I shouldn't be starting a new story now. I already have three
incomplete ones. But it appears inspiration is an inconveniencing bitch.
She wouldn't leave me the hell alone until I started typing. I shouldn't
post it, but my ego demands it. I think they're working together. Little
bastards. Anyway, I hope you like it.
And now the story.
More Than Wrong
I died a horrible and painful death today. My soul was ripped from my body
by Fate's cold, cruel hands. My blood is now ice. My heart, an obsidian
stone. I am broken and bleeding, overwhelmed with pain no one could
possibly comprehend. And yet my life goes on. I still live and breathe. My
heart still beats though I wish it didn't. My life goes on. Why? Why do I
live while he dies? Why wasn't I taken, too?
"Is something wrong, Will?" my boss asks ignorantly. "What did that
police officer want?"
Yes! I want to scream. My world was just destroyed by a sixteen-year-
old kid. I'd say something is more than wrong.
"I just found out my best friend died." I reply quietly. "I'll need
some time off."
"Geez. Of course. Take all the time you need." He says
sympathetically. "You can leave now if you want."
"Thank you, sir." I say, standing and gathering my things.
"Call me if you need anything." He says, placing a hand on my
You couldn't possibly give me what I need.
"I will, sir." I reply. He pats me gently on the shoulder then walks
away to continue his life. Not knowing that I'm a torn and broken man. Not
knowing that my reason for living is no longer living. "Oh God, Alex." I
whisper brokenly. I'd better leave before I breakdown in my office in full
view of my co- workers. They probably have a rule against that.
Alex. My beautiful Alex is gone.
I'm running through the building now. Trying to reach the outside. He
loves-loved being outside. He loved the blue of the sky, the white of the
clouds, all the myriad of colors that surrounded you when you're outside.
He died outside, surrounded by those colors.
Down the stairs, into the lobby, and finally outside. The same
outside that watched him die.
I have to keep running. If I stop I'll have to feel the pain. I'll
have to accept that he's gone. I can't do that. I can never do that. My
life, my love, my happiness will go with him when I accept. I can't accept.
I must never accept. So, I run.
I can feel my heart beating, and I rejoice in it. Because if my heart
is beating then he is alive because my heart only beats for him. I run
harder so my heart will beat faster and stronger. I ignore the tears
running down my face because they are tears of joy not pain. They have to
I've run all the way home, and I don't know how. My home is miles
from work. I frantically search through my pockets for my keys. I want to
get inside to see him, to see his smile and hear his voice. Finally finding
them I unlock the door and throw it open.
"Alex!" I call. "Alex! Where are you?"
Reality comes crashing down, and my life, my love, and my happiness
is crushed beneath it.
I can't believe I wrote that. Review please. I've never written
anything like that.