My Haunted Immortal

Burning I shouldn’t be burning. I’m water, wild and free. Fire can’t even touch me Without sizzling and dying. So why am I burning? DAMNIT! Baby, stay with me! Nonono! NO! Stay awake! NO you CAN’T sleep! No the ambulance will be here soon! C’mon baby boy! Just a few more minutes Then you’ll be all better, k? Sobs and screams break the uneasy silence The shattering man holds his dying lover Blood pools unnaturally underneath in the drenching rain All caused by the paling figure laying prone in his love’s arms, life leeching ever so slowly out of once vibrant turquoise eyes. Death is cruel to all indiscriminately. Why can’t I feel anything? Wait…..Why is my face wet? Why is the rest of me wet for that matter? Alec….where’s Alec? He was here, But now I can’t see him… I can’t see anything… Who’s holding me? The shattering man’s mind is racing, Thoughts bounding around his head at breakneck speeds, Frenzying his mind even more, Though his slackening body shows no sign of this fervent activity. As blood continues its killing pilgrimage from slowing heart to soaked ground, The sobbing man, Alec, mumbles “Demitri”, Like a record skipping or a CD left on repeat for too long, Against rain-slicked sandalwood tresses, Petting the cooling face obsessively As a young child would the family cat or dog. “Ah…Ah…Alec…?” The barely audible uttering snaps Alec’s attention Away from his oncoming misery and sorrow To solely focus on Demitri, Who is fighting to open his eyes and reclaim some color That the deserting crimson liquid is stealing with it. “Demitri,” Alec practically prays! “Stay with me ok, Mitri? Helps coming, help’ll be here soon, k? You’ll be ok. You’ll be ok.” Even as his own wounds make themselves known With each hellish raindrop that strikes one, Especially the burns under his eyes, Alec refuses to acknowledge them, Instead focusing on the waning soul draped limply in his arms. Though he instinctively knows Demitri will not make it out of this one alive, That does not stop him from pleading. C’MON, FIGHT IT DEMITRI!! YOU’VE GOTTA FIGHT IT! I CAN’T DO THIS ALONE! PLEASE DEMTRI, PLEASE!!!! DO IT FOR ROXIE, FOR ZEKE, FOR SORA, FOR RIKU FOR ME! I DON’T CARE WHO YOU DO IT FOR, JUST FIGHT IT! DEMITRI!! Why is someone yelling at me? I only asked for Alec. Why can’t they find him? Why am I in pain? OH FU……unnh! That wasn’t there a moment ago! Alec! Alec! Alec, where are you!! Oh no. Why can’t I speak? Alec grips Demitri tighter and tighter as he slips farther and farther away. Sirens can be heard now, Though they are still too far away to save Demitri in time. He’s breaking down completely At just the thought of telling Demetri’s “brothers” and “sisters” How their “older brother” died, Soaked in rain at an abandoned cargo dock from a through-and-through gunshot Delivered by bigoted homophobes who he had never met before. It is in that moment, Amongst the symphony of flaring sirens, slow and fast thudding of hearts and din of heavy rain, That Alec takes a vow of silence. Demitri was the only one who ever had brought him out of his shell, And now without him, Alec did not see the need for a voice. He breaks his vow twice, Once now as Demitri nears his life’s end, Whispering “I love you” filled with love and sealed with a kiss to the forehead, And later when he repeats the previous break, kissing the hard, gray tombstone instead of soft, ashen flesh. By the time the police and paramedics arrive, Alec has drawn so far into himself that they assume he was dead too, Until Leo, a paramedic and Alec’s friend, approaches to separate him and Demitri, the eerie, slow turning of Alec’s head to face Leo sending shivers up everyone present’s spines. Except for the whispered instance at Demitri’s funeral, Alec never speaks again until the day he dies himself, A serene smile and “Demitri” falling off his lips As the light fades from his eyes completely. Suddenly, screaming pierces the air, Eerie and ethereal in its presence, Their maker bolting up right in bed, Covered in sweat, breath shooting out like the rapid fire of a machine gun. As though the shattering shrieks are routine, A second figure sits up with a groan, Pulling the slightly larger person to them, Whispering sweet nothings. “Was it that dream again, Alec?” At Alec’s silent nod, The second figure nods and sighs, Holding Alec closer. “You know it’s not real right? That it didn’t happen.” “But it could have, Demitri, it could have.” A broken whisper pierces the air. Demitri sighs and cups Alec’s hand with his own, Bringing the trembling hand to rest Just below Demitri’s right shoulder, Where the scar of the bullet resides, A permanent reminder of what could have happened. Now I ask you, Is your homophobic or bigoted comment worth something like this happening? Is insulting a part of someone they have no control over worth devastation and death? I would think not. So the next time you want to say anything that could lead to a hate crime Like the one described above, I would advise you not to, Lest you become the next victim of hateful words.