Revive (Book Two)

Chapter 28: Colson

Colson Isaacs.

It was a name that shouldn't be sprawled out on a cement block for glancing strangers who were just passing through. It was sacred, pure.

I stared face to face down at the tombstone in front of me, smacked with reality that the dorky boy I once knew, was not successful in life as he was supposed to be. Instead, his body lied under the earth right below my feet.

I pushed my shaking fingers forward and slowly glazed them across the writing on the block, skin met with wet mildew built up from the air. His parents truly loved him and it was evident in the amount of money they spent on the tomb. It was made of thick granite while the writing on it was made of bronze.

The sweetest boy to walk this earth
May God take care of you until we meet again
And bless you with the strength to always smile
Down on us.
Colson Issacs
February 1992-May 2009

He was only seventeen.

I sniffled, getting a new sensation of residue cocaine in my nostrils from the line I took only moments before. I blew out a large breath at the sight of his grave, watching as my puff met the crisper air and trail down the cemetery.

Defeated, I let my knees buckle and I fell back onto his grave right in front of the tombstone. I sat beside him even though he wasn't actually here.

"Hey Twiggy," I mumbled quietly aloud. I sat there for a moment, unsure of what I was doing. Pulling out a stick from my pocket, I lit a cigarette. "I suppose you can't give me hell about smoking these anymore," I muttered while exhaling grey.

I leaned against the tombstone, almost imagining that it was him I was leaning against and he was right here with me, distracting me from my father just like he used to always do.

When I was met by silence from my comment, a ping of hurt struck my heart.

Fuck.

I'd like to think he was sitting beside me, talking to me even though I couldn't hear him. I'd like to think he was telling me about his afterlife and everything he's been able to do since he passed on. I'd hope he'd tell me that he was finally happy, the king of his own land and he hasn't experienced any pain since his death, nor is he anything but happy.

However, I believed that once you died, you were dead. There was no heaven, no God, no afterlife. Once you stop beating, you've officially turned into nothing but a memory.

What a good memory he was.

"Never thought I'd come back to this shitty town," I mumbled. "I was finally free. Free but I left you behind, Twig, and fuck, am I ever sorry..." I inhaled another shaky breath of my cancer stick before exhaling slowly. "You woulda' gone far in life, kid. Not me, if you saw who I turned out to be... It should be me in the ground. Not you."

I blew smoke from the corner of my mouth, out of the secluded, dingy bathroom window and side eyed he who was looking at a large book.

"That stuffs gonna kill you," Twig commented without looking up.

I smirked and inhaled a large breath. "What're you reading bout now?" I inquired, but he didn't respond. Instead, he took out a highlighter and highlighted the text. "Or I can just go fuck myself," I chuckled. "C'mon Twig, it brings the anxiety down," I persisted.

When he continued to ignore me, I grumbled and flicked the butt of the cigarette into the toilet. Hopping off the window sill, I marched over to he, who was sitting on the counter where the sinks rested. "Hey now," I warned. I never spoke more than he did.