I'm dressed in a shadowy black suit, walking to the funeral as the versicolor skies slowly seem to collapse around me. Adorned in my long, black topcoat, I solemnly approach the bed in which the shell of the boy I had once loved lies. He lay there, a crimson water trickling down the once alabaster sheet. I stare at him, that foolish monster, with arid, starless eyes. I lay the daisy bouquet I had brought gently beside his limber hands and torn-apart wrists and veins. That blood, dripping down from his chest and hands onto the tile floor... the wicked, heartless color... angers me.
Watching his face drain color... I am enraged. He betrayed everyone: his family, his friends, his love... me. How is that possible? The one who means the most to me... he's departing from this now caliginous, lifeless world in an act of foolishness and selfishness. How unfortunate... no. How heartless that is.
He was so blind, so in-between the cracks of his confusion and his own desperate delusions and fantasies, and I never acknowledged that he was. I always denied his dysphoria and continued to push him up, only to let him fall apart again. And now, the pitch-black feathers and the daisy petals blanket him and fall into the blood puddles on the floor, soaking up the liquid like sponges. And forthwith, I can feel my teeth clench, my fists tighten, my blood flow faster and faster. Stifling tears and letting my eyes grow bloodred I tighten the grasp of the knife in my coat pocket.
Letting out a shrill cry, I bring the blade up into the air and let it sink through the boy's gut cloaked in the feathers and flower petals. The blankets are now completely soaked and the crimson liquid now flows everywhere, flowing out of that ghost child like a harsh, summer cloudburst. But now, I can feel myself becoming even more and more empty myself, some sort of life and energy inside me being sucked out of me until I am completely dried up. I look down, my face aghast and filled with complete horror. This is... my blood?
I fall to the floor, and I drop the cold blade, watching my own hands become shallow and deathlike with my now crooked, ghostly eyes. As my vision fades away into nothingness, I look up at the hospital bed. I swear... I can see myself smiling. I can feel a single tear trickle down my cheek as everything around me crashes and rips apart my weak and worthless shell. In the hospital bed, I'm staring at the foolish child's shell now fallen on the ground, his wide eyes intently melting into mine.
And now, that shell, that foolish child that needed to cease to exist, grabs both of my torn apart wrists as we choke on the thick dust falling upon us from the ceiling. He smiled and we melted into one broken soul. The last words I hear him say are unable to be heard, but I know that what they meant something...
...and the walls collapse around us, leaving only a small stream of blood flowing beneath the cracks of the now fallen walls of the world.
