Nightspell || Michael Clifford

Chapter 31

I woke up to the sound of birds chirping and the sun shining on my face.
For a blissful, drowsy second I think I'm still on Nightspell. Still in the cabin.
But then I felt the cold tiles underneath my legs, the hard cabinets behind my head and as I opened my eyes, reality settled in.
Leaving a big, empty gap in my chest.
My body felt heavy, my eyes swollen and tired.
I should get up. Go see Michael and tell him everything.
But why would I? What does it matter? He wouldn't be able to turn back time or change how I felt.
I grabbed my legs and pulled them against my chest. My mind felt numb, replaying old memories like a broken record.
From here I had a perfect view of the pool in the backyard. Somehow still looking as clean as ever.
When I needed to strengthen my leg muscles, my physical therapist had suggested I start swimming.
So my mom had hired someone to help me swim. In our own pool. Because she didn't trust the filters and pool guys in public swimming pools.
I had hated it at the time, but a smile now sits on my face.
Alex and I had spent countless hours every summer sitting by the pool. Sometimes we would have short, meaningful conversations. But usually, I sat with my feet in the pool, reading a book. While Alex sat in one of the lounge chairs and played some videogames on his Nintendo switch.
On rare occasions, we would both lay down on lounge chairs and look at the sky. Trying to see who could look directly at the sun the longest without blinking, or hitting each other with pool noodles.
Each memory slowly played in my head, leaving me feeling more hollowed out and empty every time.
Tears continuously well up in my eyes, blocking my view and forcing me back to reality.
Slowly, I decided to stand up and get a glass of water.
A cloud of dust floats away in the sun as I open the cupboard and fill my glass, the small particles dancing like they had something to celebrate.
The thought takes me back to the parties that had been thrown in this house. The seemingly endless dinners with dad's friends or mom's colleagues. The birthdays.
My chest aches as I try to hold back more tears without much luck. My whole body feels like giving in and sitting back down on the floor. Never getting up again.
But part of me didn't want to give in. part of me wanted to walk around the house, see my own bedroom, and Alex's. I wanted to curl up in all the memories, make them last forever.
I also wanted to push them away, forget they were ever there at all because how could I ever go on knowing that they will never see any of it? What good are memories when all they bring is pain?
Forcing myself to take a deep breath, I wipe away my tears and look up, I gulp down the water and stumble to the living room. Leaving my broken leg brace on the floor in the kitchen.
Images of memories keep flashing in my mind, my father sitting in his usual spot on the couch, my mother making a phonecall as she walks along the floor-to-ceiling windows that look out over the backyard, Alex sitting on the kitchen island, talking to Steven as he made him breakfast.
It was too much. Too painful. I set my glass down on the table and sink back to the floor, resting my back against the couch. Pulling my legs up to my chest again, I let myself fall to the side. My heart torn to shreds, my lungs fighting for air as the memories keep going and the pain keeps coming.
but however painful it was, I didn't want it to stop. 
It was all I had left of them. 
I close my eyes and don't realize I have fallen asleep until I open them again and it's getting dark outside.
My stomach grumbles but I ignore it as I slowly stand up and stumble to my own bedroom. 
I avoid looking at Alex's bedroom door as I pass it but the memories come anyway. 
The walls in his room had started out white but he had been painting and drawing things on them until he was satisfied. 
The strange mix of pokemon drawings and superhero paintings still fresh in my memory. 
The bed he refused to make, the desk he refused to clean because he liked it messy. 
I was standing in front of my own bedroom door and opened it without thinking. 
The floor-to-ceiling windows in the living room extended all the way to my bedroom, allowing an abundance of light to fill the room during the day. 
My bed was the only thing I had eyes for, the only thing I wanted to feel. I didn't bother grabbing the brand new leg brace that sat in my closet. Didn't bother looking around, remembering the time I had spent in here. I couldn't even be bothered to look at the books that I always loved to read. 
As I laid down in the bed, more dust flew up. I didn't care. 
If I would lay here long enough maybe it would consume me, make me part of the dance they performed with every gust of wind. 
Maybe it would make me stop feeling so much. Maybe it would help me forget.

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A/N:

I learned yesterday that my birthday is also the birthday of Pokemon. I'm the exact same age as pokemon. 
I think that's pretty cool.