Walking in the Rain

I walk, in the rain. My tears cannot be seen here. I stop, at a lonely church, where the windows, made from such a myriad of coloured glass, are rendered dull to me, by my own sadness. And so, what I feel is destroying me. The rain is washing away my colours, stealing the painter’s palette, dimming my rainbows. The ground refuses me a grip, lets me fall in puddles. My jeans are wet at the knees, but that is of no importance. No-one looks at me; no-one helps me when I slip, when I stumble, when I fall. I fought a losing battle, but the other side is taking me hostage already, because I gave up. As I walk by each individual, their eyes skim past me, like I’m too slippery to catch sight of, am covered in oil. Every further step, loneliness hollows my heart a little more. What will I be by the time I turn the next corner? I no longer care. Each step, I lose another piece, of me, left behind in a trail, so faint it’s hardly there. I reach the corner and step around it. My heart is empty, my eyes cry, I am alone, my world is colourless, no-one cares that I am cold, I’m wet, that I’m there at all. And to top it all, it’s raining. I’ll close my eyes for just one moment; try to remember the rainbow, the fire and the warmth. Yet not of substance. Of my soul, the rainbow he stole away, and the fire he put out in my heart. I’ll dream, maybe I’ll sleep. I’m not even Jack anymore, he loved him. I am nothing, and that does not scare me, what does, is that I no longer care…

A boy rushes down a street, heart pounding with fear, yelling;

“Jack! Where the hell are you Jack!? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it! Please come back, you mean everything to me! I can’t lose you now! Please! Jack!” He rounds a corner and almost rushes past a slight figure curled up by the wall, blonde hair plastered to his forehead by icy droplets of rain. Grey eyes, half open, looking at nothing, glazed. Skin pale and cold.

He stops abruptly and crouches down, stroking the boy’s hair from his eyes, clutching the little body to his own. The blonde boy’s breaths are not coming fast enough, his pulse is so slow. The other boy cradles his head, muttering softly to him;

“God, my baby, my Jack, you’re so cold, and so wet, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean any of what I said. Please say you know that, please, please…”

He begins to cry softly, holding the other boy closer to him, trying to banish the biting chill. The other boy seems to register slightly the other boy’s presence. He looks at him, his slate grey eyes regretful and sad. “Alex…” he whispers. It is not a question, nor an answer, it is a remorseful sigh given words, a heart letting go of its last piece.

Alex looks down at Jack, tears spilling from his own hazel eyes.

“I didn’t mean it Jack” he whispers, trying to assure the little blonde boy. “I didn’t, I promise. I could never have meant that. Never, never, never, I’m so sorry baby…” he trails off, his frantic apologies and reassurances that come too late falling to silence. Jack closes his eyes and his breathing slows even more.

Alex sobs. He promised he wouldn’t let him go, wouldn’t stop keeping him safe, and wouldn’t let him get lost. He’d let him down. It was too late. Jack was a fragile angel that had to be held high up in the clouds, because he hadn’t fixed his wings yet, Alex had let go of him for just a moment, but it was enough.

“Jack…?” he asks softly, hoping the blonde boy is still with him. Begging that God will let him stay, give him the strength to hold on.

After what seems an eternity, Jack opens his eyes with difficulty and looks up at Alex. “You got to hold on Jack. I won’t ever let you go again, I promise. I’ll be an anchor for you, I won’t let you go off and get lost, don’t let go of me. Hold on for me. Please…”

The blonde boy gives a weak and bittersweet smile and murmurs;

“Too late for pretty words now. Already gone too far to reach.” He shivers and his eyes slip closed again. Alex clutches at him tighter, beginning to become frantic;

“No, don’t! Jack!? Jack!? Jack! I love you! You can’t do this!”

Jack whispers softly, head resting on Alex’s chest, close to his heart,

“Why do you tell me that now? Too late though. You love me, but it’s not enough, even though I love you too…” Jack’s voice trails off and Alex strokes his cheek with a thumb.

“I’ve lost you Jack…but I still love you…always will…forever, now until the end of time. It’s my own fault I’ve lost you. I’ll take the blame.” He then sits, cradling Jack close to him and stroking his hair with exceeding gentleness.

He thinks Jack looks so beautiful. His hair is almost as pale as the snow which has replaced the rain, his skin almost as fair. His lips, once so red are slowly turning pale blue with cold. His eyes are closed, lashes and hair dusted with snowflakes that caress his bare skin too, stealing his warmth.

Two policemen are trying to pry away a young boy with brown hair and hazel eyes from another boy who lies frozen and dead in the snow of the sidewalk. The brown haired boy is being arrested for the murder of the other, who was reported missing an hour ago. They wonder what drove the boy to do this and quite how he did it. They try to distract the brown haired boy with questions as they attempt to break his vice-like grip on the littler blonde boy, he replies to every question bluntly and honestly, his voice heavy with tears.

“What is your name?”

“Alex.”

“Full name!?”

“Alexander Troy Queen”

“Who is the other boy?”

“Jack, my best friend, my boyfriend”

“Full name?”

“Jack Heath Tiller”

“Did you kill him?”

“Yes.”

“Why won’t you let go?”

“I haven’t said goodbye.”

“If we let you say goodbye, will you come with us?”

“Yes, I swear on all that I am. In fact, let me say goodbye, and I’ll beg you to lock me away for what I did to him.”

The officers are surprised and have heard the name of Alexander Queen before, and know he is not lying to them. They let go and take a small step back. They watch Alex look down at the pale face of Jack and stroke the icy cheek with an unrivalled tenderness. Then they see Alex lean down and kiss the Jack’s soft pale blue lips in such a way that before he had said another word, they knew he loves Jack with all his heart.

They watch him break away from Jack and whisper to him “Goodbye my baby.” Then they see a bitter smile infused with love and pain twist Alex’s features and hear him croon a few lines of a song, “Goodbye my lover, goodbye my friend, you have been the one, you have been the one for me, yeah goodbye my lover, goodbye my friend, you have been the one, you have been the one for me…” They see Alex trail off, hot tears slipping down his cold cheeks. They hear him whimper softly and choke back a sob. “Goodbye Jack, I love you. Now and forever.”

They watch him, hearts feeling sad and heavy as he strokes the hair off Jack’s forehead and kisses it, then stands up. Their walk him over to the police car and sit him in the back. They don’t cuff him, he is limp and unresisting towards them, they virtually have to drag him there in the first place. Once in the car, Alex stares out of the window, watching paramedics in white carefully put his blonde angel into a body bag. He cries in silence and as the police car drives away, sirens blaring, and he writes one word in the condensation on the inside of the window, while in a trance, not even realising it. He comprehends his action and reads what he has written. The officers in the front hear him say the last word he ever heard to speak again. He whispers, voice infused with love, sadness and bitter pain;

“Jack…”