Nightingale - Dreamnotfound

||The Birds Sing||

Eight years ago, I stood at the top of the apartment building. I found my way up there not to jump, but to view. I got to see where I came from and where I was now. At the time, I had lost everything I ever cared about. My family, my friends, my home, every single bit of familiarity in my life had vanished in a matter of a few hours.

I never thought I'd feel that again. The inescapable tug at your heart knowing you'd never get to see them again. There were so many things left to say. I never got to say thank you for everything he did. I never got a chance to pay him back, and now I never would.

It was supposed to be me and him until the end, but never did we consider the possibility that our endings wouldn't necessarily line up.

Yet I still waited. I sat on the ledge foolishly waiting for the door to open and for him to come and tell me it wasn't real. I knew he wouldn't. I had sat with him for hours after waiting for him to wake up. It wasn't even him anymore. He was gone the moment the gun pierced through his golden heart. But my own mind fought against what I saw. It still chose to believe its own truth over the real one.

My mind became a maze, and I became so lost that I was convinced there was no end. It was like searching for a center that wasn't even there. Lost. Hopeless. Everything I could think of to convince me that I'd be okay had disappeared. I wasn't okay, and I never would be. Lost cause. No way out.

The door clicked open behind me, and I quickly turned around only to find Tommy and Tubbo. Both had brought flashlights that they blinded me with.

"Dream," Tommy said.

"Tommy." I turned back around, gazing down into the dark abyss miles and miles below my feet. They both sat on either side of me. It was silent for a moment. A heavy energy that quickly suffocated me.

"You're right," Tommy abruptly said. "There is so much we don't understand."

"It'll all come with time, guys."

I heard a sniffle from my left. When I glanced at Tubbo, he wiped the tears from his eye. I wrapped my arm over his shoulder and pulled him closer.

"Just cry," I said.

Tommy shook his head. "No, I won't."

Tubbo was a different story. He let go quickly, crying into my shoulder.

"Tommy, talk to me," I said, rubbing Tubbo's arm as I looked up at the blond boy in front of me.

"I don't know what to say."

"Growing up, I never knew what to say either. Don't hold it in, Tommy. It comes back hard."

He kicked his feet. "Well, I don't know."

"How do you feel?"

He shrugged, "Confused. Lost. Scared."

"I do too."

"And," He hesitated for a moment. "Fuckin' pain, man. My chest hurts and I don't know why."

"Because you just lost a close friend, Tommy. It breaks your heart. My chest hurts too. It's a good thing, though."

"How is it a good thing? It fucking stings. I just want it to go away."

"Because it means he successfully fulfilled the whole purpose of living," I replied. "The whole point of living isn't about surviving, it's about the way you treat others. That ache in your chest proves he left something behind. You could say it's him letting you know that even if he isn't physically here anymore, that he's still with you. That's what George would've said."

"Does the pain ever go away?"

I shrugged, "With time it lessens. There will be days you won't even feel it. But it never truly goes away."