Do Not Go Gentle

Chapter 13

{ And when the king was looking down, the jester stole his thorny crown. }
- Unknown

〰〰〰〰

His funeral was six days later. I did not attend. I could not. I could not bear it.

'Dig up the bones and leave the soul alone.'

Is what I had said. But when no one was watching, I went back and said goodbye. It was ugly and rabid... as I had expected. I had no more composure than I did on the day in which I was clinging helplessly to his lifeless body... they day in which Finny had to drag my away from him when the cops arrived. And that is why I did not attend.

I did not attend because everyone still believes him to be a great and courageous man whom sacrificed his life for his master. I did not attend because they are burying him in the Phantomhive cemetery right next to my parents. Because everyone insisted that he should be buried there. The servants begged the undertaker for him to be buried there. They begged the priest who performed said funeral. Yes... they all begged. They begged for a demon to be buried next to Angels. My angels.

I have not come out of my room in days... not spoken a word nor uttered a sound except to Tanaka, whom holds the only un-soiled remnant of Sebastian we have left. I have held the head butler's pin tight in my sweaty hands for endless nights... kissing it... speaking softly to it. I've nearly gone mad with grief and the unfinished business I had with the dead demon I once held dear to me.

One night, I crept silently across the moonlit carpeting of my chamber floor... snaking my way into the cool dark of my washroom. I did not light a candle nor lantern. I simply sat there on the tiled flooring, speaking to the pin as if it were Sebastian himself.

'I miss you.'

I cooed,

'I'm sorry.'

I didn't know why I was apologizing... perhaps it was for the spell I had put him under, or for the way my soul was tantalizing. For the way I tempted him... ordered him around just so he may get his next meal. He literally died for me... for my soul. And neither one of us got what we wanted. And everything was completely out of both of our control.

But it feels like he's the only thing that's ever mattered to me. And I've never felt this way before.. not even when my own parents died. I wonder why our bond was so strong. I wonder if it still is. And perhaps I didn't get the chance to grieve over my parents because I was immediately shoved into a spiraling of chaos and abuse. And maybe every emotion I've ever had is now being expelled because the only thing I had to bury them in was Sebastian.

I still have the gun and bullet I almost fired through my skull. Every night I contemplate doing it again... but then I remember how I felt... how Sebastian saved me... and I never want to feel that way again. And after seeing that man whom was witness to this as a dead corpse lying in front of me... under me... I don't want to know what's on the other side waiting for me. Because before at least there was sanity... feigned sanity. But at least it was there. At least there was consistency and promise in my demise. But now I fear that my punishment will be far more severe than anything I could imagine. I finally fear death. For the first time in my life I fear being crumpled into a mess of broken bones as I fall from an open window. I fear the blood pumping through my veins. I fear pain. I fear pleasure. I fear everything. I fear life and death... and I am simply, and utterly afraid of it all.

And all I want is Sebastian to be back. Every night I have a dream in which he comes sweeping through my bedroom window. And he takes me into his arms... holds me as I cry and tells me it was all a dream... it was all but another cursed insanity of my mind's disturbing resting place. But just before our lips meet... just before he tells me he loves me back... I awake in a cold sweat. And now I fear sleep again... perhaps even more than I did before. Yes... indefinitely more than I did before. Much, much more.

I'm caught between living and dying. I'm still being swept away in that torrent of two or more worlds mixing. And I am still unsure whether I want to forget him or join him. But yet I know I want neither. I just want him here. I want him back. I want him to come home. I want to wake up to the sound of his voice coaxing me out of a dreamless slumber. And though I know how he tormented me so... I now realize that he is the only thing that's ever kept me sane. And I wonder if I am in fact dead. I wonder if I am gone and now in the depths of hell... because that is how it truly feels to me.

〰〰〰〰

I look out at the sun setting behind the line of trees outside the living room window. It has been nearly two months since Sebastian Michaelis' death. The sky is grey with the clouds of late fall, the cold blanket spreading a misty haze over the ground. It looks as though it is about to snow. Every sound I hear suddenly drops from my eardrums as little droplets of rain begin to splatter across the window pane. Everything is so solemn... so still and beautiful. I look for the shape of a tall man in a tailcoat parading the perimeter of forest around the property. I know I will not find him there... among the trees and dewy grass. I will not see his expensive dress shoes shatter those grasses that look as though they are made of glass... made of silk and rain and snow. Of mist and stone and the tears that begin to cascade down my cheeks.

I always weep when it rains. Then, at least I don't cry alone. The lithe sprinklings of crystalline water bombarding the glass in front of me makes me realize how lonely I am; when the music and the voices stop and I am left here, thinking. I am left here thinking about all the times I went wrong... all the times I could've simply said 'I love you' and 'I know I shouldn't'. Then, at least I could let it all go. At least I could admit to something for once in my life.

The rain is pelting harder, now. My eyes are red and swollen with the moisture I've kept hidden for fifteen years of my life... all fifteen years. It may seem a weak number to some, but to me it's a number that seemed like the highest my age would ever climb. But perhaps I'll live to be seventy. Perhaps I will outlive all of the betrayals of life after all. Perhaps I will sink further into destruction. Perhaps the supernovas resting inside my bones and muscles will fade out into oblivion... and I will be left with nothing but an empty space where a heart should be beating and living. Yes... perhaps. Perhaps the love within me will atrophy.

I can both see and hear the wind pushing past everything outside. The clouds move further in and hide the sun completely. Thunder cracks. Lightning strikes a frozen lake somewhere in the distance. A baby is born. Somebody's Mother dies. A couple has just officiated their bond. Somewhere... someone is laughing. A child has just tasted ice cream for the first time, and there are endless people wrapped in endless embraces... being cradled by life's victories.

And yet... here I sit. Alone and tired. Waiting for someone to tell me I'll be alright. Waiting for someone to hold me, too. But I suppose I am someone... I am somewhere, and maybe a someone somewhere is thinking these same thoughts as me; unaware of the pure sadness in the world around them. And maybe they are singing. Maybe they are singing a song. And maybe it isn't a requiem... maybe it isn't a sonnet nor a rhyme. Maybe it is the song one sings when they've finally found something worth living for. I grow saddened even further, because I have forgotten. I have forgotten the words to my song.

But the storm outside has not forgotten its song... and it rages on relentlessly. It sings its icy notes high into the branches of the oak and willow swaying on its breeze. And the rain turns to ice. It's a hailstorm... the kind of hailstorm that makes you want to cover your ears to mask the sound of near sheets of ice hitting you from every angle. But I simply close my eyes and listen closely... because I am trying to mask the sound of all the voices in my head. I sit back. I wait for a break in the wind. It doesn't come. I lose myself to the deafening wailing of wind that so accurately describes my mind at this moment. I lose myself. I lose all thought. I lose all thought... except for one.

Winter is coming.

And maybe they are singing.. I lose myself.

I lose myself.