Just Breathe (IN EDITING)

Dissapear

Evans P.O.V

The world has stopped spinning and I am not quite sure if my heart has stopped with it. I hear things around me. I hear the shouts and the sirens. They are muffled though, everything is muffled. It is so far away. Someone's arms are wrapped around me, they rub against my skin like paint mixes with water. Drops disrupting the still surface, color mixing with the clear nothingness. They grasp tightly onto me as if I were going to float away. Float away with the numbness which causes my heart to grow sick.

Blues and reds reflect violently against the water which soaks the ground and my face. If in any other context the blues and the reds bouncing off of the rain drenched pavement would be something that flashed across my vision and left me in awe. In any other context I would see the way the lights are so bright the darkness is ripped apart. In any other context my fingers would be twitching to paint the lights, the way they used to before they started twitching for drugs. But this is not any other context, this is here and now. There are firm voices and police sirens, a screaming mother and violent lights, tear soaked t-shirts and touches like paint in water. This is not any other context, and the vision of her flying repeats over and over like a broken tape. The black hair tickling my neck is far away, the blues and reds are only blurs that I can not quite grasp. The world has stopped spinning and I am not sure if my heart has stopped with it.

Footsteps echo loudly and the noise pounds against my chest. Something is draped over me with care, the warmth failing to stop the numbness. I am not shaking because of frigidness dancing through my skin, I am shaking because the earth has been ripped from under me and I have failed to find footing, failed to keep myself upright. There is nothing left to keep me still there is nothing left to to keep me here. Hands hold onto me like a life line, and a desperate voice is amplified through my muffled mind. An ache is apparent in my chest, but my body is unmoving. I believe I am stuck in this distant place where my mind is incapable of doing anything but focus on the way it sounds when a body bag zippers.

I do not hear the broken words whispered into my ear. I do not feel the gentle, despairing touches ghost over my skin as I am pushed into some type of vehicle. I do not register the humming engine or the soft sobs as a person moves next to me. The flashing lights do not fill my vision any longer, and a scream catches in my lungs. Now all I can see is the darkness, all I can see is the way she fell from the bridge with such little disturbance to the world around us, as if she was never even there. As if she never even existed. It keeps playing over and over, and I am afraid it will never stop. I am afraid the world will never start spinning again. I can feel vomit rising in my throat. I do not want to see her outstretched arms or shaking hands, I do not want to see her disappear.

Something clicks beside me, accompanied by ghostly touching tracing up my bitter flesh, causing ripples in my still water with its color. The humming grows louder and the sirens grow farther. They are taking me away. Taking me away from where she disappeared, from where I couldn't save her. I couldn't save her. I can feel tear drops splash against my shoulder, drowning me. Cold fingertips wipe wetness from my cheeks and tangle themselves into my still hands. My lungs sting from the sobs which I hadn't noticed were leaving my throat until I was told everything would be alright. I am far away, and the world has stopped spinning. Nothing will be alright ever again.

***

The church is very dark. The light is failing to shine brightly through the colorful windows in the colorless air. Dim electric bulbs hang from cracked chandeliers and cast light over weeping faces. I must admit it does not feel fitting. All she ever did in life was love people. She radiated the brightness that has been drained from the world. Every time she smiled light poured from her eyes and her heart. She treated everyone like they mattered, treated everyone like their happiness was the most precious thing in existance. Everyone but herself that is. So now that we are sat here in the dust pews, with death lingering on our fingertips, it does not feel correct. She deserves light, she deserves the happiness and joy she always gifted to others. She deserves to be alive.