Skies Do Fall

Ram called me later on that day. I didn’t answer.

Tristan checked on me as soon as he got home. I didn’t tell the truth.

Brendon didn’t even bother to call or check up on me. I didn’t think he would.

I wanted to be alone, isolated. Forgotten.

Brendon really didn’t mean that much to me. Well, not enough to cause me too much agony anyways. It was just one of those crushes that you could easily get over with simple eye contact with another plausible option. It should have been uncomplicated to mend.

The problem was that I was already carrying a good share of heartbreak and agony on my shoulders. It was like the simplest weight of a feather could cause me to tumble down. Brendon was lucky enough to be that feather.

Something that also displeased me was the fact that, not even 24 hours later, Brendon had moved on. Ram was the rebound while I would still be that burning, true desire captured inside his heart. At least this was how it was now.

I had broken down.

Tears still were an exhaust supply for me. I screamed and threw things and punched and kicked and scratched and bit, but not once did I shed a sliver of a tear.

Once my tantrum of painful rage had drained every bit of energy existing within my sixteen year-old body and soul, I passed out on my torn bed sheets and fell into a deep slumber.

My dreams no longer held the luxurious ease of blank darkness, but were now nightmares. I dreamed of many things, but anything from that terrifying nightmare I do not recall. I only remember waking up in a cold sweat, my throat sore from muffled out screams. Once reality set me back on my feet, it was as if my memory had been swept clean from those horrific fantasies.

The whole break I did not sleep again. The whole break I never left my room once. The whole break I did nothing.

Tristan brought me food, but I only ate when my stomach could not bear to go another second without food’s remedy. I would lie in bed for the rest of the day, staring blankly off into space while listening to every depressing song I had in my possession.

Christmas was hell. Tristan dragged me out of bed, forcefully, that morning. I opened up my presents blankly, not able to gather up enough strength to even act happy at the gifts I had received. My mother pulled me aside and asked me what was wrong. I didn’t have an answer.

What was I supposed to say?

“The reason I’ve been acting like an emotionless robot lately is because your husband and my father is fucking another woman behind our backs. Happy holidays!”

I escaped back to my room the second my family had their backs turned.

School eventually came again.

After procrastinating till the very last minute, I got up and threw on the first outfit I saw. I didn’t even comb my hair, but just wrapped the wavy strands back in a messy bun. I didn’t eat breakfast. I didn’t say goodbye to my family. I just walked to the bus stop with my headphones attached to my ears, showing as much emotion as a solid piece of sculptured statue.

There I was, sitting on the curb staring off to space in mid-tune of Bush’s Glycerine, when there was a sudden pop and the simple guitar’s roars vanished.

Looking up with heavy and unfocused eyes, I wasn’t the least bit surprised to see Brendon staring down at me with a disapproved grimace upon his round face.

He expected me to whine or call him an asshole, I was sure, but I just blankly stared at the face that I yearned to touch and call mine.

When I showed no sign of response, Brendon sighed, sweeping his hand over the left side of his face in frustration.

“Robin,” he sighed once more, shaking his head. “I just don’t know, Robin.”

I twitched my lip, the only reaction my body allowed me to display, and then looked away; gazing back off into the blank space as if I had never been interrupted.

Brendon huffed from above me, unsatisfied.

“Robin, are you going to even talk to me?”

I didn’t even bother to twitch my lip.

“It’s not my fault. You brought this upon yourself and you know it.”

No response.

“Robin!” Brendon whined, taking a seat next to me, staring at me, begging for an answer that would never come.

We sat in silence for a while. Even with my droopy eyes unfocused on Brendon, I could feel him staring holes into my face.

Out of nowhere came his voice, so soft and carrying so much strong emotions that it was next to impossible to stay put like I was doing.

Still watching me, Brendon whispered, “I wanted you, Robin. I wanted you, but you said no. Ram asked me out and I need someone there for me right now. I wanted that someone to be you, but you denied my hopes. I offered you a chance and you rejected it, so please stop making me feel so guilty. I can’t handle this guilt much longer.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught him debating whether or not to touch my hand. Just when his fingers were so close to my palm that I could feel the body heat radiating off his skin, there was screech of tires and then the shadow of the school bus casted over us.

Immediately, I jerked away rapidly, snatching up my bag and jacket before rushing onto the bus without a glance back.

I already knew what I would see: a heartbroken Brendon Urie staring right back at me.