10 - watch me shatter as i fall. (the boy on the bridge, encore.)
~
[ "a friend gave me an old polaroid camera today," george hummed through the tape recorder. dream looked up from his school paperwork, an odd look crossing his face at the - seemingly, normal - statement. ]
a few days went on and the conversation sapnap had with sally was almost out of george's mind - he was sure it didn't matter to him, but curiousity lingered within the depths of his mind, and to be frank - george was concerned about the well-being of his newfound friend. the old polaroid camera sat still on his bedside table, and the brit stared at it - thinking, contemplating.
{ "wait, there were older ones?" dream asked, recording an answer of his own. }
george, with gentle hands, lifted the old camera from the old, bedside table - cinnamon the bunny was leaning on the side of the camera, and once it was on george's hands - cinnamon helplessly flopped over, making the brit laugh lightly. he checked the film cartridge, only to see it filled. and with hesitant hands - george turned it on and took a picture of himself.
[ "i was thinking, if we can send each other pictures? if you're not comfortable, then, i understand - i'll send you a picture either way." ]
as the film developed, the camera - although old - perfectly captured the late summer simmer, as well as the thick, air which smelled permanently of honey and cinnamon. and in the middle of the picture was george, underneath the golden hour's blessings, a trail of pink and red dusting his cheeks and nose from the cold air.
the cold doesn't bother him, or, for now - it doesn't.
{ "i'm excited to see you, georgie. and, i can never be uncomfortable with you - it's physically impossible for you to make me uncomfortable." dream spoke, his tone gentle and full of adoration for the brit's silly antics. }
-
"i'm sorry for your loss." the doctor spoke. five words cutting through the cold air. "we did everything we could, but-"
karl sobbed, clutching his significant other's hand within his own, and mixing tears with the faint, dried blood that coated the hand within his. the brunette let out heartbreaking wails after the doctor left the hospital room. it was a stupid drunk driver, a bunch of teenagers slammed into his beloved's old car. the raindrops fell heavily on the hospital roof, and the ambient noise did nothing to comfort him. karl knows what he has to do, and he has to do it correctly - the brunette hasn't done it before, but there's a small room for error that might just cost him his life.
a few hours have passed, and he heard that his significant other's relative was to be transferred within a nursing home - plaque entered the older man's brain like dust caking the insides of a record player. karl rushed into their - his, house, running downstairs to the basement where his significant other wasn't allowed to go into. and inside the basement was a ton of bookshelves surrounding the room, a single book - which collected dust and grime throughout the years - sat on an old table in the middle of the room, but no matter how dusty the book was - the spiral on the book's hard cover glowed in the dark, and when karl entered the room, it only seemed to glow brighter.
karl walked to the middle of the room, opening the book, his fingers running over the old pages and the faded ink, he let out a long breath, but was cut off by his own sobs. his figure crumbled in front of the table, as karl kept mumbling his lover's name underneath his breath like an old chant to cure his heartache.
"i have to do this." karl mumbled, standing up. he ignored his shaking hands as he opened the book again after it had closed when he went too far. "focus, think straight, let's change the past." he said, sure of himself. and so, he began, muttering the remains of a dead, ancient language - the sharp words hanging off of his lips as his eyes rolled into the back of his head, the candles above the bookshelves burned and dripped onto the spines of the books stored within the wooden walls of the shelf. the air around him blew the loose leaves of paper scattered around the basement floor. the words from within the books hummed as the book within karl's hands opened and turned rapidly.
the humming got louder, the voices got even more aggressive than before. and when karl was done - the room exploded, everything within it shattered and destroyed - including himself. his presence was shattered across space and time, and it made a tiny little hole on the fabric; the sharp, jagged pieces of his identity cut through skin and flower petals - making the arms of clock stop rotating continuosly like water passing through fingertips.
his significant other was alive, but everyone forgot about him. well, everyone forgot about him except for the two people he has wronged.
when karl woke up, everything hurts, and he stared blankly ahead of him as he sat on the bridge. he found, that no matter where he went, no matter how many times he jumped - karl always ended up back on the bridge. he was alone for a very long time, until;
{ "hey!" he heard a voice in the distance, looking behind him - he saw a blond haired boy with forest green eyes. "are you alright? how 'bout we walk off the edge and go for a drive?" he offered. }
and another, a little later.
[ "hey! would you mind stepping off the edge?" george asked, the boy looked up at him, with his puffy, red rimmed eyes and tear streaked face. "come on, let's talk." the brit begged, desperation bleeding into his voice. ]
it was his fault. everything was karl's fault, and he couldn't do anything but just sit there and stare. he couldn't even hold his lover within his arms, for the other boy forgot about him.
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