Moving down the silent halls, I am struck. We are all alone as I had always feared. In death there is only one. The footsteps that should sound so loudly in the cavernous halls are nothing but small pitters that might just be my imagination anyway. I failed, I screwed up, this I know. Is that what you wanted me to say? You could have had it, I swear. Of course you would have had to kill me first……
I suppose I am the Big-Head Boy like you said. I wish I could tell you that I loved you all. I wish I could tell you that I did it all for you, that, however, would be a lie. I denied you and I'm sorry now. If I had it to do over, do over, remember? In games as children we always got do-overs. Remember that, I was a kid just like you. I was on your team, remember? I only hope to get to the place where I'll meet you again though I know I shouldn't; I don't deserve it.
So I'm moving down these sterile halls. I'd like to tell you about the craftsmanship of the walls. I'd like to tell you dear that the ceiling's painted blue, the kind of blue you only see in fairy-tales. I'd like to tell you so many things, namely sorry. But I'm moving toward that nothingness that's just up ahead, right around the corner. Is that my punishment: to have nothing for which to strive. Could I move in for one more hug, just one I swear? Is that jasmine that you always wore in your hair?
I remember it now, all of those moments. Just to let you know, I appeased myself with eternity. I could do it now and apologize later. They all run together now in such clarity. I can see each second so clearly; now I can see what a jerk I've been. Now I wonder how I didn't see it before.
I can see me now, tossing aside your letter. It sat on my desk for the servants to throw away. All I could see was him, and that somehow he thought more of me than you did. He thought I was special. But what I realize how is that you treasured me. I don't know how many times I should say it, but I'm sorry. Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, and that's what I'll be saying forever now. You know that reverberates off these halls… I can see your faces, each in turn. You're smiling as I hope you're smiling now. I guess, blame it on a rush of blood to the head.
A/N: It's short and written in stream of consciousness (kind of) but I think you should know about what it is speaking. Anyway, review s'il vous plaît!