Gone. There was nothing left. Nothing that really mattered, nothing to believe in. Everything was a lie. This world is a lie, and I know that eventually lies get caught. So what is the point, really?
He was the only thing that was real to me. His ideas, his brutal disoriented honesty, his unpredictability. It's been a month since he's been gone. There's this void, this dark, painful, horrible void. I can't cope. I feel like I'm trapped inside some nightmare, that I just can't wake from. The days are long, and they drag. I find no real comfort lying in my bed all day, but there's nothing else. No reason.
I run my fingers through my dark, matted, greasy hair. My thoughts have me imprisoned here. This what loss feels like. Sometimes I think I'm going to hear the sound of my door being kicked in, and that my nostrils will fill with the scent of sweat, and sewer. It doesn't happen, and it never will again.
I wonder if he knew how much I cared, how much I loved him. It wasn't like I could just say it. He'd never hear me anyway. I wonder if he noticed a little bit. Maybe when he'd chew the sugar cubes I'd buy just for him, or when he'd shoot his grappling gun that I made him. He wasn't ignorant to my affections. He couldn't have been. He wasn't as stupid or crazy as everyone else wanted to believe.
I can still hear his words, they eco in my mind.
"You are a good friend."
They play, over and over and over. The nicest thing he's ever said to me, followed by a handshake. A small gesture of affection. He loved me too, in his own little way. We could have been so much more, but I'm a coward.
I twirl the knife in my hand.
"You are a good friend."
I'm haunted by his memory. A ghost I can't live with.
It slides so smoothly down my wrist.
Memories come back in flashes. Meeting him for the first time in the rain. Taking down Big Figure. The Watchmen.
The blood pools in my hand.
He tells me he's working on a kidnapping case. The Keen Act. Years spent in regret and cowardess.
It's pooling on the floor.
Silk Spectre. He was watching me outside the dinner. The end is nigh. The handshake. Karnak. His blood splattered in the snow. His hat blowing away in the wind.
"You are a good friend."
Darkness.