Now That You're Dead It Hurts
A snippet based off Daddy Issues by The Neighborhood
It was cold. A puff of warm air materialized. Was that his breath?
The distant sound of crying filled the air. That’s sad, hopefully someone is there to help whoever was crying. Maybe he should go comfort them in case no one else does. Who was crying?
He couldn’t bring himself to move.
Could he move?
Who was crying?
Was he cold?
A touch, cold as ice, shocks Apollon back into his body. There are tears streaming down his face as he cries. Why was he crying?
“Are you back with me?” a voice asks. That’s right, there was a hand.
Apollon doesn’t respond. Doesn’t know how to respond. Was he back with them? Where even was ‘back’?
Instead, he lowers the hands covering his face, harsh sunlight temporarily blinding him as he faces what can only be describes as his nightmare: a grave.
His hands shake as his eyes flit over the headstone, taking in as much detail as they could through the tears.
Instead, he whispered to the grave and hopefully the soul it represented, “You know, I didn’t cry when you left at first. I helped get you out. I thought that after I found you again, everything would be fine.
“But now that you're dead it hurts.” A sob wrenched its way out of him. How had it come to this?
“I’m not…” he started, pausing to swallow a lump of emotion before continuing, “I’m not entirely here. Half of me has disappeared.”
The first rays of sunlight started to fall over the cemetery. Light snowflakes joined the abundance on the ground. Cardinals chirped, signifying the start of yet another morning that Apollon would have to spend without the love of his life.
Maybe in another life they could have been making breakfast together. Or maybe they would have spent the morning devouring each other, swallowing the seemingly endless stores of love that they each contained.
“I'd do whatever I could do. I'd run away and hide with you…”
The distant sound of crying filled the air. That’s sad, hopefully someone is there to help whoever was crying. Maybe he should go comfort them in case no one else does. Who was crying?
He couldn’t bring himself to move.
Could he move?
Who was crying?
Was he cold?
A touch, cold as ice, shocks Apollon back into his body. There are tears streaming down his face as he cries. Why was he crying?
“Are you back with me?” a voice asks. That’s right, there was a hand.
Apollon doesn’t respond. Doesn’t know how to respond. Was he back with them? Where even was ‘back’?
Instead, he lowers the hands covering his face, harsh sunlight temporarily blinding him as he faces what can only be describes as his nightmare: a grave.
His hands shake as his eyes flit over the headstone, taking in as much detail as they could through the tears.
[legal name]
“Icarus”
The boy who reached
For the sun,
Burnt and thrown
Into the sea.
May he find the peace
He sought in life.
He could hear retreating footsteps as the person beside him left him to his misery. A scream attempted to crawl its way up Apollon’s throat, but he refused to let it. His suffering was his own, he would not allow the cruel Fates hear it.
Instead, he whispered to the grave and hopefully the soul it represented, “You know, I didn’t cry when you left at first. I helped get you out. I thought that after I found you again, everything would be fine.
“But now that you're dead it hurts.” A sob wrenched its way out of him. How had it come to this?
“I’m not…” he started, pausing to swallow a lump of emotion before continuing, “I’m not entirely here. Half of me has disappeared.”
The first rays of sunlight started to fall over the cemetery. Light snowflakes joined the abundance on the ground. Cardinals chirped, signifying the start of yet another morning that Apollon would have to spend without the love of his life.
Maybe in another life they could have been making breakfast together. Or maybe they would have spent the morning devouring each other, swallowing the seemingly endless stores of love that they each contained.
“I'd do whatever I could do. I'd run away and hide with you…”
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