one more troubled soul » petekey

Twelve

"Look at the sky.
We are not alone.
The whole universe is friendly to us
and conspires only to give the best
to those who dream and work."
- A. P. J. Abdul Kalam

Pete woke up to a pair of feet pushed hard into his back. He rubbed his tired eyes and they adjusted to the image of Ryan, curled between him and Mikey, still covered in dried blood and paint. And whilst he fit perfectly into all their messy lives, Pete desperately wished that he didn't. Life was awful, but it wasn't supposed to be for fifteen year olds. There was something so exceptionally troubling about the youth being destroyed before they could even finish being built.

Pete found himself staring at him so hard that his vision began to blur again. He groaned softly and then adjusted himself, turning away from both the strangers in his bed. He was staring at the other bed, covered in packed and ready to go bags and suitcases. He didn't know if he found it lovely or scary how the three of them were so desperate for connection, they squeezed into one bed and gave the other to a bunch of clothes. And he didn't know if sharing a bed made him feel any less lonely, either. It just reminded him that his bed was going to be lonely again at some point, whether it be the one at home or the one he died in.

Sometimes Pete believed his thinking woke people up, the way they always seemed to stir when he felt himself falling into his own mind. It was Mikey no doubt. His yawn was long and dreary, followed by the sound of a hand smacking the bedside table to find a pair of glasses. He sneezed.

"Bless you," Pete mumbled into the sheets.

"Thank you," the reply came quick, rehearsed, melted into the brain. A moment passed. "Pete? Good morning." His voice was iconically cheery, so unbelievably Mikey. It always sounded like he swished his words in his cheeks like salt water, and let them drip—never spill—like an IV in a hospital. Necessary to live.

Pete finally sat up. "Good morning," he replied drowsily. He peeked shyly at Mikey, admiring his slept on beauty. He looked like a foggy sunset. He smiled softly and adjusted his glasses, even in his groggy state, shattering Pete's little world to pieces. They both looked down at Ryan, who had only barely stirred to Mikey's sneeze. He had managed to fold himself into a ball, his forehead pressed against his knees. At some point in the night his headband had slid over his eyes and his scarf had wrapped itself around his chest. Even the inanimate objects seemed to have a mission to protect him.

"Oryr," Mikey whispered, chuckling. "He's something, isn't he? Such a.. such a good kid. That's all. You just don't see that much." He reached down and gently untangled Ryan from his scarf, then folded it and set in on his lap, smoothing it in a relaxing pattern. His compassion was spilling from his fingertips.

"Yeah," Pete agreed. "It was really good what you did last night. Getting him out of here. He couldn't have asked for a better guardian angel," he finished, flashing a smile at him, toothy and animated. Only a sliver of guilt was making itself known in the back of his mind. The rest was being pushed out and the butterflies were flying in, their little wings causing tornadoes and oh boy, Mikey was making them spin.

Mikey blushed and looked away, clearly embarrassed by the flattery. "We both did that, Pete. We both helped him out. We're a team, remember? We became one the day I got into your car." He took Ryan's scarf and playfully whipped it at Pete. It smacked him lightly in the cheek. "You don't get to be a loner anymore, no matter how bad you wanna. And I'm sure Ryan would agree."

Pete felt himself getting warm. He wished life was just full of sunny mornings and nothing else. No sun to go down to bring the darkness and the suicidal thoughts, and no closing hours of the bars that bring alcoholic fathers home. No afternoon to take away the breakfast choices at restaurants and no moon to push you into bed so you had to close your eyes and never see your loved ones and instead see nightmares. Sure, there would be no stars in the sky to look at except the sun, but that would just mean you'd have to go find them in your friends and family.