Explosion of Colors

Moth Gray

Leo's haunting nightmares had finally merged with the sight of Gulf, pale and motionless in the hospital bed. The combination created a terrifying tapestry of fear that played out every night, accompanied by the relentless beeping of the heart monitor.

On the third day, Leo woke up abruptly, the sound of the beeping still echoing in his ears. The scent of saltwater filled his nostrils, and his heart pounded against his chest. A sickening realization washed over him - he had no idea if Gulf was still alive.

Driven by an overwhelming need to escape, Leo rushed out of the hospital room. He knew he couldn't drive in his current state, so he hailed a cab and headed to the train station. With trembling hands, he purchased a ticket and called his parents from the train. Their surprise and concern were evident, but Leo couldn't find the words to explain. Shock and panic consumed him, rendering him unable to think or speak coherently. He simply informed them of his arrival and ended the call, switching off his phone.

The train ride was agonizing. The crowded carriage only intensified Leo's anxiety. His skin felt hypersensitive, and he couldn't bring himself to meet anyone's gaze. Even the slightest brush against him sent his breath catching in his throat. In a matter of hours, months of progress had been undone, leaving him stranded in the aftermath of Leo's death once again. Only this time, the pain was even more unbearable.

As soon as his mother picked him up from the station, he made a beeline for his childhood home and collapsed onto his old bed upstairs. Exhausted, his body finally succumbed to sleep, and he didn't wake up until nearly eighteen hours later, shivering and feeling terrible.

Feeling a strong aversion to being alone, he slowly descended the stairs. His parents were in the kitchen, preparing dinner, their curiosity evident, but one glance at him made them hold their tongues. He couldn't decide if he would have preferred them yelling at him.

He knew deep down that he had done something terribly wrong, something that had irreparably damaged everything. But he couldn't bring himself to confront it, to think about it.

He mechanically ate something, the taste escaping him, then returned to bed and slept for another eight hours.

He had no idea if Gulf was still alive.

All the emotions he had suppressed and bottled up inside him suddenly burst forth, crashing into him with full force, and a fresh wave of horror washed over him. Gulf might be gone, and he had no clue.

Gulf might be alive, but without Mew by his side.

A part of him, a hidden, fearful part, decided at some point in that dreadful wasteland of shock and numbness that this was the best choice – because the uncertainty of his existence is somehow preferable to the certainty of his absence.

He clenches his fist tightly to stifle the cry that escapes him as he finally comprehends the events of the past two and a half days.

Gulf might be lost.

Whether he knows for sure or not, the pain is just as intense. His body twists and contorts, consumed by the unbearable reality of Gulf's absence. It should be inconceivable, but it's all too real.

If Gulf is alive, he must be suffering and alone, because Mew couldn't bear the thought of facing the consequences, couldn't bear the pain it would bring him, and ran away.

Familiar self-hatred washes over him, but this time it's more intense as he realizes the gravity of his actions and crumbles under the weight of it.

There will be no one to pull him out of this darkness, not this time.

🥊💉🥊💉

The sun beats down relentlessly on him, even though it's still early morning, as he strolls slowly through the imposing black iron gates.