Oh, God, I can't breathe.
I wake to this thought every night, head pounding, sweat drenching my clothes, heart weeping.
Marlene don't you realize what you've left here?
That girl with the shaved head and bad attitude is nothing, you carved me out and forgot to fill me with any emotions to replace you.
You forgot to teach me how to live without you.
Your ashes are in the ground and- Oh, God- what if you are struggling for breath like I am, you crazy girl.
I didn't believe them when I heard; I thought it was a horrible joke, but no, there's a war, and no one jokes anymore about death. I found your broken body, and my eyes took a photo of your bent arms and legs; your open mouth and closed eyes.
You were still beautiful, even then.
I could've kissed you.
I would've.
I held your body one last time. I clawed at your clothes and hung my head, my tears spilling into your voiceless mouth. There was no blood, no trace of you for us to remember you. My heart slowed and went fast at the same time; it wanted death, too, I think.
Remember when we were at that transfer's funeral, and we got seriously hammered because Uriah had his father's flask? And we heard Eric preach about the bravery in death, and we agreed? God, we were right. You were braver than me, even in death. You will always be braver than me.
Marlene, I loved you, and when they burned your body I turned away, because I was willing to throw myself into the flames with you.