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I breathe a heavy sigh. The empty room below me makes my heart ache. There should be a great number of people there; instead, it’s hollow enough to make my sobs echo.
Had they been here, I wouldn’t be crying. Had they been here, I would be happy. But then, we’ve always had many enemies. We’ve always been in grave danger. The problem was we just didn’t know it this time.
I feel a hand on my shoulder, but is it real? I turn, expecting to face a ghost, but instead finding Norman, the only remaining friend of mine. He tries hard to smile, but we both know we can’t. He breaks down and lets me bury my face in his shoulder while my shirt soaks his tears, too.
We’re silent for a while. I can faintly feel my heart still beating. His shattered breaths dance in my ears.
“If we could have changed it… we would have.”
His words are not comforting. His words poison my heart. We know we were useless then, just as we are now. We were having a good time while our family was being tortured and killed. Our family, whom we loved, was suffering and dying… and for what?
In my rage, I grip the cloth on his back. There will be no more good times, no more fun moments. They gave me back our story just to be lost in the ending. This can’t be happening.
Norman whimpers. I release the tension in my hand, realizing that some of his skin was trapped with the cloth. I open my mouth to apologize, but nothing comes out. My throat is too swollen. I simply try to rub the pain away.
His arms wrap me tighter and more completely, pressing my cold body to his warm one. He still holds it, I realize. He still has the warmth of love in him. I can still feel it. I desperately want to smile, to laugh. Instead, I cry. I weep. I mourn. There’s nothing left but us.
“I’m… sorry.”
His head lifts. His breath lands on the place where my ear used to be. He kisses that old wound and shakes his head. “Don’t be. It’s not your fault.”
“I’m so sorry,” I bawl, beginning to let my rage form noise. They were all we had, I want to scream, but what use is there in shouting when nobody is there to hear it?
“I’m to blame, Emma, you know this,” he snaps. I shut my mouth and give ear to him. “I never should have asked you out. That’s why we weren’t there to protect them… we were on a date.”
“And I loved it,” I whimper. “It was wonderful. We had no idea that would happen, so you’re not to blame. I just… can’t blame you. Even if it is true and you are to blame.” He kisses my tears away. I close my eyes and let him. “You’re all I have, so please… don’t try to look like the bad guy.”
He sighs. “I love you.”
I stay silent. All my ability to speak has been used in defending him in his own eyes. I weep into his chest, finally too weak to make a noise. If his hands weren’t holding me up, I would be on the ground, crumpled by the weight of this loss.
It comes to me. We’ve lost. All these victories, and we’ve just lost. Somehow, the notion quiets me.
“Norman…?”
“Yes?” He locks eyes with me.
“I think… I want to see them again.”
He registers my declaration for a moment. It takes some time, but his eyes widen and he takes in a shaky breath. “No,” he whispers. “No, no, no, Emma.”
I smile, eyes closed. “I think I wanna die.”
I can hear the devastation in his heart; I don’t need to see him to learn that that much is true. His bony arms squeeze tighter around me. “You wouldn’t….”
I giggle. “From Ray to me the wish to die has been passed. Isn’t that interesting? Once he’s gone, that little voice inside him passes right to me. Who would’ve thought?” I open my eyes to stare into his. “I wanna die.”
He appears to have lost sleep. He looks sick. He looks tortured and depressed. He’s faring as badly as I am, but he’s handling it better. But in his eyes, I see just how I look: insane.
He plants a short kiss on my lips. “Keep it together, Emma. We’ll get out of this.”
The tears flow anew from my eyes. My smile withers and I resume screaming into his chest. “I can’t do this! I just can’t live without them!”
“Emma, what are you thankful for?” I barely hear his soft whisper over the sounds of my distress. “Let’s focus on what’s good about today, okay?”
I bite my lip to suppress the howling. “I’m… I’m thankful for you.”
His cheek, pressed against my head, puffs up in a smile. I know he’s touched, not joyful, but it’s enough. This is the beginning. This is where we start healing.
“I’m thankful for you, too… everyone was thankful for you.”
We collapse onto the floor. He envelops my smaller form in his while we both weep openly. Healing… healing…. This is the start. It’s slow. It’s painful. But I still have Norman. I still have the boy I lost once, and I refuse to lose him again. He will be my purpose, and I will be his. I rub his back gently. I will be his. The thought pulls upwards on the corners of my mouth.
“Thank you… Norman.”