Abel often dreamed about dying. In the beginning the recurring dreams had troubled him, but now, he found comfort in those dreams – to be specific, he found comfort in endings and in the idea of simply ceasing to feel or exist.
Clinically depressed, that was the term his psychiatrist had thrown at his mother. He needed help, pills, something to alleviate his want for oblivion. They gave him medicine, things like Zoloft and Prozac and Xanax - it didn't help.
Two months into treatment, he stopped taking the pills, abandoned all dreams of becoming a Marine Biologist, and applied for a job as a barista at the coffee shop a few blocks away. It was an 8:00 am to 5:00 pm job he cared nothing about, and on the weekends, he would sleep all day and stay up reading books all night. He didn't remember any of the books, simply allowed his eyes to scan over the words so he'd tire out his brain enough for another round of sleep. He was rotting as he lived, and this was the reason why, Abel was lying on his back on the 18th floor of his apartment complex. His legs dangled over the edge of the rooftop and he kicked them back and forth as he stared up at the starry sky.
It would be
so easy to just get on his feet, take a step, and fall to his death.
It would be over in a fraction of a second.
He imagined himself, wind whipping at his skin as he tore through the air - a moment of flight before the final fall. He imagined the stunned people, screaming as bones and flesh came into contact with concrete. And then he imagined himself, splayed across the pavement like a broken marionette, limbs bent at odd angles, bones protruding out of bloodied flesh, his skull shattered, blood seeping out of his head like a secret.
Abel could understand why people romanticized death.
Really, he could. There was beauty in the broken.
Sammie's death in particular was a striking example of this literary trope.
One of the happiest people he knew had killed herself, and before she died, she'd sent flowers to her family and friends. Not even a note, just flowers... he'd received a single Rue and he didn't know what to make of it. Sammie had been into floriography, and he felt a weight on his chest when he finally got around to looking up the flower's meaning.
Regret. Sorrow. Grace.
What did she regret? Not getting the help she needed? Her friendships? A spark of anger roared to life in chest, but it died down as quickly as it had arrived. He was numb. Grey eyes focused on the vast emptiness of space. Abel remained lying there for ten more minutes before he finally sat up and looked at the streets and the passing cars below.
Not today. He was no stranger to loss, he knew his decisions would affect others as well. His mother, his aunt... he couldn't do that to them.
Abel inched away from the edge of the rooftop, tucked his feet back and stood up. It was time to head downstairs.
***
He couldn't sleep. It didn't surprise him anymore, nothing was easy these days. Unable to pass out for the night and uninterested in the books scattered around his room, Abel decided to go for a midnight walk.
The city was quiet at night, and aside from the occasional person or two, he was alone. Abel relished the silence, at least, until he noticed a familiar silhouette standing at the end of the street - Sammie.
The girl was wearing her signature pink scarf and she was smiling at him. Had he finally lost his mind?
Anger and sadness melded together, and for the first time in two months, he felt something other than numbness – he felt alive with rage. Abel's leisurely steps turned into large strides as all rational thoughts left his head. He balled up his fists and stared the specter in the eyes. "You're dead. We attended your funeral. You're dead."
He should have walked away, but instead, words started spilling out of his mouth. "Why... you could have. You could have talked to us. You could have done something, anything but
that. You're selfish and cruel and you've broken us."
"You'll forgive me, Abel. You have a kind heart."
What was he doing talking to this thing who wasn't even Sammie. "Not even a note, just some cryptic flower game. What kind of friend does
that?" Abel's voice broke as he stared wide-eyed at the girl who'd been buried more than a year ago. Perhaps, the next term his psychiatrist would throw at his mother would be
Schizophrenia or something that got him locked away in some asylum forever.
Abel's eyelids snapped open when he felt cold fingers around his wrist.
"You have to talk to the others."
Sammie led him to the building across the street. He stared at the glass and at his reflection, Sammie didn't have one. "You're showing me a building?" The universe certainly played cruel tricks.
"Please, talk to the others." Sammie wasn't smiling anymore. She released Abel's hand, and soon enough, stood behind him. What Abel wasn't expecting was for the girl to push him. He lost his balance but instead of crashing into glass, he slipped through it like it wasn't even there - like a stone sinking easily in the water.
Abel crashed into something solid. It swung open upon impact and he found himself lying on the floor of a spacious warehouse. All around him were bunk beds with people sleeping peacefully beneath the covers.
Mermaids, rabbits, men, women, everyone was sleeping.
Amidst everything was a tiny creature half his size. The creature had a human-like figure but he also had a half moon for a head, he wore striped pajamas and had a bag of sand slung over his small frame.
Abel's heart hammered in his chest. "Where... where am I?"
The creature he'd dubbed the moon man turned to face him. "Welcome to the House of Sleep."
Abel didn't answer, he merely stood up as he attempted to take it all in.
"This is a place where dreams come true!" The moon man continued. "Rough night? You look like you need a nap. I'm the Sandman and I'm here to help!" As the words were said, the moon man grabbed a fistful of sand out of his bag and tossed it at one of the stirring sleepers.
"I'm lost," Abel answered. "I'm not from here."
"Ah, I see! You must be Abel then?"
He turned to the moon man, stunned. "How did you know my name?"
"A girl came by, said you ought to find your friends."
Abel didn't quite follow. "Um, a girl?"
"Yes, she was only here for a second! Nice, friendly, she had a pretty smile. Told me you'd be stopping by, that I should help acquaint you to this world. Welcome to the Other Place! You should be able to find your friends outside."
Abel had given up on questioning the plausibility of the situation he'd found himself in, so with a hesitant nod, Abel accepted the moon man's words and wandered outside. He didn't understand a word, didn't understand what was happening.
***
The Other Place was Narnia and Wonderland and Oz all in one. It was the stuff of dreams, yet as Abel traversed through strange, impossible landscapes, fear began creeping up on him. Maybe, just maybe, he'd lost his balance on the rooftop and had fallen all the way to hell. Strange, but not as strange as the creatures and places he'd passed. Flying whales, knights and wizards on horseback, shadow people, yep... Schizophrenic would definitely be the next word doctors threw at him.