MUTE || Gallavich

Nine: The Bridge

𝘚𝘢𝘷𝘦: 𝘒𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘴𝘢𝘧𝘦 𝘰𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘤𝘶𝘦 (𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨) 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘮 𝘰𝘳 𝘥𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳.
-

I don't like to sleep. It's always the exact moment that I close my eyes and begin to drift away that those pervasive thoughts come and flood my mind. Before, all I thought about was that day..in that room..and what happened to me.

Now, all I can think about is Mickey. He kissed me yesterday—or maybe I kissed him, I'm not completely sure—I just know that as soon as our lips touched, I felt like a different person. I was clean of all my guilt and grief and it was just us. Nothing bad had happened to me.

Nothing bad had happen to him.

I keep thinking about it. The day he first left, I mean. It was a Saturday, the streets were empty, and all the leaves were dead. I didn't see him at school on Friday and I didn't care until I heard sirens. I was at home. Everyone ran out of their houses at the sound of them, but as soon as they left the neighborhood, nobody really cared anymore.

Except for me, I cared. I followed them to the bridge, watching as they pulled out a body. I didn't know that it was Mickey until I heard Mandy cry.

I cried too that day. There weren't any tears but a piece of me left the same time he did, and I don't even know why. We weren't friends, we didn't like each other. Still, for weeks, I thought of him. Foolishly, I hoped to run into him at school. I hoped he would call me an idiot or punch me in the face.

The day I was raped, when I ran out and sat in that alley, I didn't think anything could have stopped what happened. Then, I thought of Mickey. I thought how maybe he could have saved me.

It's too late for that now, I know, but maybe I can save him. Maybe I can.

I get out of bed and run out of the house bare-footed. I run down to the Milkovich house and bang on the door. Mandy opens it and surprise etches her face once she sees me.

"Ian?" She questions.

This is when I notice that I didn't bring my notebook. I can't say anything. My heart is beating out of my chest. I try so hard to force words out but they won't come.

"Are you looking for Mickey? He isn't here, I haven't seen him for days." There's clear distraught in her voice and in her eyes. She was raised to hide her emotions, as all the Milkovich kids were. As most us of were, actually. It was how we were taught to survive. But, sometimes emotions find a way to show.

I take a deep breath. He isn't here, I think. Where is he? Just as this question crosses my mind, I already know the answer. I dread the truth, turning around and sprinting back down the road. I don't stop until I make it to the bridge.

Terrified, I search for him. I walk to the railing and look over, tears blurring my vision. Mickey? I call out in my head. Finally, the tears fall. I back away and try to calm down, but reality weighs me down.

That's when I see something out of the corner of my eye. A shadow climbing on top of the railing, their arms spread out like a bird ready to take flight. It's Mickey.

He doesn't see me and I'm shaking, watching as he lifts one foot up and—"NO!" I cry out. I'm shocked by the sound of my own voice. I barely have time to process anything. I just know that I run toward him, grab him by the wrist and pull him away as soon as he's about to jump.

I fall on top of him, and his head hits the ground. I get up and look at him: He looks just like he's sleeping, but is he?

"M—Mickey.." I talk again. "Mickey, wake up!" I scream at the top of my lungs, pulling at the collar of his shirt. Words pour out faster than the tears do. "I saved you, wake up! Get up!" I can't breath. I can't even talk anymore.

I lay my head on his chest and sob. But, I saved him, right? I made it in time.

-

Ian: I saved him.