Searching

It was hard, at first, being without you. Not that it’s easy now. But after your body was first discovered, and after the flowers, and the songs, and the hugs and gifted food were all gone, it was so hard. As the denial drained out of me I felt all hope, for you, for better days, for the future, for myself, flush away as well. I was hollow. The feeling that is now familiar was just making itself at home, and it messed with my reality.

* * * * * * * * * * *

I sat in class staring blankly at my chemistry teacher. No one was paying attention. People were talking; classmates were playing around, laughing and tossing papers at each other. Everyone around me was animated and alive, while I felt very dead. Dead enough to press myself into my desk; to feel as if I was pressing myself through my desk, through the floor and into the ground. I was in the ground, sinking. I looked up to see the sky shrink away as earth closed in around me, and then everything was dark.

I started to swim through the earth. Above me, I heard trains whistling, and then I was too deep to hear anything. My moves were fast, yet calculated. I was looking for you. But where were you? And why had you left me at all? Why had you lied, and told me that you were going to be okay, when all along you had been planning to leave me? Where were you? How could you?
Where were you? The more I thought, the more frantic my strokes became. I needed to find you, to hold you, to have you back again. But the world is huge, even huger when you’ve lost someone, and this was starting to seem like a lost cause. There was too much ground to cover, and I was losing control.

I couldn’t wait any longer.

Edward!” I screamed, opening my mouth for the first time. Maybe if you heard me, heard my anguish and fear, you would come back. “Ed – ”

But you shouldn’t open your mouth underground. All the dirt came rushing into my body. It filled my mouth and my throat. It got into my lungs, and my eyes and my ears. It was everywhere, and still coming. This wasn’t how I’d wanted to fill my hollowness, and you still weren’t there.

I started vomiting. Every last bit of dirt, every reminder of loss, of abandonment, of grit and the baseness that I felt, I needed it out of my system and away from me. I retched and writhed and sobbed, and then I wasn’t underground anymore. I was back at my desk, still retching and writhing and sobbing but silently, dryly. No one noticed.

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