Without thinking, I rip the gloves off with my teeth, digging my fingers into the dry grass and dirt, letting it sift throughmy hands, reminding me that there is still a life outside of that stupid cage I've been living in.
I don't even realize Eamon's still here until he starts to chuckle at my reaction to the sweet air and the feel of soft earth beneath me. I open my eyes, only able to see his outline against the dark sky and the bright stars behind him. He's little more than a silhouette, his form towering over me.
Through the dark, I think I can see his white teeth grinning down at me, but it's still too dark to tell. Instead, I let my eyes wander across the sky, wishing to stay here forever. It's frigid, I'm already uncomfortable on the dirty ground, but I've never seen so many stars.
"It's so beautiful," I breathe.
The ground beside me rustles, the giant beast of a man settling into a seated position next to me before laying down completely. Now I take a moment to look at him, the moon lighting up his features just enough to see the strong slope of his nose, the soft curve of his smiling lips, the way his long, dark lashes brush against his cheeks as he soaks in the cold night.
His face starts to change color, as does the smattering of snow around us, first subtly, then all at once, everything around us is bathed in greens and blues. When I finally realize what's happening, every inch of my skin breaks out in goosebumps.
My eyes dart up to the sky, the way it's suddenly a kaleidoscope of colors. A flowing river of a rainbow across my vision. Blues and greens, streams of purple and pink breaking through. It moves like smoke, twisting and cascading, entwining before separating again and again, dancing across the sky to a song only they can hear.
Everything around me blurs for a second, and I'm not sure if it's the heavy emotion in my throat or the freezing wind making my eyes water, but it doesn't matter. I wipe the tears away,laying flat on my back next to Eamon so I don't miss a single spot of this beautiful gift nature has created for us.
Nothing has ever been as beautiful as this. The lights create a waterfall as if the heavens themselves were pouring out their love for the earth. A sniffle breaks out, and I cover my nose and mouth with my hand, feeling ridiculous about the overwhelming reaction I'm having.
Eamons hand finds mine on the ground, "I cried the first time I saw them."
"No, you didn't." I argue, "You're just trying to make me feel better."
He chuckles, "Scouts honor. It was right down there on the beach, nearly a hundred years ago. I was searching for somewhere as far from human life as I could find. I was filled with such hate, such anger, I wanted to wrench every human soul from this earth."
The sorrow in his voice keeps me silent, not daring to breathe too loudly and scare him off.
"I knew if I was within 100 miles of another person, they'd be dead. Ripped to shreds and scattered across the world until they were unrecognizable. So I ran. I ran and ran and swam and swam, hoping my body could outrun my fury. Could outrun the horrors existing in my head. I thought I might end up out in the water for the rest of time, letting myself drown over and over for eternity rather than face the reality of who I would be without my purpose.
"And then I came upon an island three and a half days of swimming into the abyss. I prayed to whoever might be listening that this place would be uninhabited. That I could be safe from them and them safe from me. It was the middle of the night when I finally threw myself onto the shore.
"Within moments, the whole world around me was lit up, covered in an array of colors that I didn't even know waspossible. And I broke down and sobbed. I cried for my sacrifice, that he would never get to know such a beautiful thing existed. I cried knowing such extremes could exist in this world, such stunning gifts as this," he gestures at the lights above us. "And such horrible pain.
"In Vankhala, there is nothing. I'm sure Bel could tell you from her brief visit, but it's just a blank, quiet existence of almost thought, almost sentience, floating between and through other demons, alongside them but never being aware of them. It may seem like torture to some, but there's been more than one time in my life that I've wished for the oblivion of it.
"And every time I do, I think of Aurora Borealis. Something so magical it lights up the entire sky, turning something as simple as wind and earths magnetic field into art. If I had let myself die the first time I wanted to, or the second or third, I would have missed this. Would have missed so many wonderful things this earth has given me."
Silent tears stream down my cheeks, burning as the cold air hits them as he continues, talking as much to himself as he is to me.
"And if I had killed every person I wanted to, they all would have missed out on this, too. Their family members, their friends, would have to continue living in a world, thinking about every second they get to live and their loved one doesn't."
So many questions fly through my mind. What was his sacrifices name? How old was he? What happened to him?
He sighs heavily, and I wonder for a second if he'll be willing to give me the answers without me having to ask the horrible questions or if he's finished sharing such a raw moment with me.
"If you decide the pain in your life makes it not worth living, there are many people who will be in the most wonderful moments of their lives and only be able to think of the fact that you should be a part of them. Bel will spend the rest of eternitymissing you, wishing she could have saved you, wishing to share just one more second of happiness with you. Mike and Charlie will raise their child speaking of her auntie Isla in past tense, you'll be the missing piece of their family for the rest of their time on this earth. If you don't think your life is important, then think of them and theirs."
"I'm not suicidal, Eamon," I scoff.
"I never said you were. But you're not willing to fight to live, and that may as well be the same thing," Eamon tells me, a lump forming in my throat at his words. "As hard as it will be sometimes, if you forget that you need to live for yourself, remember to live for them. Untilyouand your life are a good enough reason."
"Would you miss me?" I ask, the question feeling stupid the second I say it.
He chuckles sadly, "Yes. I will miss you when you go to the next life."
Fear of what comes after my time here makes my whole body cold, "What makes you so sure there's a next life for people like me?" If I could be honest with myself, which I seldom am, that fear is probably the only reason I haven't taken that final step.
After a heavy sigh, he takes his time answering. "Because I can't accept the possibility that there's not. I can't accept that there might be a future where you just don't exist anymore. You existing somewhere I'll never reach you is a difficult enough idea to face."
The weight on my chest intensifies, his sincerity too frightening to deal with. So I do what I always do when I'm too afraid of the feelings growing in my chest. I fucking ruin it.
