The World We Made

Chapter 7

"Do you hate me?" I asked him, standing on the edge of the wall.

Blake was hard to read. You would have to know his whole life story to be able to understand him. Maybe that's why I couldn't tell if he hated me or not. The way he looked at me, it was like he wanted to hate me. But he couldn't, maybe he pitied me, my soul was easy to pity.

"I hate myself more for letting you destroy my everything like it was nothing. The day that friend of yours committed suicide, I should've stopped you. I should've told you not to go any further. I saw you crying and banging down the door afterwards. But I chose not to do anything. It's my fault it ended like this."

I hated that he blamed himself instead of me. It made the guilt sink in further until it hit the bottom of the ocean, stuck in the sand until it rotted.

"I'm sorry."

"What are you sorry for?" he asked. "It's my fault." He repeated.

Blake confused me, one second it was all my fault the next it was his. Why couldn't he just let the pain and regret destroy me? "Let me take the blame. Please." I thought.

"Why are you so contradicting?" I asked. "Why do you blame me and then blame yourself?"

Blake stared at the ground, tapping his foot in a rhythmic pace. "Because the guilt would destroy you, but it wouldn't destroy me. Stuff like this doesn't kill me, it's all too normal."

My face softened, all Blake ever did was try to protect everyone. He held so much inside him, so many secrets, so many emotions.

"Am I a bad person?" I asked.

"In this world yes, but the world needed someone like you a few decades ago. Before the war and destruction, the world needed someone that would sacrifice everything to save their friends and family. The times are at fault here. The times made you a bad person."

"The times..." I scoffed. "Say it. Say that I'm a bad person."

"No, why would..."

"Say it!" I screamed. "I destroyed everything you ever knew! I killed everyone you ever cared about! What good is there in me?"

"I told you. You have a good heart, and you are a good person too. But you aren't fit for this world. Following your morals will get you killed here."

"Then why are you stopping me?" I asked as I took a slight step further off the edge. "If I'm not fit for the world we made. Why are you stopping me?"

Blake's eyes met mine. I lost myself in his deep, dark, soulless eyes. It was only up close that you could see the pain in them. The pleading for everything to just stop, for all the pain and burden to just disappear. That's when I realized that Blake had always been on the edge of a cliff, hanging on by a thread. That's what he wanted me to see. He wanted me to see how close he was to collapsing. How he was fighting every urge to join me.

"If I stepped up there with you..." he began. "would you stop me?"

Whatever I said right now, whatever came out of my mouth would determine his future. But instead, I said nothing. I just stepped off with edge, my eyes still connected with his and wrapped my arms around his waist. I heard him sniffle but soon enough, he hugged me back, tears landing on my shirt.

Blake was supposed to hate me. He was supposed to never see me again. He was supposed to want me to jump. But here he was, holding onto me as he finally burst. The bottle had erupted, all the regrets, all the tears, all the pain was finally being let loose. He had finally shown his vulnerable state.

"Do you want to keep going?" I asked, giving no context but he knew what I meant.

"Let's stay like this for a bit..." he whispered. "please."

He was begging for my comfort. He was begging for me, for anyone to stay with him, just once. We were both broken vases on the floor ready to swept away, the only difference was that someone knocked over Blake while I knocked over myself.

"Why did you keep going all this time?" I asked, wiping away Blake's tears.

"People needed me." He whispered. "The slaves needed a leader so I stayed. People who tried to jump needed someone to comfort them, so I stayed."

"You lived for other people?"

Blake nodded in despair. "I regret it. I regret living to make other people happy. I hate that I thought that was my only purpose."

"What are you going to do now?" I asked.

Blake shrugged. "I don't know, Cassidy. I don't think I ever knew what I was going to do."

"Should we?"

It was almost as if our minds were intertwined. I gave zero context to what I said but we both know what I meant. But neither of us wanted to utter those very words out loud, we couldn't bring ourselves to do it.

"I don't want you to end up like me."

But the reality was that I had already ended up like him. Broken, confused and stuck. We didn't know what to do, we didn't know where to go. There were no directions out of this, there were no signs leading to the light.

"Blake... should we?"

"If there was another option, I don't think we'd be asking the question right now."

I stared at the ground when he said those very words. I lifted my hand to find his, our fingers entangled. His palms warmed mine in the freezing night. I closed my eyes as I stepped onto the edge with Blake following me. I opened my eyes to the endless dark void below me. I couldn't see the ground from up here, I didn't know if that was a good or bad thing.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

But he didn't answer me. He just stared at the void below us. Did he even hear me say anything?

"I'm ready." Blake whispered. "Together?"

I smiled at him and nodded. "Together."

"In our next life, when the times are better, find me. Maybe even save me all over again." Blake said.

I smiled at him. "I will. But in this life, right now. Let the times be our evil."

I stared into Blake's eyes one last time. But this time, they were full of hope and happiness. I didn't remember who closed their eyes first. I just remember still clutching onto Blake's hand and jumping gleefully.

At first, falling felt like flying. The air brushed against me as a rush of memories swirled in my head. When I was 5, one of the aunts taught me how to braid my hair so it wouldn't get tangled. When I was 8, 2 of the teenage boys got in a fight and one of them broke their arm. They ended up crying while apologizing to each other. When I was 13, I helped a woman give birth. I was one of the first people to hold her baby. When I was 16, I got to see the outside world. And I met someone that I would end up dying with. "In our next life..." I thought. "when the times are better, I will find you."