Clouds To Mask The Ground {J.H.S}

~~~14~~~

When I was 26 I read the notebook. The same notebook you wrote in day in and day out. The same notebook you kept from me. The same notebook that I found open on your desk the day that you hung from our ceiling fan.

~

I sat in the same cafe chair and I opened the notebook slowly. Endless pages of what you felt lay in the notebook. All of your daily thoughts lay in my hands. I turn to the first page. The notebook was dedicated to me. 

Page after page of writing about how you were sorry, about your internal conflicts, about how you "didn't want to go back". I took a deep breath as I turned to the last page. The date on the top of the page was your death date.

"I came down as you asked. I fell down from the clouds, but hitting the Earth is what killed me." This was the only line that was written.

I drug my feet against the side walk as I walked home. After two years I still resided in the same house because no one would take it. No one wanted a house that a person, a real human with thoughts and emotions, had died in.

The sun had started to set and you could already see the moon beginning to rise. A cold wind had started to set in as clouds also closed in. I walked into the house. The air seemed heavy and the noises of the house settling were especially unnerving. I pushed my shoes to the side and didn't hesitate to go to bed. 

I had shoved the notebook in a drawer and then threw myself onto the bed. I didn't bother to put sheets over me, but I also hadn't bothered to change my clothes either.

I saw you in my dreams. My head was filled with you. You hung in front of me. A dark forest wrapped all around us. I couldn't see past the first row of trees and the scene was illuminated by only the moon. Your hair was completely tangled, nails over grown, even maggots nested in your mouth and nose. Your skin was decaying, but what had been untouched was pale and your face was blue with lack of oxygen. I ran to you, reaching to get you down as fast as possible, but as I reached out you grabbed my wrist.

"Happy without me, right?" You'd yell and a few maggots would fall. "Thank god you got rid of me!"

I tried to pull away from you.

"Too scared to face what you caused?" I maggot flew from your mouth, landing on my face. 

I opened my mouth to scream, but you grabbed my neck with your other hand. You pulled me up to eye level as I struggled to touch the ground. My mouth hung open trying to inhale.

"Isn't this fun?" You yelled even louder than before and out let out a laugh. 

I gasped for air as I sat up in bed. I looked at our desk and there your notebook lay, open. I grabbed it, heading for the front door. I slipped on shoes and took off.

I pounded on the door to your parents home. Your mother opened the door, confused and only half awake.

"Here." I shoved the notebook into her arms. "I can't do it. The blame is on me. I did it. He's dead because of me. I wasn't there when I should've been. I should have checked on him if I thought he was sleeping. It should've been me." I cried to her. I fell to my knees in front to her as I mumbled incoherent sentences.

She kneeled down to my eye level as she spoke, "Why do you think that?" 

"I did it. I asked him to come down." I sobbed uncontrollably as my heart ached. I looked up at her as tears ran down my face. I clenched my teeth, still sobbing as I looked back down at the ground.

To my surprise, your mother pulled me into her embrace as she sat on the floor with me. She held the back of my head to her chest while she patted my back in comfort, the notebook still in the hand that held my head.   

"I didn't mean to," I whispered.