Drunk or Sober

Miracles

They were in the last, most farthest room at the end of the hallway, probably holding an emergency group therapy session.

I pressed my ears against the foggy window of the room, and all I could hear was the faint screaming and crying of Rosie. I felt a pit grow in my stomach.

Something pushed me to knock on the door and join in, but this wasn't the right time.

Then again, is there ever a right time to comfort someone after a death?

How was I supposed to know when Harleigh was ready to talk? What was I supposed to tell Rosie?

I sat down on the floor outside of the room.

"Wes, honey, what are you doing out here?" Ms. Kat asked, taking a seat on the floor next to me. Her eyes were red and puffy, most likely from crying.

"Harleigh... She..."

"She told you, didn't she?" She pulled out a tissue and dabbed it at her eyes. "Wyatt-"

"Why'd it have to be him? He never hurt anybody. I don't-"

"You're in a garden; which flower are you going to pick?"

"What?" I hesitated.

"What flower would you pick?"

"I don't know- the prettiest one? The-"

"Don't you see, Wes?"

"See what?"

"That's exactly what happened." She gave me a tissue. I didn't even notice the tears that swelled in my eyes. "God took Wyatt- the most beautiful, deserving, innocent little flower in the-"

"I began questioning my faith all too long ago." I admitted.

"You don't need faith to know he's happy now. He really is; and he's free, he's... Everyone dies. It's a side-effect of living. Wyatt just... He used his exit ticket early. But that doesn't mean his life was any less lived."

"Hey, uh, do you guys know where everyone is? And there's like literal police-" I turned my head to reveal a pair of dull grey eyes, the same dull grey that was painted on the face of the blonde boy who ate too many blueberry pancakes and was filled with a dark sense of humor.

I blinked hard. It couldn't be... "Wyatt?" I rubbed my eyes. Ms. Kat rose and squeezed Wyatt into a hug.

"Wyatt? Wyatt, how?" She broke down.

"Isn't he like... dead?"

"Dead? Dead? You sneak out one night and people just assume you've died." He laughed. "I'm sadly still alive, guys, sorry to disappoint. Where is everyone?"

"No, wait, Wyatt, everyone-"

"Sweetie, we thought you jumped out of the window!" Ms. Kat screamed, signing the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit with her hands.

He ignored us and cupped his hands against the door to see inside. "Why are they in there?" He asked us while banging his fists on it.

"They think you're-"

The door swung open nearly hitting me. Out came Rosie, in a delirious state as well. Her face was red and her eyes were, well, like Ms. Kat's.

"What happened to you?" Wyatt questioned, taking a closer look at Rosie in the doorway.

"What the fuck?" Rosie mumbled in her stuffy voice, rubbing her eyes. Next thing I knew, Wyatt was on the ground laying next to me, with Rosie sitting on top of him. She was angry. "YOU FUCKING HAD ME THINKING YOU WERE DEAD. YOU- HOW ARE YOU EVEN ALIVE?" She slapped his chest with her palms and shook his shoulders. Isaac quickly grabbed her off of him.

Wyatt cupped his cheeks, a single red palm mark from Rosie captured on the left. "What was that for?" Rosie started crying again, and Isaac just held her. Everyone else stood around in shock. "What?" He asked again in a tiny, innocent voice.

"You- you- you jumped... out of... the window." Harleigh stared at him and stated.

"I heard he fell off the roof." Another voice said.

"No, that he jumped off the roof, guys!" Someone else corrected.

Ms. Kat grabbed Wyatt's hand. "Wh-Where were you, Wyatt?"

"Not lying dead at the bottom of the building?" He narrowed his eyebrows in a confused daze.

"Then who the hell is?" Rosie demanded, brushing Isaac's arms off of her waist. Wyatt shrugged his shoulders.

A female doctor raced down the hallway toward us, clipboards and papers in her hand. "The patient! The one who jumped; That isn't Wyatt Summers!" She shouted. When she got closer, everyone continued their focused stare on Wyatt. "Oh. You guys... You already figured that one out. Some idiot threw down one of the dummies from the training unit off of the roof. Blood and all... but no real body. Of course, only everyday civilians and ignorant officers working the earliest of hours would mistake a doll from a person." She forced a laugh. "You're okay though, for real, right?" She gestured to us. "You're all okay, right?"

"I would if I could get some sleep." Wyatt yawned.

//I know I may get hate from this chapter but I couldn't just murder the adorable spirit that is wyatt im not strong enough PLS

bet you thought he plunged into concrete

he didn't

never
never

NEVER