Everyone That You Left Behind ➳ Petekey (COMPLETE)

23: Life is but a dream for the dead

"And so here I am, in the midst of Hell." I practically slurred my words in the most sarcastic way possible. It was true, I had spent a lifetime in what one could only think of as purgatory.

"No Pete... This is therapy..." Her voice trailed off as she looked down at her notes, she shook her head but she couldn't conceal the slight smile spreading across her lips.

"Exactly! Same thing right? Just different words but they have the same meaning." I blurted out.

She gave me a stern look as she raised one eyebrow in a way that was far from amused. Yet moments later her smile had resurfaced. She was clearly pleased with my achievement. By achievement I mean, talking for 6 hours straight about my entire life story for the purposes of my so called "therapy".

"What? This isn't exactly heaven." I said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, which it most certainly was.

"Who said it was ever going to be?" She said simply, clearly intrigued as to what my answer would be. To her disappointment, I remained silent, I had a preference that if I had nothing witty to say I would just say nothing at all.

"Now Pete, would you like to see who you were talking to? Other than me of course." She smiled warmly, trying to reassure me since I had come this far. Her glasses were slowly but surely slipping to the end of her crooked nose as she looked down at me, analysing every inch of me intently. I swear to god all Psychiatrists do that!

"Let me guess... Is it the police again?" I said dryly, glancing, towards the two way mirror with a smug smirk across my face, having my own reflection stare defiantly back at me. Yet I knew that behind my own reflection sat someone who had spent 6 hours listening to me talk about my life, I almost felt bad for them. Dr. Mort had planned this as part of the ending of my "Therapy", I had to tell a complete stranger my entire life story and that would some how cure me of all problems. I didn't see how that was possible, but regardless I went along with her plan in hopes of never having to see her again.

"No, not the police again, you've spoken to them enough for one lifetime." She laughed light heartedly, yet I didn't really find her words at all funny. I wouldn't have been surprised if it had been the police again after everything that had happened.

Then there was a knock at the door. Not a demanding knock or a meek knock but a calm knock, and I felt anything but calm in that moment. Dr. Mort called out to the stranger to come in, and it was then I realised it was not a complete stranger.

It was a guy. But his gender wasn't the first thing I noticed, it was his bright red hair. When I say bright red I mean it was luminous, he might as well have been a traffic light because he sure as hell was a car stopper. His hair was the colour of the flames of hell at their brightest. It was shaggy and unevenly cut as it fell in practically every direction. His hair shaped his face and made every sharp feature more defined. He had pale hollowed cheeks and a button nose which complimented his sharp jaw line. His lips looked slightly off colour, probably because he was cold, and were curved crookedly into a timid smile to offer reassurance yet he looked like death. Then I looked into his eyes. His eyes were the eyes I had seen a million times before, they were the eyes that haunted my dreams. They stared into mine, looking deep into my already exposed soul after spilling it out to him for the past 6 hours. I recognised the pain he was going through as I knew it all too well but I couldn't help but notice a slight glimmer of hope flash across his eyes like a shooting star, I could have easily made a wish upon it.

Before I had realised what I was doing, I was walking slowly and steadily across the room towards him. He knew exactly what to do as he outstretched his arms in a welcoming but necessary gesture, yet I could tell that he was surprised by my willingness to accept his attempt of comfort. I locked my arms around his back, breathing him in as he pulled me into his chest. He felt so cold but I didn't care. No one had held me like that in a long time, people had tried but I hadn't let them, not wanting my feelings to get the better of me. The last time I had held someone like this was when Mikey had told me his entire life story and I couldn't help but wonder if that had sealed his fate. But right then I was holding onto the last connection I had to the the boy I loved, the boy I love.