Within My Bedroom Walls

Each Tear

April 21, 2013 8:14 AM

I haven't read anything so sad as I did just now. His death--Connor's, it sounds horrible. Life seems unfair now, but when is it not? Just because he came to a construction site, he dies. It used to be his favorite spot, favorite area. But one step and he goes down, down to his death. Why? Has God cursed him after all? It is cruel, to watch life goes by, as you stay the same, invisible. 

Connor claims that he is dead, but I don't think he is. Maybe he has a chance to relive. You don't give up midway. I can feel his pulse, pounding slowly and effortlessly against my fingers as he sleeps now. His faint breath, I can hear it. He's not dead, just lost. He just needs to find himself, find his kind.

I can't believe I'm taking so much in, especially within the time period of two days. But then again, I haven't really believed anything. I don't believe in things I don't see. And I see Connor, so I believe in Connor. This sounds cheesy... 

Taking my hand away from his, I walk over to my book shelf, but it's not full of books at all. It's full of art supplies, some books, and all my other crap. And I grab one of my old sketch books, and took the courage to look at my old, ugly drawings I had drawn years ago. I found the picture he had drawn too. 

It was in light blue, like he had said, and it was my favorite and still is my favorite color. He drew me in my pig tails, a hair style I was stupidly obsessed with but had gotten over a long time ago. My eyes looked uneven, though it was probably because of the huge smile I had on. I remember now, the stranger who had appeared in my bedroom. He looked sort of dreamy. He had been nice enough to draw me when nobody else would care to look. It was a sad day for me though, when he had left.

And then an idea comes to my head.

I quickly grabbed the sketch book I am now currently drawing in, and turned to a new page. I got my drawing pencil and began to sketch, sketch him. He laid still on my bed, hugging my pillow and burying his face in it. He sort of looked like an angel.

About Two Hours Later...

I had gotten dress and  Connor had just woken up, but unlike me, his hair wasn't in a bunch and his breath actually smelled good. Well, not that I could smell it or anything, but still. He looked clean. When I came back from the bathroom, I once again saw Connor going through my sketch book, and when he saw the most recent one, his lips broke into a smile. 

"You like it?" I asked, smiling myself.

"Well, where did you get this handsome lad to pose for you?" He turns to me with amusement in his tone.

I rolled my eyes. "Oh, you know, he was looking for a place to sleep so I..." his eyebrows rose with a slight smirk on his lips. And with that, I burst out laughing. "God, that was funny."

He rolled his eyes and closed my sketch book. Putting it back on the shelf, he asked, "So, why did you draw me while I was happily engaged in my sleep?" Connor crosses his arms in the most motherly pose.

"You looked so peaceful, and... nice," I replied in a whisper. "And if I may add, kind of beautiful."

Connor flips his hair. "I know, right? Who can resist this?" he jokes with a smirk. And I went back to laughing again.

15 Minutes After That... 

"What you doing?" I asked as he holds my hand.

"Sh..." he shushes, and I do as he said. "I want to try something." He closes his eyes and we stand there, in the middle of my room, in silence. I had no idea what he was doing. When he open his brown eyes, there was no expression in his face. He pulled me towards my door, and just kept walking.