Between the Sky and Me

A quick story of a girl and her musings of life after death.

There were no puffy white clouds floating above me and there were no twinkling stars like a million holes in heaven. No, the sky was steel gray and kind of depressing.

"I like you better during sunset," I announced to the sky, like the sky could actually answer me. I knew it couldn't but sometimes I wished it could. Like the rest of the world, it probably wasn't even aware of me. It made me kind of sad.

I sat up from my reclined position on the roof of the house. I heard an electric guitar shrieking in the room below.

Ronnie. He was always so angry all the time. I wished I could hug him. I wish he would hear what I had to say to him. I wish I could tell him that he wasn't alone.

I had always wished to have a big brother and Ronnie was the closet thing I had had to that. But my attachment was far deeper than what it would be if he was my actual brother. Ronnie was an only child, too. He always felt alone. Ronnie wasn't content with how things were but, like me, he was helpless to change them.

"I really care about him, you know?" I told the sky. "I wish he knew that, though but I doubt he'll ever find out."

And, honestly, why would he give a crap if some weird, loner thirteen-year-old cared about him. He'd probably be creeped out or he'd laugh.

I whined, "I wish people could see me. I wish they could hear me."

But I was invisible.

Music erupted from below me, the words hardly intelligible because of the way the singer screamed and moaned them. I could picture Ronnie, right now, jumping and failing about in his room. he would be trying to forget the world. He'd be tuning out, desperate to just drop out of life like he had school.

A part of me wanted him to go through with the dropping out of life but a bigger part of me knew he'd be as happy in death as he was in life, or at least, his life right now. I knew there was a chance for him to be happy if he got out of his room more, if he tried to change his life. However slim that chance was, I wanted him to stay alive so he might have a chance at happiness.

As his designated little sister, I wanted what was not only best for him but what he wanted as well. I wanted to see him happy.

But what could I possible do?

"It sucks to be dead," I told the sky.

I sunk through the roof into Ronnie's room and pretended to be alive once more. I jumped and flailed to the music with him, pretending he had invited me into his room, pretending I really was his little sister. I pretended that we tuned the world out together but, tomorrow, we would conquer the world with the newfound happiness we had.

But it was all just pretend because he couldn't see me. No one could. I was a ghost. I was dead and buried.

Later, I told the sky, "I was an idiot for ending it. I could have had a chance."

"Who the hell are you and who are you talking to?"

Author's Note

This is really short and old and has yet to be edited. Tell me what you think and how it can be improved.

Reviews

[Wildecat]

This really touched me. I have some very close friends and there 18 year old Son committed suicide. It was really hard for them and still is. I sincerely hope that anyone in this situation can find someone who will listen to them and try to understand where they are coming from. This was an excellent poem, thanks for sharing.