Enter Night 《Cliff Burton》

5

        "Hey man," Michael said as I opened the door. He was shivering. I quickly opened the door wider to let him in. "Helige skit, broder!" I swore in Swedish. "Did you walk here?"

          He wrapped himself tighter in his leather jacket and shook his head to spread his long brown hair behind his back. "Yeah, it's not that far and I thought I could withstand this fucking cold." I sighed. "Hot chocolate?" I offered. He nodded gratefully.

         "Where are your mom and dad?" He asked, as I came back with two cups. "Alvesta," I said. Michael looked slightly surprised. "Why didn't you call us over then? We could've jammed all evening."

My hand which was stirring my cup of hot chocolate froze.

"Uh.. I just wanted to be alone."

"For what, to talk to your imaginary friends?" Michael smirked. I raised my eyebrows at him. "Imaginary friends?"

        "Don't pretend, I heard you talking to yourself when I was about to ring the doorbell."

I almost choked on my drink. My first instinct was to defend myself, but then I realized it was much better to go along with what he thought.

        "Yeah, I guess I was talking by myself," I said, avoiding his eyes.

"I thought I heard a dude's voice too." Michael's deep ocean blue eyes darted around the room, and my own hazel ones widened. "But nobody else seems to be around. I must be insane," He chuckled.

          "I didn't hear any dude talk," I smiled, melting inwardly with relief. "The only dude here is you."

Michael gave me a half smile and downed the rest of his hot chocolate. "So is that your acoustic guitar? I remember when your dad first bought that shit," He said, looking back at it, which was leaned against the couch where I had last seen Cliff. "I heard you play Ktulu. You never told me you knew that song."

        My head jerked toward him in panic. I racked my brain for a proper answer. "Um... I'm actually still learning," I said, looking at the last few drops of chocolate in my cup. "I was looking at some tabs online."

"Oh," Michael simply stated, thankfully not pushing it further. He stood up, dragging the chair loudly behind him. "When will your parents come back?" I checked the time from the wall clock. "Still two more hours," I said.

"No time to get drunk then," He said, with another half smile.

          "Well we can still jam," I grinned and took the empty cups to the sink. "Should I call Brian and Pete?"

"Nah, your parents will be home too soon. We'll play stuff alone; you sing, I play." He picked up my guitar and sat down on the couch where Cliff was sitting on earlier.

"Alright," I finished washing the cups and sat down next to him. "Actually... let's go outside," He said, getting up. "Look how beautiful the weather is."

        "Yeah right, this stupid heavy rain that freezes on the roads, causing awful road accidents," I grumbled as we made our way to the door. If there was anything I didn't like, it was precipitation; it was never pleasant anywhere in Scandinavia.

"Reminds me of Cliff Burton," Michael said, opening the door with one hand, letting in a gust of wind.

I looked at the floor. "Yeah. I.. rest in peace, Cliff."

I could've sworn I heard a chuckle that didn't come from Michael.

         We stepped outside together. The sky looked bleak, and the rain was turning into sleet, which as I said, froze as soon as it hit the ground. Gusts of wind shook the lifeless branches of trees that never grew back their leaves after winter. The temperature was piercing cold, and I was glad I was wearing a jacket. I could also hear thunder in the distance.