Plastic Flowers Six Feet Under.
Fanfic.
Alone, the fragile frame of the 20-something year old boy sat, cross legged, knee-caps protruding awkwardly from underneath his jeans. His voice was airy, but rough. It cut the cool air like a knife.
“Three words. That’s all it took. That’s all it took for the infinite buildings I’d built between you and I to come crumbling to their completion. Three words. That’s all it took for my empire to become fraught with despair. “I love you”. Most insignificant empty words ever fucking said. If I had had my own way, things would have never gone this far. You would be you, I would be me, and we would be happily separate, together. Real happy. Our fates wouldn’t have tangled, and danced to the tune of your death. I don’t know why you couldn’t just leave. You could have walked away from it all. But you stayed, no matter how badly I treated you. I treated you like the dirt on the bottom of my shoe. I could see that. Why couldn’t you? I mean, all you had to do was look in the mirror and see the bruises and calluses. All you had to do was touch the fresh cut’s weeping on your arm and you’d know.” he ghosted his fingertips over his forearm and shuddered involuntarily.“I know what you’re thinking. You think I’m foolish for coming here and talking to you. You’re nothing but a cold headstone surrounded by cheap plastic flowers. Well maybe I am foolish. Maybe I’m crazy.
You kept trying to tell me you were getting better. You couldn’t hide from me. How many times did you go to the liquor store? How many early visits to the doctor did we make, because you hadn’t woken up that morning? Personally, I’m never going to touch the stuff. Nasty stuff. It turns people into monsters. It turned you into a monster.” He coughed, and adjusted his glasses.
“I don’t care anymore, what we did or didn’t do to get away from it all. It’s over now, right? I’m glad. I don’t have to slink up to my bedroom every day, to escape the sounds of you throwing up, or having screaming matches with yourself. Surprising that you only had the police called twice. I could hear you at it from all the way up the other end of the street. We didn’t live in the best part of town, so I suppose they were used to it. We were better than the $50 a week housing that the government offered us. Apparently leaving home at 17 is a bad idea. I don’t care. For all the money we had I may as well have been living on the streets. I would have been safer there. Safer from you. Safer from myself. We are better than that. You destroyed your own life, Gerard. And I know you were paying for it, but what about me? Why didn’t you ever hear me screaming? You didn’t sleep easily. Why didn’t you stop it? Were my screams not loud enough?! Was my pain just not as bad as your’s?” His voice choked, tears turning his vision to black. Sob’s shook his body to the bone.
“Did you notice I stopped screaming after a while? Did you wonder why? You never came. But inside I just screamed louder and louder, even though to you I know it was fainter and fainter.” He sniffled, and regained his composure.
“Well, I guess karma has a funny way of behaving hey? I mean, here I am, getting on with it, and there you are, 6 feet under. God, I want to forgive you, I want to be able to hold you again, and tell you that it’s okay, and whisper that horrid sentence in your ears. I wanted to fix things. You were getting better. It had gone away. Everything was alright. You are so selfish. Taking your life is a sin. I’m pretty sure there’s no place in heaven for people like you. Hopefully God will miraculously decide to let you become an Angel or something. Hopefully then you’ll realise what you’ve done. Then again, you were always good at turning a blind eye.
“Ironic, isn’t it? That God had denied me the right to see the so called magnificent universe he had created, but given you the luxury of ignoring it. You had beautiful eyes, what I could make out of them. Thoughtful, deep. In your eyes was the only place I felt safe. Then they became hollow and cold. I think you pushing me away towards the end was part of you plan – I mean, you did plan this, right? You didn’t just wake up one morning and decided that you would go out of your way to further destroy the mediocrity that already was my life?” He sighed, heavy, closing his eyes for a minute.
“It doesn’t matter. Talking to you is like talking to a brick wall. No. It’s like talking to your dead brother, whispering your secrets to a plot of land owned by his decaying corpse. It’s getting dark. If you squint your eyes tight enough in this light you can vaguely see old scars. Don’t worry; there’ll be no new ones anytime soon. The ward has me wrapped in cotton wool. I have to eat my meals with plastic cutlery just in case. I don’t mind, it’s nice to have home cooked meals prepared for you each night. Speaking of which, it’s close to dinner time. I’ll have to get back soon, I don’t want to be late – break the rules. I like the boundaries they impose, even if it is because the whole team of psychiatrists thinks I’m suicidal. I’m not though. I’ll never be like you. I sought help. It doesn’t bother me that I have to live at that God-forsaken nut house. I kind of like it there. I feel safe for once.” He stood up, and pressed his soft lips to the scratchy concrete headstone.
"Goodnight, Gerard. Sweet dreams."
“Three words. That’s all it took. That’s all it took for the infinite buildings I’d built between you and I to come crumbling to their completion. Three words. That’s all it took for my empire to become fraught with despair. “I love you”. Most insignificant empty words ever fucking said. If I had had my own way, things would have never gone this far. You would be you, I would be me, and we would be happily separate, together. Real happy. Our fates wouldn’t have tangled, and danced to the tune of your death. I don’t know why you couldn’t just leave. You could have walked away from it all. But you stayed, no matter how badly I treated you. I treated you like the dirt on the bottom of my shoe. I could see that. Why couldn’t you? I mean, all you had to do was look in the mirror and see the bruises and calluses. All you had to do was touch the fresh cut’s weeping on your arm and you’d know.” he ghosted his fingertips over his forearm and shuddered involuntarily.“I know what you’re thinking. You think I’m foolish for coming here and talking to you. You’re nothing but a cold headstone surrounded by cheap plastic flowers. Well maybe I am foolish. Maybe I’m crazy.
You kept trying to tell me you were getting better. You couldn’t hide from me. How many times did you go to the liquor store? How many early visits to the doctor did we make, because you hadn’t woken up that morning? Personally, I’m never going to touch the stuff. Nasty stuff. It turns people into monsters. It turned you into a monster.” He coughed, and adjusted his glasses.
“I don’t care anymore, what we did or didn’t do to get away from it all. It’s over now, right? I’m glad. I don’t have to slink up to my bedroom every day, to escape the sounds of you throwing up, or having screaming matches with yourself. Surprising that you only had the police called twice. I could hear you at it from all the way up the other end of the street. We didn’t live in the best part of town, so I suppose they were used to it. We were better than the $50 a week housing that the government offered us. Apparently leaving home at 17 is a bad idea. I don’t care. For all the money we had I may as well have been living on the streets. I would have been safer there. Safer from you. Safer from myself. We are better than that. You destroyed your own life, Gerard. And I know you were paying for it, but what about me? Why didn’t you ever hear me screaming? You didn’t sleep easily. Why didn’t you stop it? Were my screams not loud enough?! Was my pain just not as bad as your’s?” His voice choked, tears turning his vision to black. Sob’s shook his body to the bone.
“Did you notice I stopped screaming after a while? Did you wonder why? You never came. But inside I just screamed louder and louder, even though to you I know it was fainter and fainter.” He sniffled, and regained his composure.
“Well, I guess karma has a funny way of behaving hey? I mean, here I am, getting on with it, and there you are, 6 feet under. God, I want to forgive you, I want to be able to hold you again, and tell you that it’s okay, and whisper that horrid sentence in your ears. I wanted to fix things. You were getting better. It had gone away. Everything was alright. You are so selfish. Taking your life is a sin. I’m pretty sure there’s no place in heaven for people like you. Hopefully God will miraculously decide to let you become an Angel or something. Hopefully then you’ll realise what you’ve done. Then again, you were always good at turning a blind eye.
“Ironic, isn’t it? That God had denied me the right to see the so called magnificent universe he had created, but given you the luxury of ignoring it. You had beautiful eyes, what I could make out of them. Thoughtful, deep. In your eyes was the only place I felt safe. Then they became hollow and cold. I think you pushing me away towards the end was part of you plan – I mean, you did plan this, right? You didn’t just wake up one morning and decided that you would go out of your way to further destroy the mediocrity that already was my life?” He sighed, heavy, closing his eyes for a minute.
“It doesn’t matter. Talking to you is like talking to a brick wall. No. It’s like talking to your dead brother, whispering your secrets to a plot of land owned by his decaying corpse. It’s getting dark. If you squint your eyes tight enough in this light you can vaguely see old scars. Don’t worry; there’ll be no new ones anytime soon. The ward has me wrapped in cotton wool. I have to eat my meals with plastic cutlery just in case. I don’t mind, it’s nice to have home cooked meals prepared for you each night. Speaking of which, it’s close to dinner time. I’ll have to get back soon, I don’t want to be late – break the rules. I like the boundaries they impose, even if it is because the whole team of psychiatrists thinks I’m suicidal. I’m not though. I’ll never be like you. I sought help. It doesn’t bother me that I have to live at that God-forsaken nut house. I kind of like it there. I feel safe for once.” He stood up, and pressed his soft lips to the scratchy concrete headstone.
"Goodnight, Gerard. Sweet dreams."
♠ ♠ ♠
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