The Second Writer Games: Life and Death

Finals - One Day More - Candor Rouse

1440 minutes left...
I wake up to the sound of soft waves hitting the shore, washing over the sand. My eyes open to see the pale blue sky, and intense sunlight over head that is blinding. The last thing I remember is being the last survivor of the games, I'd killed Heather. Last thing I saw was her body falling to the ground, and I had heard a canon go off. Next thing I knew, the forest was spinning, and I began to feel light headed. Where am I? I sit up, and squint at the sand, and low tide that comes in. I'm on a beach, the same beach where I was last alive. Not to any surprise, I'm wearing the same clothes I died in. Well, at least the clothes that I'd worn under my winter jacket anyways. A white soccer jersey, black jeans, and an old pair of sneakers. Sneakers in winter? No wonder my mother gave me a hard time about it. Slowly, I stagger to my feet, and it feels a bit odd walking again. Each step is heavier, and it's a little harder to stand when your legs are so wobbly. Forever hateful for gravity.
Okay, so I have 24 hours to finish what I started, and than I die again. Speaking of which, how did I die? Doesn't matter, go find mom. Wait, where do I live again?....7062 something, something avenue....7062 Orange Road Ave. I brush the sand off of my shirt, and jeans, and walk the beach until I find a parking lot. Odd thing is, I hate parking lots, and I can't remember why. Same thing for trucks, I hate them more than anything, and I don't remember why.
1350 minutes left...
My heart feels heavy as I stand in front of my old front door. I look around at the home I once lived in, the sidewalk, the stairs leading to the door, the navy blue Honda civic parked next to the sidewalk, and the welcome mat that is place right under my feet. Across the street from my house is an old playground, and park that I remember I used to beg my mom to walk me to. Looking at it, I see that they replaced the old blue swing set I used to swing from, and in it's place seems to be some monkey bars that I imagine make the toddlers go nuts. For once in my life, the sound of traffic doesn't bother me, it's reassuring, and actually makes my heart feel lighter, and less heavy.
I don't even have to try the doorknob to know what I already know. The door's locked, because my mom always locks the door, even when she's home, and I can't ever remember a time when the door wasn't locked. We never got robbed, so I guess maybe it helped prevent it? If mostly everything stayed the same since I've been gone, than the key should be inside a hollow stone that is normally placed by the door that also says "Welcome." I look down, and to my relief, the rock is there, exactly where it's supposed to be. I kneel down, and flip the rock over, and unscrew the cap. Inside the hollow rock is a silver key with the initial 'R' imprinted into it. Quickly, I place everything back to exactly how it was, before putting the key in the key hole. I turn the key, and twist the cold knob that sends chills down my spine. In case my mother is in the living quarters, I slowly begin to open the door upon entering. Nothing's changed. Not the kitchen, no new couch, no new dining table or T.V, it's exactly the same.
"Daniel? Is that you?" a soft voice comes from upstairs.
Why couldn't they both be here? I'm grateful for the time I have, but there are so many things I need to do, and say. This is no different from death, because you're always being timed, and my time is running out again. Steadily, I begin to walk up the stairs, and apart of me wishes I could stay in this house. My parent's room is next to mine, which was a good thing when I was a kid, but not so much as I grew up. The door to my room is closed, and I feel an urge to see it for one last time. Before I open the door to my parent's room, I open the door to mine. To my surprise, everything was left exactly the same way I left it. My shelves hold the exact same books that now collect dust, my bed has the exact same bed sheets, the walls are the same color, and none of the photos or posters I hung up were taken down. They left it for me in case I came back. A large, bitter lump forms in my throat, and I slowly close the door, and approach the door step to my parent's room. When I open the door, I see my mother sitting on the bed, wearing a nightgown and, completely out of it. I see her ear twitch as the door creaks. Yet, she doesn't look at me, she doesn't say anything, she just sits there silently, with foggy eyes, and deflated curls. I move closer, until eventually I am beside her on the bed, and I brush the curls out of her face.
"Mom." I say softly.
She turns to me with wide eyes, and just stares at me bewilderingly.
"It's happening again, another psychotic episode where I think I can see you, but you're not really here." she mumbles sadly.
Her eyes sadden, and I can't bare the thought of seeing her cry again. Even if I told her it really is me, she wouldn't believe me, I'm supposed to be dead. How do you say what you need to say without sounding crazy? How do you say it, when it's your last chance you'll ever get?
"Sometimes, as humans, we have so many questions, that not all of them can be answered, sometimes, we may find ourselves asking questions that don't need to asked, and other times, the answers we find aren't always the answers we want. Just for today, I need you to stop asking questions, and just go with it, plain and simple. Because no matter how I put it, I'll be giving you the answers that you either don't want, or don't believe. For now, please just go with it, can you do that for me?" I pause as she stares blankly into my eyes, before agreeing with a small "yes" that I can hardly hear.
"I need you to know how much I love, and care about you. All those times you broke down crying, you couldn't see me, but I was still there. Trust me, that I'll always be with you. I know it's not as great as having me physically here, nor will it dull any of the depressing blows, but I need you to let me go, and let me stay beside you though you can't always see me. It's been hard, and I know that more than anyone, including you. I can't tell you how many times I wanted and needed you to see me, and know I was always there. I can't tell you how much I miss you everyday, or how much I love and care about you, and I can't even begin to explain how much I regret things I'd done, or things I should have done. On behalf of Parker as well, we need you to let go, no matter how hard it is or how hard it's going to be. You have always been right about life never being fair, while you lost both of your only children, and other mothers can have twenty, thirty children without losing a single one, it's not fair, everyone knows that. Being gone for so long, I had time to think things over, and I realized that life isn't about being fair at all. It's about moving forward with that thought in mind, and being strong enough to ignore the pain so you can be happy. The cold, hard truth is, what's done is done, and the world doesn't stop spinning or changing, just because I'm not in it. It hurts me to no longer be apart of it, and I, myself, hate the idea that life will move on with or without me. It's time to let go, and move on. Being sad, and feeling sorry for yourself won't change a thing, and it won't dull the blow to your heart. I love you, and I want you to be happy, even if I'm not there to share it with you." I continue.
She doesn't blink, and doesn't react to any word I said. Her eyes are still blankly lost, and her expression doesn't change. Harsh reality that even when I come back, it's not enough. I hug her into a warm embrace, and she hugs back. Can't I just stay here? No? I'll always miss that sort of hug. I hear her cry, and all I do is hold her in my arms to comfort her. Nothing I say will make her happy, and I don't expect it. Death is hard, no matter who dies, or whose dealing with it. With every breath she cries harder, and I hold her until I can no longer hear her heavy breaths, or pain-filled cries. By the time I let go, I realize she's fallen asleep. With the bitter strength within me, I let her go, and tuck her under the covers, and kiss her on the cheek. I love you mother, and goodbye.
Next to the bed is a nightstand with a lamp on top of it, and beside the lamp is a pen, and large notepad. How much time do I have left? Like, roughly, 19 hours left? Sounds accurate. I grab the pen, and notepad, and take it with me, into my old bedroom. With a heavy heart, I begin to write, and pray to god it doesn't look like chicken scratch, and is actually readable. Trying to find the right words I want to, and need to say to so many people, is harder than I thought.
By the time I've finished, I've blown almost all my hours, perfecting letters, and words that need to be said, and done. I've never been too good with words, not even romantically. The first letter I wrote, was to my mother for when she wakes up.
Dear Mom,
It hurts me to say that I won't be here when you wake up. You won't be shocked, 'cause you're probably convinced it was only a dream, seeing me beside you. I'll say as I said before, I love you, and I want you to be happy. Don't let Parker, and I, be the ones to hold you back from your own happiness. In our own way, we're not happy in the same matter as we were alive, but I promise you that we're happy, and working towards an inner peace that I can't really explain. Just because we're dead, doesn't mean we can't see you, and truthfully, like we did when we alive, we're always with you when you have your moments that make life worth living, and also, we're with you even in your worst moments where you feel like giving up. You're never alone, and you were never meant to be alone. Your purpose in life is to find yourself, and your own form of peace, no matter what results come from it, and no matter the obstacles you face. Know, that Parker and I love you, and wish the best for you. We love you more than you can ever know.
Always in your heart,
Candor Augustus Rouse

P.S. I'm sorry for all the times I talked back to you, and gave you nothing but smart ass remarks.

This letter, I leave by her nightstand for when she wakes up. My next letter, I leave on the fridge, with a magnet to hold it up, so my dad can find it easily when he comes home from work.
Dear Dad,
You won't believe me that this is from me, but if you can forget about logic for even just a second of time, you'll know this is from me, your son, Candor. I want you to know that even though you weren't always around often, I love you just as much as Mom. I know it's been hard, especially on you. You're the man of the house, and you have to stay strong for everyone around you, for at the moment, they're at their lowest point, and feel weak, and depressed. I know in my heart that you too, feel just as much as pain they do, though you're trying to repress it. Even the bravest men, and strongest men have their moments, and you deserve to have yours. Big boys can cry, just like big girls. No one will think any less of you, because no one is invincible, and we all feel pain.
Please continue to take care of mom. She isn't as strong as you, and I know you're strong enough for the both of you.
Love you always,
Candor Augustus Rouse

My last two letters are special to me, because they're to people whom I aren't related to, and have no obligation to love me unconditionally, yet they did anyways. I leave them in places that they always check, and only they could find.
Dear Jaime,
For a second in time, I need you to forget about logic, and what makes sense, and what doesn't. Even if you saw me for yourself, you wouldn't believe it was me. I need you to know that I miss you, and I need you to know how special you are to me. Life is rough, though you already know that, and I don't expect you to move on in just a flash. I wasn't world's number one boyfriend, and I know one day you'll move on from me, to pursue your own dreams, and other fish in the sea. You'll always be special to me, even when you meet that other special somebody. I'll never stop caring for you, and whoever you fall in love with, will be the luckiest man alive. (Or woman, 'cause who can really say?) One day you'll forget me, and one day you'll know exactly how much you meant to me. Stay beautiful, princess.
Forever and always,
Candor. A. Rouse

Dear Andy,
It's me, your old best friend, Candor. I know it's impossible, and I don't expect you to believe me, even if you saw me with your own eyes. If you forget about logic, and what makes sense, and what doesn't, you'll know it's me. I want you to know that I love you like a brother, and how much you mean to me, as a best friend, and practically family member. I remember the day I met you, when we were in the 3rd grade, and honestly, it was one of the best moments of my life. You're one of the strongest, and awesomest guys I know, and I know this will barely keep you from holding your head high. As my best friend, I know you miss me, yet at the same time, I know you're head strong. Even though you're sad now, I want you to remember that as my best friend, you have a morale obligation to always be happy...Just kidding. You'll forever be my best friend, and no one can ever replace you in my heart. Whenever you feel down, I want you to remember a quote from our favorite band, Cartel Collider, and the important words they once spoke, "Things could be worse, but they could be better. First thing's first, always remember to keep your head up..." I love you like a brother, and I wish you good luck in college. Kick ass, take names later.
Sincerely,
The kid you wish you'd never met- Candor. A. Rouse
12 minutes left..
I walk the streets of New York, because that's how I want to spend my last few minutes or hours of life..I lost count at how much time is left...For the first time in a long time, I'm legitimately okay, because everything will be okay. The world doesn't stop, not for me, or anyone else. For a couple minutes, I stop in front of a store that I used to work at before I died, and just take a moment to remember it. Game Stop. It was my first, and last job, and honestly, I loved working there. Not because I played video games, which I rarely did, but because of some of the people that came in. People at Wal-Mart? Try people at Game Stop.
As I take everything in, I feel something hit me in the back of my head. I turn around to see a large hammer, with my blood on it. My head pounds, and I feel excruciating pain in my head, as if something is trying to kill my brain. It takes me a while to realize I'm now on the ground, and I faintly hear a woman screaming to call 911. Another blow lands to my chest, and my lungs beg for air as I let out a scream of pain. My head throbs, and I can hear my own heart beat inside my head. Death is present, yet once again. The last thing I register, is a final blow to my neck that feels like a stab to the throat rather than a hit. For my last second of life, I can't breathe, my lungs scream, and I feel this clawing inside my head as my head pounds, and people scream. Very faintly, I feel something rummaging through my pockets, and I hear footsteps run off. It all goes black, and honestly, I don't mind...