apocalypse, the answer

17.

BLUE

i laid in the bed every day since he told me the truth. he kept saying to me: "don't feel bad, it's normal and i get it."

i don't think he really got it at all actually. eli didn't cry every night. eli didn't even switch moods as fast as i did. at first i viewed him as the crazy one, the abnormal one...the strange one.

all along it was me.

i fell into a deep depression. and nothing felt like it felt before. i wasn't a scientist anymore. i wasn't anybody.

the blankets were pulled off of my cold body. i was still in my grandmas room. "hey, you need to eat," he said softly. i didn't respond. he sighed and put the blanket back on top of me.

he left the room and i turned around as he did. he usually fought with me. all week i had been laying here, staring at the windows slowly covering with snow piles. we were getting colder. too cold. i shivered under all the blankets we had still.

the only thing i told eli after he told me what happened was that he didn't have to touch me ever again. not even to save my life because...

"i want to die," i said again. my soul was blue. and no matter how many times i said it, he would leave and come back again with some sort of food and sit on the bed and eat while i stared at my portion and did nothing.

he would smile a lot more now. he was trying to cheer me up i think. he wouldn't joke or be mean to me anymore. he was a different person and unfortunately so was i.

"i got some canned soup," he said coming back with a bowl. he had a lighter he would use to set charcoal on fire in the basement to heat things. we tried to not eat hot food a lot to stay warm. but today i could see it was hot.

"i want to die," i mumbled.

he sat on the bed and pushed a tray with the soup over to me. "even if you don't eat it. please warm your hands because i can't," he sighed. i finally met his eyes. he looked stressed and his hair was in every which direction. "please," he said lowly, but i could tell he was serious.

i moved my shaky hands from the blanket and he smiled, letting out a small gasp. "good that's good," he laughed. he was being weird. i didn't lose my gaze with him as i cupped the bowl, shivering.

he had tears in his eyes when he smiled. i opened my mouth to speak and he covered his mouth with his hand, like he was holding back something. "you can't die, you know that?" he said shakily, and then he stood up quickly.

he started to pace the room. i stared at him blankly. all i could think about was dying. giving up. there is no answer. our trip was pointless. we were two strangers clinging on to each other for no reason at all. it would never work in the real world. he would never pick me. he would pick the girl tattooed on his chest. she was probably a woman like fire, like he likes.

i was blue. i was too sad for anyone. even too sad for myself. everyone knew that. that's why they let me go.

he started to sob out of nowhere as he paced. he was breathing in gasps and he kept raising his hands to his head.

i could barely even keep my eyes open.

what was the point anyways?