Fall from Grace
B. Falconer

(I am falling)

I had been lost in darkness, stumbling endlessly in a place of nothingness. I drowned in a vacuum that was the consumer of all. In this I could not breathe; I had lost the ability to scream. People surrounded me but I was separate from them. I had no right to be unhappy and I hid my feelings. I always had to be happy. That's what I was supposed to be, so I was.

My brother was all round me. To him, we were best friends (bless his soul). We were nothing more than brothers. However, I wanted more. He would hate me if he knew. I wanted out of that darkness. I wanted his light.

Where am I now? I'm in my room, his room-- and I walk to him. He lays sleeping and I stumble over, failing as always in my attempt to not make a sound. He stirs and I wait with bated breath until he settles and I lay down beside him. He is warm. He is quiet. He is immeasurably still. I turn and hover over him, feeling his breath on me. I shiver, feeling cold. Why am I doing this to him? I feel ashamed but still I can not help it when my fingers touch his lips and I jerk back because they are like ice. My perception is heightened and I see a contrast in his almost glow-in-the-dark hair and his cold-as-death lips. I lean in closer, weaving my hands into his hair, and my lips touch his lightly. He stirs again and turns. I try to catch myself before I fall and wake him and wince when my elbow slams into his stomach and he cries out, waking fully. My eyes glaze and I stare past him as he sits up.

(I have failed again)

"What're you doing?" he says, blinking free from his eyes his tiredness.

I do not respond but lay beside him in silence, wishing that I had not been so daring tonight.

"Hmm?" he prompts, and I move to leave. He grabs my arm and I am frightened. "What're you doing?" he asks again, now fully awake.

I bring myself to answer with a half-truth that I have become increasingly better at inventing. "'S lonely," I say, bringing my eyes to his face.

He stares back. He studies my face, trying to read it. I close my eyes. "I'm tired," I say. I make another move to leave but he once again holds me back.

"I'm lonely too," he says, and now it's me who is surprised. He touches my hair and I see in his eyes my own. "Just like you." My fall from grace includes his ice-cold lips and fire-red hair (his fire burnburnburns)-- it is not a contrast anymore (I am now all for harmony) and I remember how I once learned that two halves make a whole. There is still darkness but it is shared and I am gone.

(and he has raised me up)