I feel tired, and the cold is taking its toll on me, but I can't sleep. I'm wide awake. Through the emerging of the sun and its descent, I'm wide awake. I want to sleep, and I know I need it, but I simply can't bring myself to lay in bed and close my eyes; I don't want to see you. I need to accept that you're gone from this world and move on, but I can't... especially when it's my fault you're not here anymore. The anniversary of your death is coming up, but I don't know if I can pick myself up to visit your grave again. Why should I subject myself to the hollow smiles and deathly stares of them. They still haven't forgiven me. It's your fault. It's always been your fault. If death had taken me instead, I wouldn't have to go through this every year. I'm tired of it. Around this time every year, I dream of you.
It's 4:25am. Your cold body in my bloody arms, staring at me with those bloodshot eyes... Your last words echo through time, reaching me even to this day.
"Don't give up on life just because things get hard"
... The last thing you said before you faded away. The deafening cries begin to fade as well, and now there's nothing but the sound of the sirens. They took you away and put you into that ambulance truck, and I never saw you again... at least not until the wake. Everything happened so fast. They never caught those guys, but I still remember their faces as clear as day. Now everyone looks at me with anger, remorse... we all regret what happened that day. I just wish you'd stop haunting me. I want to move on, but you keep visiting me in my dreams and showing me what happened that night. "Why? Why do you keep forcing me to relive your fucking death" I would yell, waking up covered in sweat and gasping for air. It's 4:26am. I'm wide awake. I hate this time of year.