Crash Into My Arms

I hadn’t been out in days, nor had I left Gerard’s room. His body had been taken away to the morgue at Newark General, and his funeral was being planned. His smell still lingered in the sheets of his bed, and I remained buried underneath them. Moving meant everything would become real. While I remained where I was, I could pretend this was all just a bad dream and that I was going to wake up sometime, anytime soon.

I couldn’t come to terms with him being gone, I just couldn’t. How could he be smiling, laughing, singing to me, playing his guitar, Trick Or Treating and carving Jack-O-Lanterns, kissing me, making love to me one minute, and be taken from the world the next?

No, he was still here, he had to be. He had to have recovered, had to have been cured. He’d be home soon, surely, and back in my arms. I swallowed hard at the lump in my throat as I shot up from the bed, tossing his Batman plushie at the wall.

I screamed, and pulled at my hair, rocking back and forth. No, he couldn’t be gone! I couldn’t be alone again! He and I were meant to spend the rest of our lives together! He wasn’t meant to just spend a few beautiful months with me and then leave this world, he was meant to grow up and live out the rest of his life! WHY?! What had he done to deserve such an abrupt end to his existence?!

The door opened and Mikey walked in. He saw the tears streaming down my face, the heaving breaths I was taking, and immediately rushed towards me and wrapped his arms around me. He cradled me in his arms and stroked my hair.

“Shh, Miz.” He breathed, kissing my hair.
“He can’t be gone, Mikey, he can’t!” I cried into his chest.
“He’s gone, Miz.” Mikey spoke, his voice ridden with utter sadness.
“He’s not, he’s still here, I know he is.” I whimpered.
“Only in spirit.” He sighed. “Only in spirit.”
“No, he’s here…” I repeated.

***

Mikey stayed with me until I cried myself to sleep, and I re-awoke a few hours later to find him still by my side. He stroked my arm, much like his brother had the day I had stayed here instead of going to school after Mama had stressed me out, and repeated the same words Gerard had spoken;

“Feeling better?”
I frowned, sniffling against a few lingering tears. “No.”
He gave me a look of sympathy. “He wouldn’t have wanted you to be like this, Miz.”
“Stop talking about him in the past tense!” I snapped.
“I have something for you.” He said suddenly, changing the subject.

He rolled over and grabbed something from Gerard’s bedside table. It was a CD case, like the kind singles came in. The title read “For Miseria.” Mikey handed it to me.

“What’s this?”
“Just watch it, you’ll see.” He answered, leaning forward to turn the DVD player and TV at the end of Gerard’s bed on. He opened the disc drawer and placed the DVD in, pushing the Eject button to make it go in, before getting up. “I think it’s best if you watch this alone.” He said, and left the room, closing the door behind him.

The screen brightened, and I recognized the Way family lounge. A familiar mop of black hair hung from the head of a young boy at the piano. I felt the lump rise in my throat again. This couldn’t have been filmed that long ago; Gerard looked exactly the way I remembered him. Before the sickness had taken its toll and he'd begun to waste away.

A soft melody filled the room as he began to play and sing;

“Turn away, if you could get me a drink, of water cause my lips are chapped and faded, call my Aunt Marie, help her gather all my things, and bury me in all my favorite colors, my sisters and my brothers, still, I will not kiss you, cause the hardest part of this is leaving you…”

He stopped for a few minutes, wiping a tear from his eye, and continued;

“Now turn away, cause I'm awful just to see, cause all my hairs abandoned all my body, oh, my agony, know that I will never marry, and baby, I'm just soggy from the chemo, but counting down the days to go, it just ain't living, and I just hope you know, that if you say, goodbye today, I'd ask you to be true, cause the hardest part of this is leaving you…”

He stopped again, took a breath, and played the final line;

“Cause the hardest part of this is leaving you…”

He reached out and grabbed the camera, and I could see his face clearly. He was crying, and I wished so badly that I could reach out and wipe his tears away. But this was only a video. Then suddenly, he spoke;

“I love you, Miseria.” He whispered, sniffling against his tears.

He brought his hand to his lips, kissed it, and touched it to the camera.

“I love you, so, sooo much…”

The image faded to black, and it was over…