Chapter 9: Reaching out

The glare from the window was blinding, and the world outside was filled with greys. But it was also filled with blacks and reds, with greens and golds, with blues and browns. The earth's horizon was beautiful, with the metropolitan skyline, with the faraway mountains, with the sunset sky. James touched his neck, to feel the rough surface of the rope, and pulled at it. The rope came out in a jagged movement, and his neck was bare and raw and red. Arthur was nowhere to be seen, thankfully, lest he see James' close to being-final mistake. After he kept the rope in his opened desk drawer, he reached out through his windows. The breeze swept through his hands, cool and warm to the touch, encircling his palms with a comfortable blanket of air. It embraced his stretched fingertips, and it was the best thing he had ever felt. A blue tear streamed down his fair skin, down to the brown desk below.

James pulled back his arm from the breezy blanket, and reached out for his phone. He dialled, and almost called her, but instead resorted to texting her. When he kept down his phone, he sat back down on his desk, and finally felt his head think. His cheeks were streaming with tears when the door opened. "What happened, James?!" "Sorry for calling, Kate. sniff, I wanted to talk about it to someone." "Tell me. Why are you crying?" Once she came closer, she noticed his neck, "And what the hell happened to your neck?!" "Sit, please." James sniffled, while Kate sat on Arthur's lower bunk bed.

"I made a mistake, thankfully not my final one. I chose the noose, thinking the world was not enough for me. But I was wrong." James chuckled for a second, "Thank god, I was wrong. The world is beautiful, it's so, so colourful. It is a masterpiece. Hell isn't." "What do you mean, James?" "I saw hell. It was a desolate wasteland, a vast, deathly grey sea, ready to drown and swallow us whole. It was everything I feared, and so maliciously more than that." James cried a bit more, and Kate, wordless and a bit confused, stood up from the bed, walked to his chair, stood him up, and hugged him. The embrace was more comfortable than the breezy blanket, warm and happy, more than James could hope for. When the embrace ended, James looked straight into her eyes, and then reached out for a kiss. Their lips met.

James' heart raced, and Kate held his hand while they kissed. Even when their lips parted, James' heart continued surging, and he was flustered, and his face was red. He stepped back and waited, looking into Kate's brown eyes, reflecting the clouds through his window. After a second or two, Kate was the one nearing James, and their lips locked. James could feel his face redden more, felt his heart race faster, felt his eyes dilate, felt his hand's fingers lock with hers. When they parted, he saw her face was also red, but it beamed a sweet, large smile, spanning ear to ear. James felt the same kind of smile decorate his countenance. He stepped back, "That was.... something." "It was good, at least for me." "For me too. Not the best circumstances, I do have to say." "At least you can say your neck is red because you got a hickey or two." She laughed, not a cruel or condescending one, but one that was music to James' plagued ears. James laughed in sync with her, and his eyes twinkled. The chuckle ended, and Kate spoke through her smile, "Any which way, I have got to go." "Why don't you stay here, tonight?" "I have to meet my mom and dad. Sorry. But tomorrow night for sure." "It's okay." He chuckled, "Are we a, 'thing' now?" James bit his tongue for the final two words. Kate didn't seem to notice, "Who knows. All I know is, while I am happy with coming to your house, I hope the next time your neck won't be blood red." Kate walked to James, and kissed him on the cheek, and then on the lips. When she ended that ordeal, she walked backwards towards the door, still facing James. Her left hand hit the higher bunk bed, but she didn't seem to notice, and her eyes stared into James' own. She turned to open the door, but when she walked out, she peeked towards the flustered James, and smiled. As she mouthed 'Sorry', she closed the door.

James turned to his work, spread out for the crows on his wooden desk. He pushed all of it away, and then removed a paper and pen to write. He knew what he wanted to write. If he had learned one thing from the grey, he had learnt that his life on earth was the thing he had to enjoy, and the afterlife was not something for him to concern himself with. The life on earth was the only thing, and that was what he would write down, for the next generation to learn. He would make a romantic novel, teaching that life should be enjoyed, for it is all that is at our fingertips to control. His purpose was clear, through the blur of regret over his past mistakes, his past failures. He had more to life than his burden, his monster, constituting of his failures and missteps and regrets. Now, he had someone to hold, a shoulder to just, cry on. Well, at least he was happy, when he reached out to his phone to text Kate.