Prologue:
April 12th, 2024
I was back on that same bench—the one I'd come to over the last year, my hidden place for joy, despair, and all the blurred spaces in between. It was 9:38 p.m., and under the flickering streetlights, our shadows used to merge, blurring together like we were one.
But tonight, something cracked through the silence. A sudden blast—no sound, no warning. Just stillness. In that instant, memories flashed: my mom's laughter, my dad's steady voice, Lola's wild hair, Matt's lopsided grin. And then nothing but a white, unending light, a tunnel pulling me forward without an end in sight.
When I opened my eyes, I was back on the bench, the same streetlights humming, the same breeze pressing cold against my skin. I glanced down, half-expecting something to be different. But my pack of Marlboros was still in my pocket, my ink-stained sweater still clinging to me, my worn Converse still gray and scuffed.
Then I saw it—me, lying a few steps away on the pavement, twisted and broken. My skin, pale as paper, streaked with dirt and dark, wet blood seeping from jagged wounds in my chest and stomach. My lips were already blue, my eyes frozen open, staring out at nothing.
I shouted, tried to wake up. But there was nothing to wake up from. And then, from the distance, I heard them: sirens, closer, their wail tearing through the night.
That's why I'm telling you this now. By the time you read it, I might already be gone. You need to hear what happened—not for pity, but maybe so this story will save you somehow. Because when you lose yourself to someone, when you mistake pain for love...it could happen to anyone.
So, hi. I'm Blue, and this is the story of my life—or at least, the past year of it.
Let's go back to where it all began. To him.
