The Shattered Flame

Old Friends

Danny's P.O.V.

Grey, everything around me seems to have lost it's beautiful color and turned into grey. Empty grey. They sky has gone grey, and all the days seems to cry. The clouds feel my pain, while the sky witnesses my sorrow. The temperature, even though it should be getting warmer, has only seemed to drop. Yet, I continue to sit at the open window, staring out towards the hospital. My mind has gone pain strikingly numb. The only think I feel my mind, lost in a blank space. My world has turned into a box, filled with the color grey, the cold, and my thoughts.

Thoughts, those are what are driving me insane. Even though people like my father tell me it was not my fault, I know it is. Chester is dyeing because of me. He is trapped in some space, god knows were. For all I know he could be having the time of his life. Maybe he found his mom, maybe he is happy. Maybe he was supposed to die all along. I was never supposed to change the way I lived. He was meant to tumble off that bridge into the freezing water, where he would later see his mother. Miles would happily live with the feeling that he got Chester to kill himself. I would later become all I believed I wanted. Yet, one action of getting Chester off that bridge has my mind changing. I don't want anything I thought I did. Now...now I just want Chester to wake up.

I want to see his night sky hair brighten his sky blue eyes. That smile, that illuminates the room, even when he is just smirks. I miss his warms, how he always felt like a flame when he was with me. I miss him. All of him. I miss his mind and his soul. The words he would tell me when I was crying. The feeling of his body holding my shattered heart. He tried to put everything back into place. He tried to heal my heart from the outside. He did not even know what he was healing me from. He never knew what happened. Chester still wanted to pick up my pieces, even if he would cut himself along the way, but he never knew why he needed to. Why did he want to help so much? I have never seen someone what to help so much.

Sighing, I looked over to my creaking door. Quietly my dad walked in. "Onion..." He said quietly. Slowly I looked out the window, not wanting to answer. Not wanting to talk. "I brought someone by to talk to you. Can you come downstairs?"

I looked to him. Slowly I shook my head. "I don't want to talk to anyone." I said at a whisper.

"Danny, you need to talk to someone, go down stairs and talk to her." He said sternly.

"I don't want to talk to anyone." I repeated.

"Lila Shaw, get your ass down stairs, or your mother and I will start sending you to that therapist again." Dad said angrily.

I turned to him, shocked that he said my name. "You haven't called me anything other than Onion, since Daniel died and I wanted his name." I said in awe.

Dad whipped his mouth. "Will you just go talk to her?" He asked. Slowly I stood up from the window and walked over to him. I looked him in the eyes and I could see it hurt him to say my name. Its been four years. No one has called me Lila, other than the therapist, in years. That name brought back memories for me, memories I didn't want to have. Once I didn't want to remember. Slowly I walked past dad and began to go down the stairs. Once I got down the stairs I turned left to look into the living room. Seeing no one I rolled my eyes and turned back up the steps. "She's in the kitchen." Dad said putting his hand on my shoulder and turning me around. Again I rolled my eyes as dad pushed me into the kitchen.

Quickly I saw her. Her dark redwood hair waving perfectly, like it always did. While her dark ringed golden eyes smiled. There she sat. In a fated black seat, with metal wheels. Quickly I turned around, as my dad out stretched his arms, blocking me from the door. "No," I said quickly trying get around my dad.

"Listen to what she has to say." He said wrapping his arms around me and picking me up.

"Dad, seriously, this isn't funny. No," I said again.