Terminally Abstract

Chapter 15

"Mmm, baby, I don't understand this
You're changing, I can't stand it
My heart can't take this damage
And the way I feel, can't stand it" - XXXTentacion changes

I watched him die before my very eyes. I watched as his body crinkled and crumbled, displaced limbs flailed about the bed, his head facing the ceiling. Frozen in time, then collapsing on the pillows I used to prop him up. His slit eyes held a blank stare and his mouth gaped open.

"-ove." I stuttered.

My eyes were wide open when the implosion occurred. Scraps of his skull curving into his brain, leaving only a chip behind.

I stared at his cracked open skull, revealing a light pink and gray fat like mush.

It wasn't my fault that he's dead, was it? I really did just kill my best friend. NO, it was the chip, right? The sudden amount of emotion had combusted his mind, yeah that's it. It had to be done. IT HAD TO BE DONE!

I swung my head forward, bowing, shouting,"MICHAEL! I LOVE YOU! THANK YOU! THANK YOU! GOD DAMN IT! I LOVE YOU, I'M SO SORRY."

My voice echoed, along with the sound of static from my laptop and the ring of a flat line.

Could he have felt pain? Did he even understand that he was dying? Should I have told him?

I looked behind myself, watching Michael's mother take a step back farther into the corner. Her knees gave out underneath her weight as she collapsed to the floor and wailed. I closed my eyes and clenched my jaw to her high pitched screams. Michael wouldn't have wanted this. He'd want me to be strong. Like himself. What a damn strong boy he was.

I started leaning off his deathbed, the canvas remaining on the breakfast table, and walked over to his mother. I held out my hand to retrieve my phone, holding the recording of Michael's death.

I grimaced at the memory of extending my hand for Michael's phone, the event only happening longer than a week ago.

I look back at my laptop. Damn. If only I could have hacked through this. Why couldn't life be that simple?

My eyes settle on Ms.Angelo once more as she dropped the phone on the ground and began to shiver.

Why'd he have to leave? My eyes had not stopped watering ever since the incident, sending a steady stream with every step I took closer to her. He wasn't even mine.

I crouched to her level, getting a hold on my phone, and then tried comforting her.

Of course she felt like shit. She was only there for her son for his death. But at least she was there. It's what Michael would have wanted.

Would he have forgiven her?

My embrace hardly did any good, for she began to rock back and forth as Michael once did. She continued swaying herself, over and over. My unlocked phone slipped between my fingers as I tried to distinguish her face from her knees, her black pencil skirt holding her legs even closer.

Shit, she must be in shock.

"My baby." she murmured as her eyes showed the same blankness as Michael's cold body.

"No! Ms. Angelo! Look at me! Come on, look at me!"

"I wasn't there, for my baby." she continued. Her eyes ceased to blink as she watched Michael, I turned to meet whatever she was watching; it was Michael's blood beginning to trickle down to his ears.

"Don't look there!" I tried not to gag, the fume from his body growing stronger. "Don't worry! I'm here, who am I?" I held her face with my hands, but we still couldn't make eye contact as her dark hair covered her face.