°cherry tree°- •비민•

十七

   I walked down the hallway. It was night. The building was empty. My hand grazed the white walls and the familiar scent of latex filled up my nose.

   Was it possible to feel absolutely no emotion?

   Or was numbness an emotion?

   I arrived to the room I needed to go to. A221.

   I knocked. 

   Nobody answered, as always.

   I drew the lines of the door handle with my finger before gripping it tight and turning it, pushing open the door.

   I saw him. Laying there. Lifeless.

   I sworn I could have felt his empty eyes while I touched the deadly cold of his pale, dehydrated skin.

   I knew it was over.

   But I didn't cry.

   The beeping of the heart monitor flat-lining filled up my ears. I held his hand. His cold, dead hand. I rubbed it with my thumb.

   It was weird. Weird to hold his hand, but not seeing him hold it back. His small fingers dangled off my hand, lifeless.

   I stared at the life support machine and breathed along to the two big accordions intended to make him breathe artificially.

   I still can't see his face. I don't understand how. He doesn't have a hoodie on. I can see his hair. Yet, his face still remains unrevealed.

   It was black. Like a shadow. A shadow I can't get rid of.

   The shadow that has always been there. The barrier in between us.

   But I know it's him. I can feel him. His hand, his hair.

   His blue hospital robe was too big for his small, malnourished body. He was not strong. I wish he could have fought this for longer.

   I closed my eyes.

   What if I came earlier? Would everything be better? Would he keep fighting?

   He was too weak to fight it back.

   I'm too weak to fight it back.

   I can't fight back for as long as he did.

   But that's when I finally realized,

                                      𝙃𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙨𝙤 𝙢𝙪𝙘𝙝 𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙤𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣 𝙢𝙚.