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That particular day, the sky was overcast with dark, murky clouds, and you could see the birds fly for shelter. Lilia was ever fond of sunny days. Faint recollections of gazing out the window of your study, of watching her run around in your garden, ensuring that she does not tire herself out, called to you. She would look upon the white, wispy clouds, the kind that floated about quite uselessly through lazy afternoons, with great wonder, and yell up to you about wanting to touch them, to feel them against her skin.
I bet they'd feel like cotton! Ooh, or maybe a really soft ball of lint?
The nimbus which fogs up the sky now was once of the same kind as the floating puffs which your sister adored so, was it not? That same weightless, almost innocent cloud grew larger, accumulated moisture, sorrow, tears, and would now rain upon the earth, grumble with thunder, and seek to bring destruction, would it not? Is it still fundamentally the same as what it once was? If, now, this cloud could feel, and it could get a glimpse of its former self, take a look in the mirror, perhaps, would it feel astonishment, or simply a profound sadness?
You sure have found silly thoughts to occupy your mind in your final moments.
You sit down, legs dangling off the edge of the cliff, and heave out a sigh. The grass rustles softly under your weight. You gaze up, and the vast expanse of a clouded sky gazes quietly back at you.
You find yourself thinking of him , as you often have, ever since you left that mansion. You think of the gentle smile, which was almost always present on his face. You think of his demeanor, and everything else about him which was achingly familiar to you. However, you should not insult him so, by comparing him with yourself.
For how much you thought of him, it was truly embarrassing how little you actually knew about Noel. You took him for the kind of person who had secrets to keep, to preserve, out of necessity, or as you believe now, out of self-sacrificing kindness. You suppose it was true, because you truly have no idea what was happening to him the last time you saw him. In all honesty, all you knew was that he liked stars, and was somehow foolishly inclined to believe that you were a good person, that you were deserving of kindness.
You could laugh.
It had pained you to see him ailing, coughing, hurting. In those moments, you had wanted to help him, to ease his pain, with a sense of sincerity which was, by then, foreign and rather startling, and the feeling itself was uncomfortably akin to the one you felt when Lilia went into a coughing fit. For a while, you tried to convince yourself that you were simply attempting to gain his trust, to make a good impression on the mansion residents. Though, you suppose that could have been achieved by merely wishing him best. You do not believe his opinion of you would have changed for the worse if you had not gone out of your way to chop his carrots into stars, to make him food that would help with digestion, to stay with him, to talk with him for hours.
After all, his opinion of you hardly changed for the worse when you were down on the floor, covered with blood which wasn't entirely yours. You're sure that he must have found out. How you attempted to kill Claire, attacked Sirius, attacked Wilardo…
No. In fact, frustratingly enough, Noel went out of his way to push you out of the way of the bookshelf which was about to fall on you and kill you for good. You wonder if things would have turned out differently for him, had he not done that.
And then, Noel saw you. He truly saw you, beneath the layers upon layers of deceit, which you had carefully constructed with such perfection, such seamlessness that you had managed to deceive your own self. He spoke to you, the real you, the part of you that was simply.. desperate.
You didn't know what was happening to his body. Why his skin had peeled up into ruby, bleeding eyes. You can only hypothesize that it had something to do with his illness, or the fact that he only showed up during the night. You wonder if he was a demon, like the rest of those monsters, and if that was the case, you would be compelled to applaud how convincingly human demons could be.
What you could tell, however, was that he was in pain. If you could go back to that moment, you would want to hold him, maybe blabber out “ I'm sorry, thank you, don't worry, it will be alright, it's okay," or something else along those lines. Maybe you would smear yourself in his blood, and perhaps if you did that, you'd become one with him. Maybe you would scrape out the blood from your own heart, to see how deep the semblance runs. Maybe his blood would seep into yours, become whole, or maybe yours would make his blood coagulate, and perhaps then he'd finally take notice of how deeply rotten you truly are.
As it stands now, you didn't say, or do those things. You cannot imagine a world where you would have. Rather, you tried to convince him of the rot beneath your skin, of how you were no different than the father he had told you about. You wonder if he was in a state of delirium, from the fall, or from his condition in general, because he did not seem to buy it.
I want your kind self to be rewarded , he had said.
And you suppose he died. You cannot imagine how he could have possibly survived. You had found yourself unable to say anything else to him, and, like the coward you are, you left.
And, of course, if you are recalling the entire ordeal anyway, you must not forget the main event. Claire Elford was right there. Unconscious, defenseless. You could have carved a hole into her chest, obtained that jewel which you had been so single-mindedly after, and you would have had Lilia in your arms once more.
( Probably .)
You did not do such things. For Noel's words had grabbed you by the throat, and forced you, against your will, to see with great clarity the similarities between that woman and your Lilia, which you had been trying to ignore with such fervour.
(Now that there's nothing else for you, you wish that, at the very least, she's happy, and leading a good life.)
You had refused to give up. You had refused to believe that your family could not be brought back to life. For if you did, if you took that as fact, accepted it, then would that not mean the end of everything?
You did hear more rumours. A wish-granting sage. A ritual to converse with the dead. A spirit medium who had strong ties to the underworld. You did chase after them, for a while.
Yet, you found yourself unable to commit to any task which would involve bringing harm to others. You truly have grown soft.
You lose if you hesitate. You lost the very moment you decided to spare Claire Elford's life. Though, you don't know if you can claim to regret it.
So, at some point, you gave up. Less so on your family, and more on yourself.
You want to hate Noel. Despise him. For sensitising you, for awakening all of those emotions which you had tried so hard to bury. However, you most certainly cannot do that, and you think about him too often for your feelings towards him to be passed off as indifference. Do you love him, then?
Since you will die soon anyway, you allow yourself to consider the possibility.
You think over it, and are unable to come to a conclusive answer. You don't suppose it's ‘love’ in the traditional sense. You finally set the thought aside.
You think of other things, now. You think about playing the piano. You think about cooking. You think about your mother's food. You think about.. fire. You even allow yourself to muse over the words and actions of Sirius and Wilardo, and wish for their well-being.
What a pointless, convoluted life you've led. The talented, intelligent son of the Bradleys has eventually amounted to nothing.
There's nothing else for you now. You can no longer get your family back, not with the way you've become. You faintly consider the fact that if you truly go through with this, it would all be in vain. You would never be able to lead a life of kindness, like Noel had wanted you to.
However, imagining a future without your family, you cannot quite bring yourself to do it. It is far too bleak.
(Maybe you'll be with them again. Isn't this the only chance left for you, with how cowardly, how emotional you are now?)
You stand up. It seems you're human, after all, because your body trembles. Your hands shake restlessly.
You suppose it'll be easier if you're not looking down, so you turn around, and face away from the cliff.
You spot some dandelions being blown further away by the wind. The thunder has become louder, more frequent.
( When will it rain? )
You breathe out, and let go of your humanity. You stop trembling. You step closer to the edge, and let go of your thoughts, allowing them to join the floating dandelions. And then..
You let go.
As the wind hits your face, you feel your mother's embrace. You feel your father proudly patting your back. You hold hands with Lilia and stroll off into the sunset.
Your body joins the cosmos and you become one with Noel. Your blood flows through his arteries. You can feel what he feels, you think what he thinks and you find out that the two of you are more similar than you ever could have imagined. His soft voice whispers into your ears and
you're
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