I'm not one for writing a long series. Here is the finale of Headfirst! Enjoy!
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Bob's pov
I hate hospitals. Unfortunately, these doctors told me that I had developed pneumonia and would have to stay the night there. My parents arrived shortly, and I explained to them that my friend ran from the school and I found him at the park, then he slipped when we were about to walk away. But I left out the romance. That was private.
Soon, it was late and visiting hours ended. There was still no word on Mikey and I found silent tears sliding down my cheeks as the night grew. He had been ripped away from me so fast that I couldn't even comprehend it. Was some divine force angry with me? Screw that. I finally cried myself to sleep after what felt like hours.
The next morning, I was released with a prescription of medication. I left by myself, early in the morning, and walked home. My parents were at work, so the rooms were silent. I began to make a pot of coffee when the phone rang. There was no caller ID.
"Hello?" I answered quietly.
"Mr. Bryar? We regret to inform you that Mr. Michael James Way is dead. He drowned after being pulled under by a suction force from a pipe. We have informed his family and recommend you confer with them to make future plans," a monotonous voice answered, proceeding to give me the address of the Way residence.
"Thank you," I breathed. After I hung up, a choked sob escaped my throat. I collapsed into a chair and sat there, my mind blank as emotion overflowed from me.
Finally, I pulled myself together and downed most of the coffee. I changed clothes quickly, just throwing on grey jeans and a black tee shirt. I pulled on a pair of blue converse and grabbed my keys and the address off of the kitchen counter before leaving. I locked the door behind me and got into my car.
It took me only a little struggle to find the house, but soon I spotted the number and parked in the street out front. My shoes made slapping sounds on the still soaked pavement as I walked up the pathway to ring the bell. A boy a bit shorter than myself opened it, his raven hair falling over broken hazel eyes.
"Come with me," he mumbled, and let me inside. He led me up a set of stairs to a mostly empty bedroom. A few drawings littered the grey walls and a single David Bowie poster hung from the ceiling. He shut the door and sat on the blue bedcover, inviting me to do the same.
"You're Bob, right?" he asked as I sat.
"Um, yeah," I mumbled.
"I'm remember you. I'm Gerard... Mikey's older brother," he stuck out a hand and I shook it. I vaguely remembered him from last year when he was a senior and I was a freshman. I nodded at him. His eyes seemed to bore into my own, searching for something.
"So..." I breathed.
"I can see it in your eyes," he stated plainly, staring at the off-white carpeted floor.
"What?" I was confused.
"You liked him, didn't you?" the way Gerard put the emphasis on "like" explained it all.
"Mmhm," I said quietly, my face slowly turning crimson. Tense silence hung in the air; it was almost suffocating. He got up suddenly, and started shuffling through some drawings on a desk. He pulled out a small note and handed it to me.
"My parents scheduled the wake already. The funeral is right after," he explained. I read the times quickly before shoving it in my pocket. He sat on the bed silently for a second, then burst into tears.
"Shh," I attempted to comfort him, rubbing his back.
"I can't b-believe that the las-st time I s-saw him I h-hurt him!" he blubbered. "I'm a failure!" He flung himself down on the bed in defeat.
"Don't say that," I whispered. Gerard looked at me and sniffled. I smiled at him, "I remember when you were in school with us, and you always had Mikey's back. You were invincible and you made him so happy. I'm sure that's much more important."
"Thanks," Gerard sat up.
"Well, I'll see you tomorrow," I grinned at him and left. He got up with me and walked towards his desk.
"Thanks for coming," he smiled a bit crookedly, and at once I could see the resemblance.
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My breath caught in my throat as I got out of my car in the parking lot at the funeral home. I locked the car and walked in, pulling at my collar that now seemed much too tight. There were clumps of whispering people inside, none of which seemed to notice me walk in. I liked it that way.
My stomach turned into a knot when I saw the sleek, black coffin. Silver bars protruded from the sides and the top half, as customary, was open. I slowly walked toward it, my steps muffled on the carpet. I kneeled in front of the coffin, though no prayer escaped my lips. Mikey's face was paler than a ghost and his trademark glasses were fixed on his face. I saw a few drawings tucked in beside him, no doubt courtesy of Gerard and some photos of Mikey through his entire, tragically short life.
My shaking hand found its way to my pocket, and I pulled out a note on looseleaf paper. I was never one of fanciness, so I kept it simple. I slipped the note in, hidden between photos. No one except me knew what it said, and no one will. I touched my fingers to his ice cold lips, hoping that he would feel my warm love in his eternal slumber.
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I may do an epilogue. Only time will tell (and hopefully a short time at that)!
