The Fountain of Words

Chapter 1: Monday

Maybe it was the angel that watched over the fountain that brought us together, maybe it was God, an entity of fate, or maybe it was pure coincidence. Maybe I'm fine with 'maybes', and maybe it will never be enough.

Cole

"Ha! You let another one just leave?" Jackson clicked his tongue with unconvincing disdain. "I swear, Cole, you don't actually want to date girls, maybe you're gay!" He enthused with a teasing voice and slight underlying suspicion. "Right, J, in truth, I've actually been like a bitch in heat for you for all these years-" at first Jackson's eyes widened, his mouth almost about to gape open, until he caught me in the midst of my sarcasm. "Dimwit" I snapped in mock anger, looking at the edge of the cliff we were on. "You gotta admit, Cole, in all our years of High School, never once have you acted as kindly towards a girl as you have any guys. Do you have mommy issues?" Jackson poked. "Don't you need a mom for mommy issues?" I rolled my eyes, knowing I was wrong, but wanted to make the point he poked too far. I looked at the edge of the cliff, feeling my facial muscles involuntarily stretch into a smile like a little kid. "I wish you were as happy with a girl as you are when you look over the edge of every cliff we've ever been on." Jackson scoffed, but any word he could've said in this moment was intercepted by the sound of the wave crashing against the rocks of this cliff. In the moment of feeling the strong breeze that jostled my hair, I quickly pulled my shirt over my head and threw it off. I got in position at the edge of the cliff, gently pushed my hands together, and jumped off into a dive for the water. Before hitting the water, I treasure this feeling, the feeling of every part of gravity attracting me to the water, a force like a magnet pulling me closer as my body moves against the air, a breeze that makes me forget everything but the moment, and then a loud hard splash into the water. I'm under, and I can feel the warmness of comfort in the coolness of the waters. I feel the only focus that my life can handle, the focus of holding my breath, and feeling every particle of water, and then swimming up, having to deal with the world above.

I hear another splash, Jackson, I wait. There is an unsaid rule with cliff diving between me and Jackson. If we don't come up after 3 minutes, it's time to find each other. I was looking for him in 2.  I heard and felt rapid movement of the water only a meter away from me, I swam underwater and opened my eyes. I could see blurriness, and a lot of damn bubbles, as I saw the blurred movement. I swam faster towards it, grabbed until I felt skin, and we were pulled up. "I can't- Cole- I can't move! COLE! I can't swim." Jackson screamed, it was like an animal who just got shot. It was familiar, how helpless Jackson was in this moment. My whole body was numb, but I forced movement, I grabbed his arm and put it around my neck as I tried my best to swim above-water to the shore. If not for the water's buoyancy I might not have been able to swim back to the shore, but we made it. I rolled him over on the ground as I laid in the sand, heaving. "Cole- I'm scared. I can't--damnit! Cole I can't feel or move my leg." Jackson cried out like a deer in the headlights. "Cole!" He growled with irritation. I reached for my phone, dialed 911 then waited for the annoying buzzing of the rings. "Hello, what's your emergency?" The sweet monotone lady on the other side of the line asked.

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6 weeks later

Monday

I walked through the doors of the hospital... again. I haven't visited him for 3 weeks, and all I can do is sigh when I walk past every person in waiting. All I can think when I see them is that their family, friend, boyfriend, or girlfriend, fiancee, or ex-fiancee is put on a waiting list because I was too stupid, too involved with myself to have given up on the stupid sport I enjoyed, and because of that, doctors and nurses have to put time into the mistake that I made, and make everyone else suffer. I look into the sad eyes of every single person in this waiting room as I pass them, and the guilt seeps into my soul, but still, I walk. Force myself to be human. I avoid the eyes of the people on the elevator, unable to bear any more guilt or blame. I find myself in the doorway of Jackson's room. A broken leg. I chuckle to myself with mockery. "Damn, Cole. How many damn times do I gotta tell you, man? It's not your fault I'm in here. Now come on in. I haven't seen you for weeks!"

"Sorry." I manage to let out. "I swear to God, Cole, once I'm out of this cast, I'm kicking the shit out of you, dude." He narrows his cold but welcoming stare onto me. "Make it quicker, then." I force a smile, a smile that makes him fume even more, but a joke that makes him more patient. "I'm getting out in 4 more days, did ya hear? I can finally bother your ass when I get back to uni." I look at him, a little lighter, "thank God." I tell him, unable to find a word to express how I feel. Happy? Happy because I don't have to feel the guilt of the other patients and their families or friends, and sad, sad because I will have to see a reminder of my mistake on a daily basis.

---

After meeting Jackson, I go off to take a walk, lost in my own mind, the endless stream of thoughts. A negative wasteland. Sometimes, my head gets so twisted, it's almost like I see the world through a lens of a camera with a negative filter. I stop when I've realized I might not just be lost in my mind, but I might be too far off from where I was heading. But, I like where I am, in the abandoned cross-hairs of a forgotten park at night. It feels like this is exactly where I needed to be, even if it wasn't where I was trying to go. I took a stroll in this small, forgotten park, hoping there wasn't a surprise mugger, or gangster about to shoot the joint up. Despite my anxieties, this park was surprisingly relaxing, peaceful. It was just like the cliff, except this was something I might not have to be ashamed of, a place only I know. I found myself at a fountain, it was reflecting light from a streetlamp. It made the water look almost enchanted, but more-so like it was a metaphor for the physical world. The particles in these waters, constantly in collision, it felt as if somehow these are all the words I could never say, me and the whole world. As they flowed from the top, down to the bottom, trying to escape but never finding a way out, only the lucky and nonsensical words find their way out, but all the important ones go back in a cycle. Magic, almost. I looked at the angel staring back at me, and couldn't help but think, God, if you're there, please save me. I don't want to be alone anymore.