The Star.
"My mom used to tell me to look to the stars whenever we lost someone. She believed that whenever you looked at the night sky, that the brightest star up there was them looking down on us. I hope it's true, or else I'm here for no reason."
Jethro was laying on his back in damp grass, his orange eyes staring up into the clear night sky, focusing on the brightest star he could find. His cheeks were flush, his eyes were full of water- tears on the brink of rolling down his porcelain skin. He wore sweatpants and shoes. His shirt tossed aside. One of his hands rested above his head as the other absentmindedly traced the blue ink on his skin. He laughed bitterly, biting down on his tongue as he blinked the tears away.
"I miss you… more than you could know. You had big plans for your life. You were going to make a difference in this fucked up place. Instead I'm here and I have nothing to give. Why couldn't you just save yourself? Did you have to lay down your life for me like that?"
He paused, drawing in a deep breath as he tried to keep himself composed. His heart heavily thudded in his chest, each pulse was loud, drowning out the sound of the crickets chirping all around him. His eyes were full of tears again, and this time he did nothing to stop them from rolling down his face. A heart-wrenching, guttural, sob slipped passed his sealed lips.
"Dammit. How could you? You could have easily moved on, found a new partner to start a family with. Why did you have to do it?"
Jethro was mad at himself. He hadn't even proposed to her and she still risked her life for his. She lost her life to save his. He never wanted his life to come before hers, and somehow it did. It wasn't right. It wasn't fair. He drew in quick and shallow breaths, panic settling into the marrow of his bones and threatening to undo his composure like a cat unraveling a ball of yarn. He wasn't even sure if he wanted to stop what was coming. Hell, he wasn't sure if he could even stop it at this point. The guilt, shame, fear, anger, and sadness weighed heavy on him like an anvil was set on his chest, pinning him to the ground. His face felt numb, small pinpricks dancing on his cheeks. The feeling akin to a limb being restricted of blood flow or as he would call it, TV static.
"Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you! It should've been me!"
He yelled, voice hoarse and laced with hurt as his walls came crashing down all at once. Waves of emotions pulled him under, drowning him as tears freely streamed down his face. He was breathing frantically, his hands shaking and body tembling as he began to sob, muttering curses inbetween each breath. His gaze remain fixated on the night sky, never straying from the bright star. If she was up there, did she see him? Was she even looking down on him? What would she think? What would she say? Jethro knew she'd be mad that he had even suggested that he should've died instead. He knew that she'd also want to comfort him, she was always caring like that. Right now he wanted nothing more than to lay by her side, holding her in a warm embrace as he drew in scent. Something about the way she smelled comforted him, he'd never forget the perfume she wore.
"I'm sorry that I couldn't save you."
Jethro's voice was barely louder than a whisper.
"Thank you for being part of my life. I only wish that I could've stolen one last hug. I'll try to move on, for you. Just… please don't forget me, yeah? I know you aren't here anymore, I'm not sure how memories work after death… but please don't forget how much I loved you. Please don't forget me."
He laid in the grass, staring up at the starry sky until slumber claimed him.
(Featuring: Jethro)