“You know why am I always scared? It's because when you feel happy at the exact moment, that is when empty endings occur.” He breathlessly spoke in the air.
Endings, happiness, and emptiness. Those three words I hated. It haunted me. I was gazing upon it, and the next words written on the wall was, "I must survive it." It was a familiar one. I traced every letter written on it, and it was like remembering how he wrote it, and how he fell upon it.
He could've survived it.
If it wasn't for me.
Scattered petals were surrounding me. The wheezing winds from the windowsills embracing my already gnawing body—my eyes wandered the old house. My eyes fixated, on the dried drops of blood, on the empty sofa he always sits in. Where we always tell each other's carpe diem.
If I didn't leave, will I make a difference?
If I didn't let the monsters win, will I be able to stay?
“Do you want to know the answer?” An old lady patted me on the back.
It sent chills down my spine. Her voice sounded as cold and barren.
“Who are you?” My voice began to shake. I took two steps backward, but she keeps drawing nigh. Who is she?
“Do you want to know the answer? She repeated. How did she found out?
“I don't know what you are talking about!” Then, I ran in the other direction.
I woke up and it was on the 5th of May when mornings are cold and gray. I flinched when I saw his back, asleep. “I was just dreaming,” I whispered. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Just when I was about to open it, he groaned and stood.
“J-Jack?” I called him. My raspy voice echoed throughout the room, but he didn't even budge and walked out of the room. I followed him and my hands reached him, yet it passed through him. Just what in the world is happening?
I tried several times to touch him and even cupped his face, but I was a ghost passing through his body, and the sudden thought flashed through my mind that I remembered the old lady.
“What did you do?!” I called her, but no one is answering. What am I suppose to do?
The rush of waters coming from the faucet overwhelmed my ears and I saw him lying in the bathtub—his eyes were bloodshot red and his wrist was full of scars; his body weight fell and his face's swollen.
I sat beside him and rummaged his hair, even though I could not hold him, yet my coldness reached through him that he flinched and met my eyes.
“Shh... I am here, I am here.” I whispered. He closed his eyes and dipped his face in the bathtub. Adrenaline rushed through me, and my screams were almost a whisper. I threw out the chair, and that caught his attention.
I ran and found a marker lying in the table. I went back and wrote “Helen is here” on the wall. I peered at his direction and saw his stunned expression.
“He-Helen?” His hoarse voice sent chills down my spine. I wrote “Yes” on the wall and sat beside him. “Don't do it again, Jack” I wrote again.
Then, I woke up.
The first thing I saw was the old lady sitting at the edge of my bed. She was intently staring that it pierced through my core. Then, her expression changed—it was now a soft one, and she flashed a genuine smile.
“You did great, Helen. You must find the answer, yourself.” She said and vanished.
I looked up and it was on the 5th of May again. And Jack was walking up to the door—I followed him until he passed by the Bridge of Adelaine. If I stopped Jack when he was drowning himself, then I must find a way to stop his death.
The old lady may be giving me chances to change the course of Jack's past. To save him from dying on the 5th of May.
But the problem was, there were no walls or things I can use to stop him. How will I save Jack?
“His mind...” The old lady's voice echoed through my mind.
His mind... What about that? I asked her again, but she didn't answer.
Yes, his mind! Panic registered through me when he already was standing on the other side of the bridge and I closed my eyes and found his still mind—yet so dangerous.
“Jack, stop it!” I screamed. But he wasn't listening.
“I said stop it!” I repeated but he wasn't listening.
Then I remembered something—something in the past we both held on to whenever we have bad days.
“You know why am I always scared? It is because when you feel happy at the exact moment, that is when empty endings occur.” I spoke, my voice cracking.
His face flashed a hint of surprise and looked around. Then he saw me, he saw through me.
It was on the 5th of May again. I immediately roamed around and saw myself passing through the walls of this empty hospital. I found myself looking for his room, and I opened the door.
He was lying there with IV fluids inserted into one of his veins.
“Helen...” He called out.
“I'm here,” I whispered, and cupped his face. He smiled and looked at me.
“You can see me?” I added.
“Yes.” He replied.
“You know, I will always be your hero. Remember that. I will always save you, Jack.” Then I kissed his forehead.
“This is why I don't want to be happy, I know you will leave me again, Helen.” He spoke in silence.
“Then I will always come out of the grave, to save you then.” I grinned, and we both laughed.
I accidentally wrote this story, and guess what? I enjoyed writing for the first time. Also, for the first time, I wasn't insecure.