Chapter 31

                                    

                                          
Sometimes, I swear they could see me. Not often, but, now and again, I felt like they were looking straight at me, not through the hollow shell they once used to hold so tight. It felt as if they could feel my presence, realised I was there with them, but didn't know how to admit it to the world without sounding mad. I know, deep down, it's impossible they could, but it was nice to dream that they could still feel me there, beside their crippled chests.
                          
I see them every day, without fail. I watch over them, a guardian angel, pretending that I can feel their touch, their warmth, ignoring how, when I try to yell to them, they shrug me away. I still laugh at Stan's bad puns, even when they aren't funny, just because I appreciate how hard he's trying to act normal after all of this. I still peek over Ford's shoulder as he studies anomalies, gaping at his genius, wishing he could recognise my wonder at his work. I know how much my opinion matters to him, and how much he thinks his should matter to me. Because, after all this time, I couldn't listen to him when confronting the biggest decision of my life.
                          
As night draws closer, shadows flooding the sky with their sultry pirouettes, Bill comes to hold my hand as he takes me back to the colourless realm of death with him. I do want to spend time with him as well as them, so, most days, I gladly give my sunsets to him. However, sometimes, he has to pry me from my old reality. Like the days they spend crying, because they can't handle everything that happened, everything they lost. All I want to do, in those times of grief, is come back to them, let them grin and delight like they used to, and to laugh without choking on the tears that put pressure on their shrivelled throats. But that's the one thing I can't do.
                          
At the end of each day, I stare noiselessly into the misery, wishing upon something, anything, to make them happy. That's all I want for them, and all they ever wanted for me. True, Bill makes me happier than anything, his embrace, his cackling laugh, his company of gold. But that doesn't equal a happily ever after.
                          
Like there ever would be. We were always fated for chaos and destruction, and, for the ones closest to us, heartbreak and loneliness. Separating ourselves from the disproving looks of the world left us with only each other, content, yet so incomplete with only one to care for. But it was my choice: surrounded with love, but without a lover, or leaving it all behind to be with the 'bad guy'.
                          
I never was the hero of the story, nor was he the villain. We were whoever people wanted to see us as, our life-changing actions just conflict in their tales. Because there are no good guys or bad guys; there are just those we want to root for, and those we want to root against. But, every once in a while, they decide to leave their archetypes -  their brands given to them by those who think they know all the answers -  in order to be with each other. And, for me, leaving everything that defined me meant I had to die, just for a chance to live. Just for a chance to be with my one true love.
                          
The ultimate sacrifice indeed.
                          
The end
                          
***
                          
Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed my story, and look out for more! There may be some more in the future *wink wink nudge nudge*, but idk yet. Depends on the reaction to this, I guess! Thanks for all your support! Love you guys,
Em xx