CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
THERE IS A SENSE of emptiness that engulfs a person when everything has been destroyed. Loneliness that resides within the corners of one's soul, of one's mind waiting to consume the person whole once the time is right. It is a part of every human, some peoples' biggest fear — one that forces them to seek refuge in others, in hobbies, something to distract their mind from the truth.
Emptiness, loneliness, these feelings tend to become companions that last longer than relationships of any sort. Comforting people in the depths of the night, caressing their broken hearts — letting it bleed once more like the wounds that were never healed.
Though, like any companion, over time it latches onto a person longer than it should, without knowing how to say goodbye. Soon it becomes a part of that person, an extension as if it is another limb. And like that, it fools humans to think it's something necessary to hold onto when in reality it is the one thing holding that person back.
As if it is a blindfold, it wraps itself around a person's face, covering one's eyes making them blind to any attempts loved ones take to dig them out of the hole they've dug.
"Trevor, you know you can tell me anything right?"
"Yes, Mom."
"Why have you been taking sleeping pills from the medicine cabinet?"
As if its tongue speaks only of magical spells that keep one committed to it, too afraid to let anyone in and steal the emptiness they have promised to love and cherish until death do them part.
"Kate hasn't spoken to us in weeks... do you think something happened at her friend's sleepover?"
"Leave her alone, if she wants to be an adult and make her own decisions, she should face the consequences."
"She's our daughter!"
As if it only knows how to remain in one's heart forever, knowing nothing else besides residing in the darkness where it waits for a person to find it once more. A bad habit, everyone falls prey to, one that keeps them wrapped around its ring finger.
"I'm sorry, Raj. We have excellent grief counselors that will help you get through this tough time. My wife is a therapist, maybe she'll be able to help you process your feelings."
"He's here, he's just late for class — he's on a trip. Why do you keep telling me I need a therapist?!"
"It's been two months, Raj..."
Until death does them part.
When time continues to move without them, when the feet continue to hit the ground, the whooshing of bodies speeding to catch up to today, there is one thing that remains, waiting for a person stuck in time. Emptiness. It waits for that person to look back instead of forward, to seek solace in nothing but the emptiness that grows within them from the core. It waits, the way the person does for time to allow it to move on. Waiting, waiting, waiting, until one or the other succumbs to the bounds of the clock.
Knees hitting the ground make the loudest of noises, the sound of losing oneself, the most deafening song. The moment one accepts that they have lost the most important person in their lives, it extends its hand guiding one through a sea of darkness, digits made to entwine with them, welcoming them. It encircles them with an embrace so warm, they do not realize that over time it has become stone-cold, swimming in their veins, until all that is left is ice, too afraid of the warmth. No other hand fits into theirs like the hands of Emptiness, the others, too warm, daring to melt the person away.
And like that, one vows to only latch onto one thing — emptiness.
And their final dance — death.
+ + +
Tyler's eyes shifted from the window that overlooked the field below to the board littered with symbols he did not comprehend. A sigh resonated within him, but he didn't have the energy to emit it, instead, he lowered his head, the desk coming into his vision. His eyes searched for yet another thing to escape into, exhausted with only being able to feel the loneliness that roamed free in his body as if it had been hijacked.
When that failed, he lifted the pencil on the desk and attempted to solve the question that had ingrained itself into his mind. His teeth latched onto his bottom lip ever so slightly as he scribbled doodles on the paper as the teacher walked around to double-check that everyone had at least attempted the problem.
With finals around the corner, and teacher evaluations due, he knew that the last three weeks of schools were the most important. Though, he knew that a mere month would not be enough to save the failing grades that had tied yet another rope around him, holding him back from escaping this year that had given him a taste of hell.
"Mr. Meyers," her voice graced his ears, though he did not lift his head to acknowledge that he heard her. "Mr. Meyers, may I take a look at your answer?" Her dainty fingers brushed his bare arm causing him to flinch back from her warm touch. He watched her hands skim through his answer, a small breath escaping past her lips and dancing in the distance between them. "Your performance in this class has been on a gradual decline, Tyler." Her voice was hushed, the tone of concern in each syllable heightened the pitch of her voice. Although, even that was not enough for Tyler to rip his gaze away from the paper that had a single red 'X' on it. "You didn't even attempt the other problems, I allowed thirty minutes, and all you finished was the last question — half of the last question." She corrected herself.
" — Can I go to the bathroom?" Tyler interjected, finally looking up at the woman who'd left no stone unturned while trying to get the old Tyler Meyers back. He watched as her eyebrows furrowed, a wrinkle of worry digging deep into her forehead. "You don't need to worry," he found himself reassuring her, but he didn't even know what he didn't want her to worry about.
Perhaps life did continue without a person.
Perhaps one's life was not as significant as he'd thought.
Tyler slid out of his seat, shuffling out of the room as numerous eyes watched his every movement. The moment the door shut behind him, he breathed a sigh of relief, free of the confines the room had placed him in. His head turned to the left then right, wondering if the bathroom was truly his destination, or perhaps skipping school altogether. Tyler shut his eyes as he tried to make a decision so menial.
"I should..." he found himself talking to himself, biting down on his tongue so no one would look at him with the same judgemental gaze they'd adorned every time he stepped in their field of view.
Ever since he'd gotten into that fight with Dominic, it seemed that the remnants of the social circle he once belonged to had alienated him beyond what they had already been doing over the months after that party. Now they all lived happily in Dominic's palm, acting like his best friend, refusing to listen to what the people who suffered at the hands of his sinister actions had to say. Like him.
Tears stung Tyler's eyes as the guilt bubbled deep within his gut, daring to explode and poison the organs that were trying so hard to keep Tyler alive, despite his mind wanting otherwise. He wandered to the one memory he'd stored away forever, but he'd learned how short forever was when his first love was snatched away from him.
