I'm right here Kristen, I'm okay...
My feet steadily made their way down the hot New Jersey concrete to a place now near and dear to my heart. After all, I visited it every day lately. Once at the rusted, iron gate I slipped off my shoes and walked bare foot in the grass-patched dirt and sat down, resting my head on the headstone with my sister's name on it. I traced the last name Brooks engraved in the marble. It was just so unbelievably hard to imagine Ana lying right below me. Buried in a gorgeous powder blue silk dress, she looked stunning. She looked stunning for Gerard. They were meant for each other.
I looked over at his headstone resting under the shade of the old oak tree in the cemetery and tears started to well up in my eyes. Tears that didn't come when I thought about Ana. As hard as it is to believe, I feel like I know Gerard more than I know my own sister, or knew for that matter, regardless of the week I spent with him. I walked over to his grave, the sun hitting the stone through the tree branches in just the right spot to make it gleam, and sank down to my knees fully absorbed in sobs.
I really did love him, if not in a romantic way then in a family sort of way. He just didn't return the feeling and that was something I would have to live with. But what could I do now that he's gone? I dug my fingernails into the dirt and started upturning the soil in a feeble attempt at unburying him and undoing all this pain. He was there, feet away but eternities away at the same time.
I pulled myself up off the ground and leaned against the tombstone, still unsteady from all the crying. It just wasn't fair that he was gone and even though I think about him every day, I still couldn't shake this feeling of guilt that I had. Was it me telling him that I loved him that pushed him over the edge? I should have been there for him, seen the signs. I just wish I could take it back.
I walked over to the fountain in the center of the cemetery and leaned against the old, rough bench. This was my spot, I sat here everyday and just watched the water glide over the globe-like metal so peacefully. It reminded me so much of the first night when Gerard came to my house and sat on my couch crying. I missed having him here with me. I wanted so badly to have him here to mourn with me. Heavy raindrops pelted my skin through my thin black shirt and ominous storm clouds thundered above me.
Almost everything I owned now was black; I honestly don't think I will ever get over the mourning process. I walked back to the gate slowly, enjoying the temporary pain and sting that the rain caused. It was easy to see why emotional people cut their wrists after a loss or depression, the pain is comforting to me. I reached down into the pocket of my faded grey jeans and pulled out a silver key, glistening wet. It was the key to Gerard's house, and Mikey thought I should have it. Why does everyone feel the need to give me things that they feel too emotional to keep a hold of? He said he had just given it to me so I would have a place to stay while in New Jersey, but honestly I had been staying in a hotel the past month. Doesn't he realize how hard it is to go back in there?
I didn't want to go in there, but today I knew I had to. Nobody has been in there since he died and I had no real desire to be the first. I had a feeling that I would be though. Now that I was soaked all the way through my clothes, I walked up to the ever so familiar door and slid the key in the deadbolt. Spiders and other ugly bugs surrounded the door, as if waiting to get in but I just brushed them away.
It was so hard to turn the key, I had only been in his house once before. It was very big, dark green paint adorning the Victorian-style architecture and peeling in places as well as shingles falling off the roof. But besides its spooky feel, it really was a beautiful house. Almost straight out of a horror film, you know the ones with ghosts and spirits from the dead? It figures he'd live here though, it suits him. I cracked the door open and slipped inside. It was nothing like I thought it might be, but at the same time was. There were several papers yellowed with age of lyrics and songs scattered loosely across the floor. I picked them up and set them on the table before I came across an envelope with my name on it.
Please don't cry for me as I am the most undeserving of your sympathy right now. I don't regret what I did, I only regret leading you on before doing so. I was already numb on the inside, I have felt enough pain to know that what I did wouldn't hurt near as bad. Thank you for talking me in and I apologize for making you suffer through this, believe me that was the last thing I intended for. I would never want to hurt you and I hope you understand that. I knew Mikey would give you the key to my house if he didn't end up killing himself first, and if you're reading this I know he didn't. No one ever had much nice to say to me, and I think they never liked me anyway, so what does it matter? I knew you'd find this letter because curiosity would eventually lead you here. Don't you worry for a second about me though, I'm okay, I promise. I am watching you from here so now wipe those tears away and put on some of my dry clothes upstairs. Where's your pink shirt, by the way? Black isn't your color. And while you're getting changed make yourself a cup of coffee and grab a blanket. Just know I am right next to you now, Kris, and I can see you...
Love always, Gerard
I dropped the letter quickly and got a cold chill, sending shivers down my spine.
"G-Gerard?" I whispered.
"Shh, I'm right here, Kris. Right here."
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