water droplets //dnf//

storm

You know, in the movies when something like this happens, they always say something felt different. 'Something was off'. But it wasn't.

It was a normal day, one that I expected to be great. I didn't have a moment where something felt wrong. Everything was normal.

But at the same time, that's my point of view; I can't imagine how George was feeling. Nothing was normal to him.

Yeah it hurts. I miss him already. But it's more a sense of emptiness. I don't know how I'll function without George. Without his snarky remarks, without random kiss throughout the day. I don't know if I'll be able to...

But I guess I can try for him.

--

The sounds below me get louder. And at the same time, our door is kicked in. Police, medics, and news reporters flooding the apartment.

The one accurate thing in the movies is that part of it I can't remember. The next hours were a blur.

If I remember one part, it's seeing George's body put in the ambulance. His exposed chest showed all of his scars. So beautiful. 

He lies before my eyes, a lifeless beauty.

I grew used to the tears once I saw him. They didn't stop. I wanted to see him, talk to him, hold his hands. But they didn't let me. Not yet.

--

None of these people know who he is. I know.

He was a perfect man, who wasn't afraid to express himself. And every-time he did, he did it well. Playful and mischievous, but somehow mature. Ive always been so fond of his skill to change emotions.

But they don't see that.

They see a weak man. Who chose the 'easy way' out. But George is anything but weak. I'd even say he's stronger than me. In almost every way.

I see him. Him and his beauty.

I've always saw it. His smile shined through crowds. You could spot him from anywhere, he was so special.

--

I sit in the room. The cold and gray room at the police department. They gave me an uncomfortable chair. I kept shuffling in order to sit comfortably.

I tried to take my mind off of anything but George. But he's the only thing on my mind.

I wonder what they did with him.

Do they have any extra info?

Is he for sure.. gone?

A paper lays in front of me, one of the officers set it down when leading me in here. It was the information they had on George. Past records, basic appearance, all of that.

At quick glance it was normals. Licenses and cards galore. But when looking at the descriptions, you can tell just how much they don't know their victim.

'Eyes: Brown'.. honey eyes with hints of green, really subtle hints of green. Such a deep brown but in the sun, so golden and intricate, you can get lost in them so easily.

'Hair: Brown'.. soft hair, mixes of browns and different curls. After playing with it for a while it becomes a habit. A welcoming field for my hands to tangle and twirl pieces of brown locks.

--

They don't know him.

Did I know him?

If I knew him I would've know how he was feeling. I should've known. Why didn't I know.

--

They ask me questions. Questions I should know the answer too. Maybe I do know the answer. But I can't speak.

I just sit. My mind is moving slowly, but gaining mileage. Everything starting to build up.

George is gone.

--

Fuck. George is fucking gone. I let him leave me. I thought we were all fine.

Fuck. It should've been me. It's my fault. He shouldn't be gone. Fuck.

--

"Clay? You alright?"

The officers in front of the desk stare at me. I wonder how they would react after their partner was gone. Would they answer the questions? Because I surely can't.

--

I want to sit by George. I want to see him.

But I feel like if I did... I'd be mad.

I know that's such a shitty thing, but I know myself. I'd get mad.

I'm not mad he was hurt. But why the fuck didn't he talk to me about it. I don't blame him, I would never. But I can't see him right now.

Despite how much I want to.

--

"Would it help if we gave you a second?"

The words float through my mind. I don't process a single one.

The only thing I can think about it George.

--

It's kind of like after a sad part in a movie.

You see the whole build up. All the before events yet somehow, still don't know.

All movies have the conflict, but we never expect it. It's set up so clear. Yet you can't seem to ever know what it is.

And afterwards, the damage is already done and you can't fix it. Because the movie is set in stone.

I watched him. I was with him. Almost every second of the day, I was there. I missed every clue he must've left.

And now that it's done. I have nothing to do but hope I can get better. Although, how can I be better without him.

--

"Well, we will be back.."

--

The rooms empty;

Nothing but my own thoughts.

I feel the build up.

The tears right now are nothing compared to my actual feelings. A mere drop compared to the fountains of hurt.

The image of George's body.

The feeling of the sweater.

The sounds of sirens.

The sight of letters.

All coming together. The storm. It's here.

As my body shakes, my breath stops. My everything, stops. I imagine myself falling like George. The pain he must've felt. It should've been me.

My eyes start to burn and any noise in the silent room stings my ears. The storm is taking over.

Whispers of faint swears and taunts coming out to form subtle words. I can do nothing but sob and shake; swear faintly and think about how I am responsible.

I can do nothing but think. I could've saved you. It should've been me. All for a stupid book.

--

"Clay are yo- shit... Drew get a nurse!"

-

I feel people surrounding me. Clicks and taps and steps and voices and breathing. It all hurts so much.

It all hurts so much...

So much.

The cool blue storm, never fails to bring us down. People jump, fall, trip, but the storm always gets us down somehow.