My Castles Are Falling

While everyone else was drinking, eating and carrying on conversation, Alex was seated on the roof, staring out into the night. The tears had not stopped flowing since the previous evening when they started, except for the brief period of time he had managed to sleep. Every second hurt. He had never missed anyone so much.

Footsteps came up behind him and the person they belonged to sat beside him without a word. They both remained silent for awhile with the exception of Alex's occasional sniffles.

"Not in the mood?" Rian asked, picking up Alex's full beer bottle. Alex shook his head. "I wish I could tell you that things will be fine, but I know you can't believe that right now."

Alex shook his head again. "Things won't be fine. Raynie Day had so much going for her," he mumbled quietly, "It's not fucking fair that she died. It's not fair."

"I know," Rian said quietly, gently patting his friend's back. "Your mom is really worried that you might jump off the roof."

"It's not a long enough fall to kill me," he said. Rian sighed quietly. "Not that I'm thinking of killing myself. I'm just saying."

"Regardless, your mom would really appreciate if you would come inside. Rayne's mom too," Rian said. "Everybody's really concerned about you."

It took a moment for the meaning of the words to process in Alex's fuzzy brain. He nodded and stood up, fixing his white tie and tucking his shirt in. Deep purple had been Rayne's favorite color for as long as he could remember, and she had always loved it paired with dark gray and white. And that was exactly what he wore. Whether she was alive or not, all he ever wanted was to be able to make her smile.

The boys made their way back to the celebration of Rayne's life. It felt like anything but a celebration to Alex. And what was there to celebrate? Rayne didn't have a life anymore. There was nothing joyous about the occasion, yet people were smiling. Alex wanted to punch those smiles off the face of each person who shot one in his direction.

As soon as she saw him, Rayne's mother opened her arms and took a few steps toward him. The tall young man accepted her embrace and leaned down, burying his red, tear soaked face in the crook of her neck. The tears flowed more freely than before and his body began to shake. The older woman rubbed his back, tears breaking free from her own eyes.

"I really loved her," Alex muttered in between sniffles.

"I know, Alex. I know. She loved you very much as well," she responded.

He moved his head slightly side to side, "Not the same way."

"Nonsense. You meant more to her than any other person in her life," Lauren said, taking hold of Alex's biceps and pulling him away from her. "Look at me, Alexander," she instructed. He did and she continued, "Don't you ever doubt the way Rayne felt about you. You were the best friend my daughter ever had. And she loved you very, very dearly."

Alex nodded, "Yes ma'am," he said, his face clearly showing the exhaustion he felt. "I miss her so much."

"I do too. But I'll get through this. And so will you. It's going to take time. Just remember that Rayne wouldn't want either of us to be sad forever," she said.

"I can't stop crying," Alex said honestly, "I've tried, but it just hurts too much."

Lauren reached up and cupped Alex's cheek in her hand, "You kept it all inside for too long. No one expected you to be strong. And no one is expecting you to be strong now. Your tears are well justified."

"How are you keeping it together?"

"I'm not keeping it together, Alex," she said, "I'm a wreck on the inside. I cried for four days straight. And I still cry myself to sleep every night, and I cry as soon as I wake up in the morning. I sit in her room and I look at all her things and think about how I need to clean everything up and put it all away. But I can't bring myself to do it. I'm barely holding on by a thread."

It was at this point that another hand grabbed Alex's arm. It belonged to his mother. Worry was written across her face as she looked at her son. She couldn't remember ever seeing him so broken before. It nearly killed her inside knowing there was nothing she could do to ease his pain. It was something only time could heal. But even at that, he had to want to let time heal him. And she feared that he didn't, and that he wouldn't. Everything she knew about her son told her that he would want to hold onto every memory he had of Rayne until the end of forever.

"I'm not ready to leave yet," he said.

She nodded, "I know. I just wanted to tell you that I love you," she said.

"I know, Mom. I love you, too," he said, wrapping his arms around his mother. He hugged her tightly as though he was holding on for dear life.

Some part of him was. When he let go, he realized more than before that he didn't want to be around most of the people who were there, even though they were his friends and family. He quietly made his way upstairs and stopped outside Rayne's bedroom, staring at the closed door. He knew that it looked exactly as it had the last time he was in it, only a little more than a week before, but it would never be the same.

Slowly, he turned the knob and pushed open the door and looked around. The walls were still covered in bookshelves and pictures of her friends and family, with one wall dedicated to posters of her favorite bands and movies. Her collection of teddy bears was displayed in one corner of her room, with her favorite, a gift from Alex when she turned sixteen, on her bed.

He sat and picked up the gray bear and fingered the purple bow tie for a moment until his eyes fell on a picture of the two of them. People were always surprised to find out that they were not dating, though Alex had wanted to. Rayne always kept him at an arm's length in that regard. He never held it against her; he loved her too much.

Fresh tears poured from his eyes as he recalled the day the picture was taken. It was six months prior, and they were celebrating her new job, the beginning of her career that she had been working toward since they were in high school. One of the many traits she possessed that he had admired about her was her determination, her ambition. When she decided she wanted something, she set her mind to it and worked hard for it. And she was the person most deserving of everything she got.

Except her death.

Alex laid on the bed and continued to stare at the picture, tears falling onto the pillow underneath his head. Before long, it was soaked and he clutched the bear tightly, his body curled into a tight ball. And he mumbled over and over to himself, "Why her?"