A/N: I woke up this morning and found this drafted on my AlphaSmart. Sometimes I give myself the creeps. It was a weird night, I guess, but I like it. Inspired by Justin Cross' "Don't Drink the Water".
Said Amen
Take the match from its box. Last one. Cigarette to lips, third from a new pack. Held right, it keeps teeth from chattering, jaw free enough to speak. Smoke plumes with breath in the air, little flame's glow the only light save for stars, a waning moon.
"L-listen, okay?" All focus turns. "S-someone will come for you, I can s-see it."
"Kenny, what...?"
"Sh-shut up, o-okay?" Shuddering, dragging breath. Nicotine and habit can only calm so much. "Th-three days. Y-you'll be okay, b-but you n-n-need food."
"Holy shit, dude! No way! We're not going to-!"
"J-just do it. I w-w-won't hold it against you. T-take my c-coat, too. Not gonna need it..."
Dark mercifully hides the colors. Red on white is a nasty contrast. Black on muted blue can be ignored.
"Kenny, just hang on. Okay? ...Kenny?"
The light goes out when a burning cigarette hits snow, fallen from cold lips.
"Kenny? Oh my god..."
It always sounds like there's more to that. Never do hear the rest...
Feel of sobbing in the ether, sound of nightmares. Theirs, of course. Always theirs.
"I can still taste it..."
As foreseen, they make it home safe in body if not in mind.
Emotional pain slams through the soul and guilt accrues.
Not this time, murmured without a voice. Please, oh god, please, I can't leave them like this, not like this...
A string of begging words, anxious hope. It's almost a payer. To what who can say?
It's always like this. A guilty selfish hope that this is the last time, the final spin. A desperate yearning to go back, to undo what is wrong, put back the missing piece.
Not yet, not now...
Eyes open to count cracks in a familiar ceiling. Breath shudders through fresh lungs. With a new box of matches in one pocket, boots crunch softly through snow.
Standing outside a known window the world feels right. None of them will remember after all. Thank god. Or whoever. Whatever.
Brief thoughts pass: What's it like to forget? How much do you remember? Do the missing pieces ever bother you?
They dissipate like smoke on winter air.
All is well.
Put cigarette to lips, pull out a match. First one.
And again...