken eyes, he is lit up once more, though this light is softer. It pumps his blood and fixes the nasty effects of early decay.

You can’t help sobbing a little more, knowing what you are doing to him.

The light intensifies.

Gerry sits up rubbing the back of his head. “Jeez, must’ve fainted or something. That’s crazy. Sorry if I worried you.” He places his hand on the part of you closest to him, your leg. “You feeling better since I was out?”

“Definitely.” It is the least believable lie you have ever told, but he gives you space.

He jerks his thumb in the direction of your bedroom. “Wanna watch Netflix ’til you have to go to work then?”

“I don’t have to work.” You called in sick for the next week after you found Gerry lying ungodly still in the plain.

“Awesome!” Barking a laugh, he leaps to his feet. “We’ll veg out and get caught up on Orange Is the New Black.” He holds his hand out to you to grab ahold of, but you struggle to your feet on your own. You have to start somewhere, after all.