The Conductor

Thirteen months.

Thirteen months of lies.
Of fear.

Of loneliness.

“You sure have been purchasing a lot of ice lately, Tyler.”
Marissa gave a curious look as she handed me two large bags of said item.

I smiled.

“I’m working on a…big project.”
“You need all of this ice for the marionettes?”
I nodded.

She smiled.

“I better be the first one to see the final product, Tyler.”

“I’ll be sure that will happen.”

| x | x | x |

A dimly lit room.

A zinc and copper battery placed on the floor.

A bathtub, full of ice; A pale, lanky figure resting on top – fresh stitch marks on the left side of the chest.

I knelt down in front of the bathtub, grabbing a hold of the limp, ice cold hand.

“I know that you wouldn’t want this. I know that you would have wanted me to move on…”

I wiped away a tear that was falling.

“…But…I couldn’t. When I said that I wouldn’t live without you, I meant it! and…I wanted to end it…I wanted to end it all, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it! I’m such a coward! And…!”

Inhale. Exhale.

I connected the wires to his head and then to the battery.

“…I really need you here with me again.”

I administered the charge and watched the body tremble and convulse.

“Please, come back…”

I stopped the charge, waiting with a held breath.

“Please come back…!”

No movement.
No breathing.

No heartbeat.

“Please! Please wake up! Don’t do this!”

A moment of silence before I fell to the floor, grabbing onto my hair.

I can’t do this.
I cannot do this anymore!

I stood up and walked over to the desk, opening the drawer and taking out the revolver.
I stared at it for a moment, breathing slowly.

I will not be afraid.
I will not be afraid.

I need to end it. I can’t live like this anymore!

A small click! before I pressed the barrel to my temple.
A finger on the trigger.

“Three…”

I shut my eyes closed.

“Two…”

My hand started to tremble.

“…One—”

A small cough sounded, causing me to drop the weapon in an instant.

I turned around, holding my breath again as I inched my way back towards the bathtub.

A hand out of place.

Chest, slowly rising and falling.

Brown eyes, open and frantically scanning the room.

A huge grin made its way onto my lips as I placed a hand onto his cold cheek.
His eyes met mine – my vision was blurred by my tears, but I could still see him leaning into my touch with a relaxed exhale afterwards.

“Welcome back…Michael.”