In The Wind
Years have gone by but the pain is the same
I have passed my days by the sound of your name
Well they say that you're gone and that I should move on
I wonder: How do they know?
Death is a wall but it can't be the end
You were my protector and my best friend
Well they say that you're gone, and that I should move on
I wonder: How do they know?
How do they know? Well, they don't
-In the Wind by Lord Huron-
She was stupid.
She shouldn't be sitting here, freezing her butt off for no good reason in the middle of a forest. She huddled down at the edge of the lake, long frozen over by winter. But she couldn't help it, she always came back to sit and wait. Always waiting for something that never happened.
"You are such an idiot." She spoke to no one but herself, watching her breath float up, up, and away. She wasn't sure why she felt compelled to do this, wasn't sure why she felt the need to come back to this… place. She should be over it by now, she knew. It had been more than just a handful of years.
She stared out across the smooth ice, and wished with everything in her, that she hadn't been such a stupid, unlucky kid. Most stupid kids, maybe they fell and tore a pair of brand new pants, maybe they banged an elbow into a tree.
No, she was the stupid, unlucky kind that watches their brother drown. His frightened face burned in the back of her mind.
The wind blew gently and rustled through her hair, and she frantically smoothed it down; only Jack was allowed to rustle her hair like that. She could almost hear his laugh as the wind picked up, spoiling her efforts. She knew it was crazy, she did… but she couldn't stop waiting for Jack to burst through the ice and yell "got ya!" She supposed maybe she was waiting for closure.
All she knew is it felt like he was still here, still alive in this place somehow. His death felt totally unreal. He couldn't be dead; someone that lively couldn't just die. It also didn't help that they never found his body... It had been months before the water had warmed up enough for anyone to look, and by that time there wasn't a trace. She knew they hadn't meant to be cruel, but she still heard the whispered rumors of some scavenger dragging his body off when the ice broke.
That couldn't have possibly happened. Not to Jack. Surely life wasn't that cruel.
It was especially hard to believe he was actually dead at times like this. The wind was swirling around her, snowflakes dancing merrily with it. It tugged at her scarf playfully, and she grabbed it gently and tucked it into her jacket. It wouldn't be the first time she'd lost her scarf to the wind. She smiled sadly, and could almost feel his hand pat her head softly, before the wind rushed onwards.
She knew it was her imagination, but she could hear it; could hear his laughter echoing as he raced along through the trees to find someone else to pester. It was very much a Jack sort of thing to do.
If there was anything she was sure of, it was that Jack wasn't dead. Not really.