Wires

“Gabriel is such a nice boy,” my father sighed at the table on the morning of July 20th, 2005. He was holding a newspaper in his hands, and I knew exactly what he was squinting at. “He must be devastated.”

Sitting opposite him, I made a noise of agreement and continued eating my toast. I was aware that, by now, my father had looked up and was closely inspecting me, but I was beyond caring as my memories engulfed me.

Gabe was devastated, it was true. I knew this because I met him on my own for the very first time the night Nancy died. He had never frightened me more, mostly because I had expected him to be Gabriel. Getting something you didn't expect, especially in the package of a sobbing fool who couldn't make sense, was always disappointing.

Gabe blamed me, and that was okay, because the guilt alive in my stomach told me it was my fault. From that night, I just remember his wide eyes, and that I cried a lot. He probably cried a lot as well, but, see, I just don't really want to remember.

I said Gabriel was the reason and Nancy was the victim. That's still true, that's still all true. Just, maybe I have a little more to do with it than I first let on. I'm sorry, Nancy, I'm so sorry.

Gabriel is the reason, because he and Nancy met for the first time on the 17th of July as well. He is the reason, because he told her everything. Every last word, which he could somehow remember. I don't know how he could recall every last thing I'd said and done, but if Nancy hadn't been the victim, I probably would have been flattered by this.

I guess Gabriel had a very good memory, because on the 18th, he told me everything that had happened the night before. Gabe had got to me first, but he didn't know the details quite as well as my Gabriel did.

Gabe told me Nancy died. He told me she killed herself, sort of. He told me it was Gabriel's fault, then he told me it was my fault. It was Gabe, though I'm not sure how I knew. He came to me mumbling nothings, but he soon told me everything. I just don't know how, because that was the first time I'd ever understood something that Gabe – not Gabriel – had said. It scared me to comfort him, but it was better than having him stare at me accusingly. It scared me that I had to.

As I said, I don't really like to remember.

In the morning, he was gone and I was all out of tears, so when Gabriel told me what happened, I couldn't cry any more. He said that he had told Nancy what happened with us. But that wasn't enough, he told me. He said she was sad, that she hated both of us, but it was not enough.

“She hated me because I existed,” he explained, as I was nestled in his arms. “And she hated you for knowing I existed. And she also hated you because you didn't care for Gabe.”

He went on to tell me how ruthless he was with her. He told her that Gabe was dying, and he didn't want him there any more. He told her that by morning, Gabe would be gone, and it would only be Gabriel.

Nancy did not love me enough to live.

I reasoned that I was the last to ever see Gabe, in my room that night. Since Nancy and I were most likely the only ones that ever had seen him, that wasn't much of a prize.

Nancy was just waiting to be a victim. She was waiting to fall into the arms of Gabe's star-crossed wires, whatever that was supposed to mean. She was just waiting for the most unstable boy she had ever met, with a counterpart that wanted to be rid of him so bad. She would not love someone that could give her life, only death.

And then, Gabriel told me the reason that this was happening now was because he finally had me. Before, Gabe had been the only one with something significant to live for. Someone to make sense of his many wires and to follow them to the ground.

Nancy and Gabe were made for each other, and now they were both dead.