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Mason stared at the letter, his back pressed against his favorite resting tree. It was a college acceptance letter that his big sis had given him. She had scraped enough money in to put Mason through college, despite the fact he didn't ask for that. He never planned on going to college. What hippie goes to college? None! That's what! He didn't understand why she wanted him to go so badly. She could easily just go herself. She'd be better for it than him. She was always better than him at all this smart stuff. He was dumber than a bunch of rocks according to others, and he believed it. He never had done well in school the few years he was in it. So he stopped going. His dad hadn't liked that. But Mason was seventeen now, he could do what he wanted. It's not like he stayed at home anyways. After that incident at the hippie house with Red, he just didn't go home anymore. He missed his sisters and brothers, but it wasn't worth getting yelled at and pushed around by his dad. So he stayed away from home. Had been since he was thirteen. Four whole years spent on his lonesome, with the occasional visit from his big sis.
Mason looked at the letter and chuckled a little. Man, wait till Charlie hears about this. He told Charlie everything that went on his life. He was the only one who ever seemed to be listening. The only one who seemed to care. He remembered the nights when Charlie would find him in the park and hook him back to his house to rest and get some proper food in him. Charlie was the only one who cared.
Mason heaved himself from the tree, stumbling at the fog still in his head. Things just hadn't been the same since Charlie closed down his bar. It was a lot quieter around now that there wasn't any place to get blindly drunk. Personally, Mason didn't mind. Alcohol was gross anyways. To him at least it was. Not everyone shared the same taste and beliefs as Mason though. In fact, almost no one he still knew did. He'd used to get jumped all the time because of his beliefs. He still did get jumped, but at least now he knew how to run and get away better than when he was a kid. He was such a dumb kid, yet he seemed like an even dumber teenager. He was living in the park for cripes sake! He was one screwed up kid, that's for sure. He braced himself on the tree for several moments, waiting for the world to stop spinning, the college letter held tightly in his hand.
His feet dragged against the grass, rubbing against the raw of his toes. He wasn't wearing any shoes. He hated the feeling of his moccasins these days. What was the point of disrupting his connection with mother nature with something as silly as shoes? There was no point in it. Besides, he felt more comfortable without them. His moccasins just weren't as comforting as they used to be.
He walked alongside the sidewalk, running his hand along the old, twisted trees that were barred behind the rusty fence. Mason always wondered why Charlie chose to stay here of all places. It was so scary and empty and barren. Not a single healthy blade of grass or bright flower. it was like Mother Nature herself was afraid to touch this land. He wondered why.. She was an unstoppable force and yet hid away from the dead. It made Mason wonder; what was she so afraid of? She created, and yet feared. It was a curiosity. He dragged his feet against the unsteady dirt, the small particles finding their way under his toenails. He breathed in deeply, coughing a little. It was like he could taste death in the air. Mason rounded the corner, pushing open the rusty gate and into the graveyard.
Charlie was there. This is where the two always met up at least. Mason hated the graveyard. It was so.. sad. So many lives gone, such a place was depressing because of the way it wasn't well kept or treated with any respect. It's like the second a life leaves the body, it no longer matters. That's what truly made Mason hate the graveyard so much. He never understood how Charlie could feel so at home and at ease around the dead. Just the sight of bones made Mason sick to his stomach. He was never one who could handle even the sight of a little blood. He was a pacifist after all, what would he need to see blood for? he wanted to end bloodshed, not continue seeing it.
He saw it a lot though some nights he spent at Charlie's bar. He'd seen it on peoples fists, on the walls and even on Charlie himself. It scared Mason to death to think of Charlie possibly being hurt in some way. Hurt enough to draw blood. Mason felt queasy thinking about it, holding his stomach as he trips over a headstone. He whined at the pain in his leg from it, sighing as he laid on his side for several moments. He eventually heaved himself up, no time to pout. Charlie was waiting.
Mason heaved himself onto his feet and began to wander around. Charlie was only ever in one spot, it was just a little hard for Mason to remember since everything around here looked the same asides of some wilted flowers here and there. Eventually he found the small. twisted tree that Charlie liked to meet at. He sat down under it, huffing as he did so. he was so tired. And his head was starting to feel less floaty. That scared him. Since his time in that hippie house, Mason had been suffering delusions and psychosis according to his sister. He used weed to help and calm his mind. He was never not high. He was never not hiding from the spiders that threatened to invade his mind. He just couldn't handle facing the world on his own.
"Hey Charlie," Mason said with a grin on his face, holding up the college letter, "Guess what? Cathy got me into college!"
The air was filled with silence aside the little giggles from Mason. College. What a joke. Cathy should be the one going. She was smarter and had a better future. Smart, pretty, and their parents liked her. She was set for life. And yet she continued to try and push Mason to do things he wasn't prepared for or wanted to do. He knew she meant well, but sometimes he wished she'd just leave him alone. He left home for a reason, but all she saw was her little brother running away without cause or care. Mason leaned back against the twisted tree.
"Can you believe it? She's crazy to be thinking that." Mason went on, looking over the letter all over again. "Me go to college. it's laughable! Hahaha!"
Mason's words devolved into a flurry of giggles and laughter, holding a hand over his eyes as he laughed so loudly that the crows took flight from the tree. He could feel his high drifting away, and that was scary. But he was with Charlie so it didn't matter. He looked over at him with the widest grin on his face that seemed to slowly drift away into a slight frown.
"I don't think I'll go. I mean, it's a long way away. Like- like a whole town over. And I'd miss you and Byron a lot." Mason said, looking down at the ground, properly frowning now. "I'd miss you the most, Charlie.. You're my best friend after all."
There was a beat of silence.
"Don't get me wrong, Byron is great but.. But him and I aren't as close as we are. It just wouldn't be the same. He worries about me like my sister does. I hate it. I'm seventeen, I'm not thirteen anymore." Mason grumbled, his eyes flicking down to the dirt under him. He didn't understand why everyone still treated him like he didn't know anything. He'd done good in school a little before he ran away from home the first time. He wasn't thirteen anymore, he was practically an adult already. And yet they, his sister and everyone else, treated him like he was five.
He was so sick of it. That's part of the reason he ran away. He didn't want to be treated like a toddler anymore. He was very capable! He'd managed being able to avoid getting jumped for weeks now! He just wished his sister and Byron and everyone else saw and understood that. but they didn't. All they saw in him was some kid who needed to be watched every waking moment of his life. Small tears of frustration formed in his eyes as he let go of the letter in favor of running his hands through his long, dark hair. It'd grown out quite a bit in recent years since he stopped going back home. In a way, he was healing. His dad always wanted him to cut it. he'd always say it wasn't right for a boy like Mason to have his hair all long like he was a girl or something. Mason didn't care what he thought though. he liked his hair long, it was better that way. He always had wished Charlie would grow his hair out so that Mason could braid it. Charlie would look real nice with a good braid.
He wiped at the tears in his eye with the bed of his palm, sniffling a little. "If I do go, I'll always come v-visit you when I can. Yer my only friend, Charlie. I don't th-think I could go weeks, let alone months, w-without seeing you.
The silence felt deafening as he looked at the grave beside him. At Charlie. It'd been four years since Charlie had been killed, and it had effected Mason terribly. He acted as if the guy hadn't died. But mason knew he was dead, he just wanted to keep playing that he wasn't. to keep from crying all the time. It was no good crying over a dead guy as everyone said. Especially someone as unimportant as Charlie. but Charlie was important. he was important to Mason, to the little kid who found comfort and safety in some rowdy bar owner. To the little kid who always snacked on little chocolates. To the kid who died long ago with him. Mason couldn't help the tears as they began to flow from his eyes. he missed him. He missed him so fricking much. Why did it have to be Charlie? Why not mark? No one would've missed him!
Mason felt horrible wishing such a thing on his friends brother, but it was the truth. he felt so terrible for thinking it, but it was what it was. It's what he had hoped for. Mason looked over at Charlie's grave and gave a weak smile as he continued to cry. "I always w-was a crybaby, wasn't I?" He dryly chuckled, rubbing his dripping nose on his jacket sleeve.
Reluctantly, Mason heaved himself off the ground. He pressed two fingers to his lips before pressing it to Charlie's name on the headstone. "I'll see you later, Charlie.." He turned and began his walk back to the park, "I love you.." He quietly added before moving through the rusted gates of the graveyard.