HEllo!
Another story, ik, shut up
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August 16th
"Catch up with me if you can!" Came the playful taunt of a laughing boy.
Ragged breaths were the only thing that could be heard, I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to control them.
"You're so slow!" He called, easily running far ahead.
Tears began attacking my eyelids, forcing their way out.
"I'll beat them all up, they'll pay." An angry teenager growled darkly, not hesitating to defend his best friend.
A sob ripped its way out of my mouth and I clenched my fists. A sharp pain rushed from my hand and I gasped, dropping the now bloody roses I had forgot I had.
They landed with a soft plat on the ground, little rivulets of blood dripping on them as they laid on the dewy early-morning grass.
"I can't believe you would do that you fucking idiot!" He snarled, angry and concerned at the same time.
They all said that it got better after time. Time would heal everything. You'd go from thinking about them once a day, then once a week, then once a year, then not at all.
What a bunch of fucking liars.
They told you the pain would fade, it would eventually lessen, and you'd move on.
Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance right?
They knew nothing.
The dam broke, and tears began flowing unhindered down my face, my teeth clenched.
Nobody ever told you what it was actually like. How it left a gaping hole in almost every part of your being. How the biggest parts of your life, the parts where they used to be, were suddenly empty. How you couldn't go to your favorite places anymore because all you could think about was how they weren't with you.
A strangled cry fell from my lips and I slowly picked up the bloody roses, placing them in front of the headstone.
I knew he was dead, that was clear, I accepted that. But his absence from my life was something I'd never be able to get over.
5 years. He'd been gone for almost 5 years.
Tears blurred my vision as I gasped in shuddering breaths.
You'd be okay for a while, completely fine, then something would come along- a song, a restaurant, an old shirt you found in your closet- and then it would hit you. Like a bus, and suddenly they were all you could think of and you can barely even breathe.
You'd never hear them laugh again.
Taking in slow, deep breaths, I sat down in front of the headstone, dusting it off with my okay hand as carefully as I could.
You'd never hear their voice again.
I swallowed, hoping to dissipate the lump in my throat. It grew as I kept crying.
It was almost like I had been living in a haze, everyday seemed a little emptier than the last, a little duller, and everyday I seemed a little less like me.
Because I'd never see him again.
Breathing out sharply through my nose, I moved the pink and yellow roses a little closer to the headstone. He'd always loved roses. Not that he'd ever tell anyone. I gave a sad smirk, he was always trying to act so cool.
A fresh, heavy stream of tears began down my face, and suddenly large, shaking, gasping breaths began wracking me.
I couldn't breathe, I couldn't think, all I knew was that it hurt.
Because my best friend was gone.
I sucked in a deep breath, closing my eyes and leaning my forehead against the cool grey stone.
And oh god I missed him.
A broken, hiccuping sob fell from my lips, even more tears falling out. I bit my lip, viciously shaking my head. He hated it when I cried, he wouldn't want me to.
But he was gone.
I could feel the makeup running on my face from the tears and could only imagine how bad my mascara looked. I couldn't even dredge up the energy to care.
Even if I had tried to look nice before I came, I didn't care, it didn't matter.
Reaching back blindly I felt for my bag and, upon finding it, shakily withdrew the music note keychain held inside it. The cool metal of the small object gave me some small semblance of peace and, breathing out slowly, I sat up and laid it next to the roses. He used to love music.
"Happy birthday," the whispered words breezed out of my mouth and I smiled a teary smile at the grave. He may have been gone, but that didn't mean I would forget his birthday.
He would have been 20 today.
My breaths came more easily now and the tears seemed to have finally stopped, but I didn't feel any better. I felt drained, tired, and my heart was still in two.
Small drops began to hit the ground, which I took I as my cue to leave.
"Bye," I murmured as I grabbed my bag and stood up, "Missing you,"
Wincing at the way my voice broke, I ambled away as the rain really began to pour, leaving his birthday present by the grave.
I missed my best friend so, so much.
But Jason Todd was dead. He'd died a long time ago.
And I thought about it every day.