Red, Heart-Shaped Balloons

Here I was. Standing on the dock in my white dress and holding my red, heart-shaped balloon, which was my way of remembering the event of what happened on this day. It was on this day, two years ago, that he left. The poor, little, eight-year-old boy. He was my hero. He was stronger than anyone I’ve ever met. And now he’s dead.

It doesn’t seem fair that something beautiful, like the lake, could take the life of an eight-year-old boy.

I stared out into the green-like waters, praying there was something better. Better than this. This green and blue world we live in.

Stanley was the most beautiful boy in the world. Blonde hair, blue eyes. He would’ve been a heart-breaker. If only I was there. It was my fault. That damn water. That damn, beautiful, man-made creation.

I was alone. No one around. Just like that day. When I should’ve been here. Here, in this spot. But I wasn’t. I wasn’t, so he’s dead. He’s dead and gone, never to return. I just had to answer the phone. She trusted me with him. Emily trusted me, and now her little brother’s dead.

I dropped to my knees. “I’m sorry, Stanley,” I said to no one. I looked up. Maybe there was something better. Maybe he’s in Heaven, or whatever place it is people go when they die. Maybe they live on a cloud. Maybe Stanley has his own, fluffy cloud. I smiled at the thought. Then, I started to cry.

As I held the balloon, I thought about that day. That horrid day.

I walked in the house to answer the phone. Right before I picked it up, I looked out the window to see Stanley. He was in the water. He wasn’t suppose to be. He can’t swim. He was bobbing up and down. I just stared, horrified. I didn’t even run out to him. I just stood there and watched as my best friend’s little brother drowned, and never came back up.

Why am I so stupid? Why couldn’t I just go out and help him?

As I thought this, I was thinking about God. If there even really was a God. What if there isn’t? What if Heaven’s not real? I mean, why would God kill an innocent eight-year-old boy? Oh, wait. That’s right. God didn’t kill him. I did. I killed Stanley. Because I’m an idiot.

As I stood there in my white dress, I looked up at the sky. Maybe there is a Heaven. Maybe he’s there now. Maybe he’s looking at me, hating me for what I did. No. I don’t think you can hate someone and be in Heaven. Then, maybe he’s not in Heaven. Maybe I’m just contradicting myself. Maybe there is no God, no Heaven, no angels. Nothing. Maybe you don’t even go anywhere when you die. You just lay there, staring at nothing. At darkness. All alone. No one with you.

I don’t know. I don’t think anyone really knows. Maybe God’s a myth, maybe He’s real.

I spent hours out on this dock. Thinking. Thinking about Stanley. About God. About Heaven. I finally came to the conclusion that there had to be something better. So, I decided, that I do believe in God. In Heaven. In angels. I mean, what is there to lose? I’d rather live believing He’s real and then die to find out he’s not than to live believing He’s all a lie and then die to find out He is real. Who wouldn’t? I expect that there’s a place called Heaven with a God. And I believe Stanley’s up there.

I looked up, and smiled. I smiled at God. I smiled at Heaven. I smiled at Stanley. He’s looking down on me, loving me, even though I killed him. I killed him, and he loves me. Huh. Who would’ve thought?

As I stared up at the sky, I smiled. I smiled for me and Emily. And I smiled for Stanley. I looked back down at the water, and thought. I’m going to see Stanley. I’m going to see him when I die and go to Heaven, whenever that may be.

I looked back up. And then at my red, heart-shaped balloon. Suddenly, I let it go. I let go of the balloon and watched as it floated up to where I thought Heaven would be. It floated up to Stanley. Maybe he’ll catch it, I thought. And if it reaches Heaven, and if Stanley does catch it, he’ll know it’s from me.