Lying in bed, shirtless with overbearing silence wasn't the way our story was supposed to go. I know that. I do.
So why?
Why. Why?
The one word that had been echoing over and over, and over and over, and over and over in my mind as I'd stood still on a incredibly sunny afternoon just hours before, as they lowered your casket into the ground.
The sun was like a spit in my face- just a week ago, the rain had been like a flood sent down by god, like he was trying to flood us out, like with Noah's ark, and his story.
Was it? God's wrath, I mean.
You were probably laughing at me from up in heaven right now.
You liked to tell me "God does everything for a reason".
And I'd thought so too, until he took you away.
Or I gave you to him.
A wave of tiredness washed over me, and I could only barely just glance at the torn button-up shirt on the floor.
It was one of the only ones I owned, the very same one I vividly remembered you telling me I'd looked handsome in, on some random sunny day like today, as we'd gone to some bland event for school.
I'd wanted to say something nice about your favorite red dress you had been in, but I felt like it was too... intimate.
Now the memory of your eyes, almost shyly flicking down to the ground, and back into my eyes ran through my mind, chasing me even when I closed my eyes.
For once in my life, I didn't have you there, in my room, watching some dumb show on my overpriced T.V mom and dad had bought me, mainly because they didn't spend enough time at home to even know what I would've liked instead.
The house was almost peaceful, with how silent it had become.
It made me see, when I'd realized you weren't coming over again- that you were kind of the center of the warmth I'd felt here.
I needed to do something, I suddenly felt, getting up before the too-hot duvet swallowed me whole, like I'd begun dreaming of.
So, I wandered into my closet, filled with clothes you'd picked for me- and almost floated through it, careful not to make contact with any of the still racks of clothes, scanning in the darkness of this oversized closet.
Soon though, I found it.
My old t-shirts.
Symbols of the past mom and dad seemed to have forgotten of, if not outright had become ashamed of.
I wasn't sure if you'd been able to tell, or I would've been able to tell you- eventually- but I wasn't from this suburban mansion-filled neighbourhood.
I'd been raised in a trailer park, I'd been part of the lower class this neighbourhood seemed to be unaware existed outside of talks my parents seemed to float though with their business friends, about how apparently the amount homeless and lower class percentages seemed to have begun to grow.
You'd been different though.
You were caring, if not a little bit out of touch, and that must've been the reason why we'd clicked, and almost instantly became fast friends, Rose.
You enjoyed the events your parents took you to just as much as I had- not much.
I laughed into the dark closet- lost in the memory that had surfaced-
You awkwardly and repeatedly thanking the catering staff at one of those formal events we'd been dragged to by our parents, for every single little thing.
While everyone just gave entitled nods, and blank looks, you looked them right in the eyes, eyebrows, so, so expressively pinched as you gave them a hushed thank you with every napkin given, and plate brought forward.
I'd looked at you the entire time, your golden hair shining in the dim lights, with your brilliant smile, and god, I think that's when I must've been too far gone.
I didn't know how to say anything, feeling so out of place, like a cactus in a snowstorm, as the event began to go full speed, plates getting cleared, desserts being brought out, speeches given- such a far fetched sight from the green grass and the peeling paint from the trailers back home.
Where there had been people milling about in wife-beaters and pajama bottoms, there were now button ups and blazers, with finely tailored and ironed out dress pants.
And I'd felt a tap on my shoulder- I could nearly feel it, even now, as I wrestled the worn out, and too-small shirt over myself.
And there you were, Rose!
I guess in hindsight, I hadn't been as subtle with my looks as I had thought, and you'd noticed, because as I would come to learn- you were pretty sharp.
But the memory slipped through my grasp- the darkness in this closet and the silence replaced the brilliance and chatter I'd imagined just now.
The shirt had become too small, I noticed.
After all, I had brought it here nearly ten years ago.
I was stretching the seams, and any rough movement would tear it- I could feel the resistance.
But I didn't care.
It felt like I was finally in my own skin, not a loose imitation, with all the expensive suits and clothes my parents had gotten for me.
So, with that, I walked out the closet, and looked out my window, overlooking my parent's very own slice of suburbia, and opened it, climbing onto the rooftop ledge my 2nd story room gave me access to.
From there, I clambered up onto the top roof, facing the back, and it's perfectly maintained rolling backyard, and the overpriced pool it overlooked.
And with without a second of hesitation, I took two strong steps- and jumped.
I felt the wind whip my hair as I began to lose control of my fall, heading face-first into the pool.
This must've been what you felt, when you dared yourself to try this out years ago, Rose.
I took a lungful of cold water as I couldn't control my reflex as the water shocked me- the house had shaded it from the warming sun.
That- and the powerful shock I felt as my forehead tapped the bottom of the pool-
All of a sudden, I felt like my brain had become mashed potatoes. The impact ran through my body, before the pain did, I thought- a split second before it started.
But alas- I didn't pass out.
Instinctually scrambling, my arms caught the pool's ledge as my body fought to cough out, just to breathe in the very same water.
I broke the surface, and felt myself blubber and hack up the water.
Given the burning I felt in my nose, seemed as though the water was leaving even through there, Rose.
My eyes burned from the chlorine, as I hauled myself over the edge, and lied there, coughing my lungs out, it felt like.
This was what you must've felt like, Rose, when you broke your arm here, on that very same jump.
The thought brought out uncontrollable laughter out of me- burning as my throat didn't get a second to recover.
Back then, you'd began to scream, looking at me, while shouting:
'I need CPR!'- just because you'd seen it in enough movies, and thought it was some magic cure for anything that happened in the water.
Shit, I remember laughing just as hard as I was now about that- just a couple weeks ago, with you, Rose.
I finally opened my eyes, feeling light-headed as I tried to force myself to stop laughing, unable to stop a couple of giggles from leaking out.
Talking about leaking- red was leaking onto the sandpaper-like edge of the pool, staining the gritty white paint a light red.
I took a short look at the pool- a light patch of it was a pale red-ish orange.
Mom and Dad were going to kill me.
"If I don't die from the concussion first, right, Rose?"
"Wait-" I giggled "-Did I say that out loud?"
I couldn't stop the hysterical laughter from coming out, as I wobbled onto my feet, ignoring the warmness streaming down my forehead, and into my eyes, stinging them even more than the chlorine.
Giggling, I took one step after another to the direction of your house.
Well. Your backyard.
After all, I had something pretty important there, Rose.
See you soon.
Love,
-Me.