Thoughts (A short Freddie Mercury Fluff)

heaven.

carry on, carry on as if nothing really mattered..

-
;1999
It's sad really. How he just died and left me behind. It's not entirely his fault..I mean it kind of is but who am I to judge? I wasn't born at the time and it was his lifestyle that he chose to live. It sounds fun, going to gay clubs and having parties every night but it really does cost.

I have spent all my life wondering why he brought me here in this life when he knew he didn't have much life much left in him...did he think he was going to make it before and somehow loose hope once his health failed? Or did he know he was going to die but just wanted someone to live on for him?

I should be going to sleep, little ole' me has school tomorrow. Aunt Mary will be pissed to see me still up and not getting a good nights sleep. But she's way back home...real home rather than here in California with my mom. Being here is nice and all but it doesn't given me much warmth like my home did.

Even if I like it here since it's warm and nice unlike London, it gets lonely here. All my cousins and family members live across the pond and think it's cool that their American-British cousin is going to a private school here and is living the life of beaches, sun and living loose.

That would be nice and all to do those things because I could...but I had no friends. Nobody liked me. At least I think nobody did. I always dread for vacations to pop up so I can visit them or they can visit me. Usually I visited them but when they came over here, they ask me questions about the customs here.

I sighed, getting out the bed and looking out my window and looking into the clear sky. Some stars twinkled while others were dull and stayed in place. If my father was a literal star in the sky, he would be the twinkling, biggest, brightest star there ever was. I would sadly be the dullest, tiniest star the world has ever seen.

And whenever I feel lonely and feel the need to talk to my father, though I doubt he could here me wherever he is...I look up to the sky to find the biggest star that was shining. That's my father, the most beautiful star you can ever imagine to see.

I was getting into astronomy thanks to my Uncle Brian. He studied astrophysics before he decided to be Queen's guitarist. I used to think he was crazy for having such a passion for stars, space and milky ways but I guess I understood it now.

It's a struggle. To go on without a father. Who you barely knew and died before you were six. I look at the pictures and I don't remember any moment. My five birthdays I shared with him, no. The five Christmases I shared with him, no. Random pictures of me, him, Jim and the cats...no.

I couldn't remember anything but I did remember one thing. The worst thing you could remember. The death. I try not to think about it but it's the only thing I can connect with him. The only connection I could remember and have with him.

I remember some parts of the days leading up to it. He would be in bed, sick and would gently run his fingers through my dark hair. He would look at me with the little strength that he had and would say I was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, besides himself of course. (Yeah, he had every right to say that. He's a good looking man...)

I was oblivious to it all. I thought it was normal that he stayed in bed all day long. I didn't worry when Jim would stay at his bedside all the time and just cry. I didn't see a reason for anyone to cry at the time, he was still there my young mind thought to itself.

November 24th came. He had just told the press the day prior that he was in fact positive for the disease. I wasn't aware that he wasn't taking his medicine to help him the little it can, indicating he would rather die than continue this painful life.