With Us (fiction, obviously)
Yes, I suppose I could have done something as I watched him fall all those stories.
I could have yelled at the people on the sidewalk to move.
I could have called the police.
I could have called to his mother in the other room, telling her not to go downstairs.
I could have called his girlfriend and told her the news, instead of her having to see it on tv.
But I didn't. And nothing is going to change that.
And maybe I could have stopped him.
Maybe I could have grabbed hold of his clothes.
Maybe I could have put bars on the windows after the first time he tried.
But I can't do anything about that either.
You can blame me all you want to.
You can say that I am the reason he is no longer "with us."
But he was never with us.
He was never part of this world.
And you know it.
You knew that every time you saw his empty eyes watching the television.
You were aware of it when you yelled at him and he didnt flinch.
You knew he was not yours, when he didn't cry at his father's funeral.
So you can just sit there all you want, and curse my name, and spit on my efforts to help you,
but I know that your son.
your brother.
your lover.
my best friend.
is in a better place.