Life After Death

Sleep had been a sweet escape for a couple of hours, but reality hit me harder than ever as soon as my eyes opened. It was like they’d opened to so much more than just my empty bedroom. I think I finally realised that Jimmy was really gone. He was gone and he was never coming back. He’d left us, through his own goddamn stupidity and we were all left behind to pick up the pieces of our lives; but how do you piece something back together when a vital part is missing though? It’s impossible, you’re just left with a gaping hole in the middle of it all. I still missed him so much that it made my whole body ache, but there was a sharp edge to it now, a resentment at being the one who was stuck with the pain. None of us really knew what had happened.
Why had he done it? Did he mean to do it? Did he suffer?
The bitter part of me that I was trying my hardest to suffocate with shame was whispering in the back of my mind - maybe I wanted him to have suffered, to feel the pain I was feeling now. The thought felt like it sliced open my skin. My own mind was against me, not just sticking the knife in, but twisting it for maximum agony. I felt guilty, and yet the angry hurt still flooded through me, hating Jimmy for going somewhere without me - somewhere that I couldn’t follow. I closed my eyes and realised that I’d never felt as alone in my life as I did at this moment. And this was before I’d even given a thought to the woman I’d left in the hospital earlier… Right now, I hated her too. She’d picked a fine moment to crack up. The time that I wanted to check out of life for a while, the time that I needed to; and she’d stolen the chance right away from me. Somehow, after everything, I was the one that had been literally left holding the baby. At a time where I felt I could barely function through my grief, I was suddenly responsible for caring for a tiny thing that could do nothing for itself. Where was I going to find the strength to do all of this? I slid myself out of bed, hoping that I might find some of it downstairs in the presence of my brothers.

They had been talking softly, but all looked up as I entered the lounge. Jimmy was snuggled in Johnny’s arms, fast asleep and content. An empty bottle was on the table. Perhaps, I thought, rather sheepishly, I should have given them a little more credit.
“You get some sleep?” Matt asked, eyeing my crooked mouth and irate expression with uncertainty.
“Yeah,” I replied, flatly. I wasn’t really in the mood to talk. Coffee and solitude was calling me, so I headed alone to the kitchen. I put a pot on to brew and leaned over the counter on my elbows, staring out the window at the pool. There had been so many parties at this house, and you didn’t have to be a rocket scientist to work out who was the life of them. A thousand memories swam through my head as I filled my mug. He was always first in the pool, shouting at everyone else to join him even though it was only 7pm and it was fucking cold. He always made sure everyone had a drink in their hand. He always made sure everyone had a good time. And now he’d thrown it all away. Thrown away his talent, his family, his whole life. He threw away our friendship.

The mug shattered as I launched it at the floor, trying to drown out the thoughts in my mind with the crash. I felt like my heart was twisting in my chest, making the lump in my throat pulse as tears pooled in my eyes. Did I mean that little to him that he’d not given it a thought before doing something so selfish?
A gentle voice came from the kitchen doorway. Zach had appeared, obviously alerted by the smash.
“You need help cleaning that up?” he asked. I turned away, unable to speak to anyone. I was embarrassed by my lack of control over my feelings and ashamed that I was harbouring such unkindness towards Jimmy. I heard Zacky sweeping up the pieces of the mug, quietly. I turned back to face him, my heart aching.
“He took a part of me with him, Z. I’ll never get it back and I don’t know how I’ll ever be the same again,” I blurted out, as tears slid down my face. “How could he do this to us?”
Zacky stopped sweeping, but he didn’t look up as he spoke softly, “I don’t know. I ask myself every day if this is real life or some shitty nightmare that I can’t wake up from. Sometimes I think it’s both, that real life is a shitty nightmare,” he said, grimly. He finally looked up at me, also tearful. “You’re not alone in this, Brian.”
“No, we’re all alone,” I countered, “because Jimmy’s fucked off and left us here. I need him, Zach. Right now I need him so badly and he’s not here.” I felt my resolve completely crumble, my face twisting as the painful, all-consuming grief smothered me.
“I know, man,” was all he could utter in reply as he sat next to the mess that he hadn’t managed to clean up. I blinked my eyes hard, trying to will the feeling away.
“I’m so pissed with him right now,” I admitted, quietly. “I can’t help but just fucking hate him for it. He’s been my best friend for nearly my whole life, and then he just checks out with no explanation? He snuffed out his lamp and left me in the fucking dark by myself. I just feel so lost, and I can’t figure out where I am, or where I'm supposed to go now.”
We both went quiet, mulling over my words. Zacky gave up sweeping and instead poured two cups of coffee and pulled two cigarettes out of his pack, holding one out to me. I grabbed what he was offering and we took ourselves outside.

The cigarettes gave us something else to concentrate on, a merciful distraction from the emotional rubble and debris that Jimmy had left behind him. It was a welcomed silence, broken only by the rhythmic whispering from the distant ocean. Even that was tainted though, for Jimmy had filled every silence, at least until his final one, which so far had been deafening.
“I can’t believe I’ll never hear his voice again,” I said, numbly. Zacky was thoughtful for a moment.
“We can,” he replied, oddly. I looked at him in confusion, and he continued. “At the Christmas party, the night he… you know… He told me that he was working on a song. He’d laid a demo down, wanted us all to hear it, see what we thought.”
“What?” I spluttered, trying to comprehend Zacky’s words.
“A demo for Nightmare,” he reiterated, puffing out a cloud of smoke. “He sent it to me along with some lyrics on a screwed up piece of paper, but I never listened or read it, or told you guys. Everything felt so raw that I just couldn’t bring myself to acknowledge it.”
“And he’s on it?” I questioned, my heart almost stopping. Zach nodded, turning his eyes downwards.
“It’s called ‘Death’. I mean, how are we supposed to listen to that now?” He asked, his voice wobbling slightly. The word felt like a gunshot. I could see where he was coming from. It felt less like a blessing, now that he’d revealed the title. I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear Jimmy’s dark mind’s workings in this instance, but we owed it to him.
“We have to listen,” I murmured, my voice almost a whisper. “I need to hear it. I’m not ready to let go of him yet.”
Jimmy had left my world void of colour when he’d gone, perhaps this demo would give me some of that back, however morbidly titled it was.

Notes

Poor, sad Brian :(
And poor Aubrey, will she ever get to have to POV ever again? Brian's kind of taken over here!

Apologies, this is a slightly short update - even by my low standards lol! Very little sleep thanks to a sick toddler makes for a hard time writing! Ugh. The creative juices are not flowing very well today, even after unthinkable amounts of coffee.