Page 105 of Poems He Wrote

“Oh… Do you have any idea where he might be?”

“Work. Where else?” She shrugs as I wipe my tears from my cheeks. “That boy is gonna work himself into an early grave, I tell you.”

I nod my head thanking her, but she stops me by grabbing my hand as I try to step away from the door. I look at her and she smiles gently at me.

“Do you want something dry to put on, sweety? It’s a cold night out there,” she says, waving her hand to the big hall windows.

“I am okay, thank you. I need to go find him,” I say, already running down the stairs.

The snow keeps falling on me like it’s getting paid to do so, and wind slices across my thin, wet blouse. I keep running, foot after foot, crunching the kilometers between his apartment and his store. I wheeze and cough, trying my best not to let the weather and tiredness slow me down.

I need to get to him. I need to see him, to let him know it was all real. He needs to know he was more than enough. He was everything.

He is everything.

A neon sign on the glass door reads ‘closed’ in raging red letters. I try opening it either way, but of course, I find it locked. Pressing my hands to the surface, I bring my face closer and take a good look inside. No lights are on. My heart beats harder in my chest, the worry taking over. Where is he?

I wipe the fog on the glass, squinting my eyes, trying to sharpen my sight the best I can, but still, it looks empty.

I walk around the building, looking behind every few steps that I take, hoping no boogie-man jumps out from the darkness and kills me on the spot.

The backdoor is left slightly ajar, making the rain pour in, and the light from the inside spill out. I press my palm to it, pushing it, feeling the warmth embrace me immediately, but as the door falls open, the world around me switches to slow motion.

“NOAH!!!” A scream ripples from my chest as I hurry inside, my brain in overdrive as flashbacks of my childhood consume my whole being. My knees hit the floor with a loud thud next to his lifeless-looking body sprawled out on the floor. His skin is as pale as ash, his lips are dry and cracked. I grab his face, wiping my shaky hand across it, meeting the coldness and the clamminess of it.

I slowly lift his upper body, trying to turn him over onto his side. He keeps slipping from my wet hands as I cry out into the night.

“Please, please open your eyes!” I whisper to him, shaking his shoulders, trying to pull the phone out of my pocket and call an ambulance. “Please, baby, don’t give up on me. I need you.”

37

Ocean Eyes - Billie Eilish

Ronan

I cradle his head in my lap, wiping the sweat of his face as my phone refuses to turn on. The water must have soaked through and broken the damn thing. As tears keep running down my face, I silently pray to the universe that Noah stays alive long enough for the ambulance to get here.

I bend down and kiss his face before standing up to look around the room for his phone. Every second I look back to him, not wanting to miss any change in his state or behavior.

I grab the phone from the desk, clicking the tiny side button, expecting the screen to light up, but it stays black. I feel the earth beneath my feet give out and swallow me whole. It’s turned off. I run back to Noah, my knees hitting the ground. As my fingers squeeze tightly around the phone, an empty battery sign flashes on the screen.

Fuck. Fuck.FUCK!

A gurgled sound comes out of Noah’s throat as his body convulses and some kind of seizure takes over. I throw the device to the floor, trying to hold him still, watching his mouth and the position of his tongue, making sure he can’t choke. How did this even happen?

Another hard wave of shakes hits, making his body kick into me, harsher than a moment ago, and then it suddenly stops. Everything stops. His head falls back, his shoulders and arms go limp inside of mine, and his chest stops moving.

Horror consumes all of my senses. He’s not breathing.

I flip him over onto his back with my trembling hands and start pressing hard onto the lower part of his breastbone.

Press, press, press…but nothing happens.

“One, two, three.” I pump, and pump, as tears keep falling down my chin. “Come on, baby! Please!”

Nothing.

“Noah! Please!” I bend down, pinching his nose, and opening his mouth, bringing my own onto them and blowing hard. His chest moves, but again, he doesn’t wake up.

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