6- Same world

August 21, 2016.

Same world.

Three days pass. An eternity goes by.

Dakota Laurent has not left her position every night since they admitted me here, regardless of my refusal to continue our conversations. Truth be told, my motivation and desire to talk vanished with the possibilities of my abandoned piano being dusted off.

The girl leaves in the morning, comes back in the afternoon to check my IV, and leaves again. Eventually, she stays at night. She doesn't say anything, but she looks exhausted; those curious eyes are slowly dimming with each appearance she makes in front of me. I can tell, even though she always curls her lips into a smile, seeking to provide me with calm and hide her obvious disappointment.

It is not until today that she gives me a clue about her negative feelings.

"Eron Montjoy," she utters as the sun sets on this day. I remain in my position, making no effort to open my eyes. I only listen. "There is nothing."

What is that girl looking for?

"I returned to the building," she continues. The mention of that place sends a shiver down my spine. "They refuse to tell me anything because I'm not a direct family member. Who in the family lives here, Eron?" I feel her approach. If I open my eyes, I will find her in front of me. "Why hasn't anyone come to visit you? I know you're listening."

"And I know I told you not to meddle in my life."

I don't want you to also see me with pity.

Disgusting pity.

The day I see my mother worry about something other than work and how my grades are in university, I will probably stop complaining about my pathetic outcome. From my father, I know his first name and the Montjoy surname that he left to me and my sister. He decided to disappear without any explanation years ago. Lucas Montjoy wouldn't even show up here, not even if I had terminal cancer and my last wish was to see them all. They have no way of knowing I'm here… It's not like I contact them.

There were times when I'd travel to explore South Dakota, getting lost for an entire week without anyone discovering my whereabouts, which usually consisted of bars where rap battles with monetary rewards were held. At the end of the day, I'd end up at one of the guys' houses whom I met in one of those numerous battles. I could discuss life topics with him for hours on end. Some of those conversations would then become incredible lyrics that my piano would bring to life when I got home. After that routine, you'd see me at university again.

For months, I haven't done that, and, like many times, I wish to go back to the old times. It's a shame to know that they won't come back, because time doesn't rewind. And that makes time a piece of shit.

"You're hopeless," she says, taking a deep breath. "I need to know if any of Favie's relatives live here."

"They all returned to their hometown after what happened," I replied.

"Ah, fuck. I'm running out of options," she relaxes her eyelids, lifts them up, and looks at me. Her fingers massage her temples, frustration emanating from her pores. "Is the bus to that place so expensive? Do you think they'll agree to go and ask there?"

"They're not that stupid. Faven's family is the last one to want to dig into the past."

"But…"

"Let it go," she stops massaging her temples and focuses her pupils on me. "There's nothing more to do."

"Says the one who talked to me about a 'I don't want to believe it' a few days ago," a humorless laugh escapes her throat. "I need to know. That's not real, he wasn't that kind of person!"

"Dakota…"

"Eron, if you tell me that you believe he was, you'll end up being worse than that bunch of idiots," she interrupts me as she stands up. "What's holding you back?"

"The same lines from Hollywood movies," I press my lips in a line. "Searching for clues won't bring him back to life."

"I think it's possible."

"You're too much of a dreamer. This isn't Disney."

"His memory is fading, Eron. At least I want that to live as bright as he was," she takes a deep breath. "A suicide, from someone like Faven Hope? That wasn't his true self."

Once again, we go back to the same thing. It's not as if I hadn't considered that at the beginning, even on days like today. But, reality is capable of slapping you and dragging you until you open your eyes and feel the true pain. When that happened, I understood what the phrase "nothing is impossible" meant. I believed it was impossible for someone like Faven to consider death as the ultimate way out of the difficulties he might have faced, but it happened. A cruel way of life making me understand that. I hate it so much for that. Couldn't it have happened without hurting so much? I disintegrate a little more every day.

Why? It's a question I ask myself daily. I can't understand the reason; his sister would have given her life for him, his parents cherished him as their greatest treasure, not to mention Mickey, his little dog. I don't know how, but that little dog was able to tell Faven that he was the center of his universe without the need for words. The way he ran in circles around his owner, how he licked his face, the triple bark he made every time they brought him to my house while Faven visited me… Those and many other things could say a lot about the love he had for his master. Mickey, as incredible as it sounds, suffers more from this loss than we do.

The dog understands abandonment less than a human being.

After all, it remains a living being capable of clinging to another, and from what I heard last time from his older sister, the poor animal is dying from imminent sadness.

"And what if he was like that, suicidal, but we didn't know?" I inquire. "Something influenced."

"Yes? I think it's obvious," I hear a fleeting sigh. "It seems like a product of our imagination. I insist on that."

"Faven never expressed his sadness."

Once again, I divert my gaze towards her. I see how her eye sockets fill with tears moments away from escaping and marking her cheeks. I can imagine the kind of thoughts tormenting her. Things like: Didn't I notice? Was I a bad friend? Didn't I arrive on time? Where did I go wrong?