Baby steps ∽『boy ✮ boy -EDITED

Thirty-third 👣-edited

Triggering content ahead!

     Everything seemed to be crying...The hinges of the rusty gate, the crows twirling menacingly in the air, even the black dressed people clustering in front of the grave.

Something rose to my throat, and I didn't know if it was bile or my heart trying to burst out of my chest. With reluctant steps I approached the horde of people, looking down, not trusting my eyes to not betray my sorrow... even though we all shared the same pain today.

I passed everyone silently, hands touching me and squeezing my shoulders reassuringly even though their contact felt like nothing but claws to me... tearing through my clothes like the hysteria tore through my heart. He wasn't dead. He was just sleeping. We had to get him out of there before he woke up into a dark, cold coffin. I couldn't leave him alone again. I couldn't let them burry him still alive. The hysteric thought made me walk faster, prying the hands away from my black blazer and pushing the mourning people out of my way.

Then I finally reached it... the tombstone on which was written his name "In the memory of a loving son, friend and lover-"

"Carter Matvey." I whispered, feeling the whole world crashing down on my shoulders.

I stood still, tears falling silently down my cheeks. It hurt... it hurt so fucking much. He was really gone, laying alone into a box of darkness under heavy layers of dirt as if he was nothing but a mere name written on a stone... this gravestone being the only shadow he will ever be able to leave on this Earth from now on.

A sob left my mouth and I closed my eyes, feeling the world spin around me. Memories with Carter flooded my mind and so did the pain traveling through my veins. I crossed my hands around my chest, shivering from the cold engulfing my heart.

Then I opened my eyes and everyone was gone...everyone and everything except the tombstone on which now was written not Carter's but Simon's name.

I backed away, looking at the piece of rock in horror. The sounds of steps could be heard from the distance so I turned around. There was no one behind me though. Instead of a person it was another tombstone, this one covered in poison ivy.

Horror took over my senses and I began ripping apart the plant, ignoring the reddening of my palms. I had a very bad feeling.

When the plant was entirely gone I looked at the name written in Italic letters, feeling my heart abuse my ribcage once again: Ivy Morris.

I shook my head, stepping away. This wasn't real, this didn't ha-

My leg bumped onto something, my body jumping involuntarily and head tilting to look at the foreign object. It was another tombstone, on this one being written my own name.

I gulped, stretching my hand to touch the stone. It was cold to the touch and it drew a gasp out of me, an electric sensation making me close my eyes. When I opened them again I was soaked in a pitch, suffocating murk, my fingertips touching a wooden surface... the wooden surface of a coffin.

I was the one buried alive.

I closed my eyes tightly, starting to hit my fists against the wooden lid as my throat closed up, preventing me from calling for help. I started to claw at the coffin and then at my face, landing slap after slap on my chest and face.

"Ouch!" I sat up, feeling my cheeks burn.

On my chest was sitting a little guy, two teeth stretching into an otherwise toothless smile.

"Monin'!" giggled Ollie, slapping my cheeks softly once again before crossing his hands around my neck and nuzzling his cheek on my chest. I kissed his forehead and hugged him tighter.

"Good morning, Ollie."

I sighed, checking the clock before getting out of the bed and going to brush my teeth, Ollie still clung to my arm. I had a few hours before I had to go to Carter's house.

I had a horrible nightmare and my head was pounding. Carter, Simon and Ivy, they were all alive.

Three months had passed since that day. Simon was unfortunately in a coma, the doctor not giving him any chances of regaining consciousness. What I heard from Ivy was that his parents wanted to disconnect him from the life support. My brother was heartbroken.

Carter on the other side was still recovering from his surgery. I remember that day vividly.

We were waiting in front of the operation room for what felt like ages. The one hour surgery turned to be two, three, then five hours long. The world got engulfed by darkness and the waiting room by silence, the only sound ringing against my eardrums being the loud whizzing of my thoughts.

I should have kept my promise. What if Carter's surgery had complications because our call ended so brusquely and he felt distressed before entering the operation? I should have come here directly after my lectures, but I couldn't leave Ivy and Aubrey alone... God knows what Jason would have done to them.

I was still lost in my thoughts when the doctors came out and announced Carter was finally out of the operation and we could go see him. The Matvey husbands walked into the room first and I followed them closely, feeling the color drain from my face as I saw Carter's lifeless body lying on the bed, different kind of tubes protruding his body.

And his legs... they've been amputated from the knees down.

When Carter woke up, he's been wrecked. I spent all my free time in the hospital, sometimes just staying in the waiting room because he needed time to be alone and I was too worried something would happen if I left. A few days after his surgery, he broke down, crying and clinging to me. It hurt to see him like that, calling himself disgusting, telling me to leave, saying how I will be unable to love him after I saw his legs... I told him he was as handsome as ever and that my love for him grew tenfold. He was a survivor. His scars were a proof of the battle he fought and won.

My words were as good as silence though. He didn't want to believe me.

Now he undertook physical and mental rehabilitation, the doctors waiting for his mental health to improve so he could start an extensive course of physiotherapy in order to be able to get prosthetics. It was a good thing, Carter could walk again. However, he didn't have the motivation to start physiotherapy. He was always locked inside his room, wanting to be left alone.

Things were not getting any better now, three months after his surgery either. Yesterday, Carter said he preferred dying to living with a body as "disgusting" as his. It broke my heart to hear those words so I left the room in order to stop myself from breaking down in front of him. He needed me to be strong for him.

What I didn't expect though was for Carter to misinterpret my actions as anger. He thought I was feed up with him and wanted to leave him. We got into a huge fight and Carter stopped talking to me.

Now I was back at the Matvey's residence, ready to have a good talk with Carter and show him I am willing to stay by his side.

I closed the entrance door, the house being oddly silent, sign Carter's dads already left for work.

"Carter?" I called my boyfriend's name, taking my shoes off and walking towards his room.

There was no response whatsoever.

"Carter?" I tried again, being able to see Carter's room. His door was closed and there was no sound coming out from the other side.

I felt something churn in the pit of my stomach and when I turned the doorknob, the uneasiness intensified.

"Carter, are you okay? What are you doing?" I asked as I pushed on the door, becoming overly anxious when it didn't budge.

The door was locked.