Rooftops.

I did not walk off a roof.



I missed the warmth.  I missed the feeling of arms wrapped around me.  I missed the drying of my tears, the confrontation of my fears.  All given by one person, the person who gave me life.  And as a fish out of water, I tried to swim towards him.



I did not fall off a roof.



I missed the sound of his voice, his scent I still can't replace.  I missed the way he always cared, how even when broken, he was always there.  And I had become addicted like never before, and found I couldn't breathe without him.



I was not pushed off a roof.



I missed the way he always dressed.  I missed the way he walked.  I missed the shining of his eyes, his hair, his smile, how he always tries.  And I'd run into his arms, my heart beat getting stronger, beating the poison through my veins.



I was not caught, once off the roof.



I missed the way he said my name.  I missed everything about him.  I missed the feeling from up above, I missed the way he showed me love.  And he walked away with something I needed, even though I had been without it before.



I thought of our love as he led me off the roof.



My world of color turned black and white.  The world he painted had withered away.  I guess we both knew I would've died anyways.  My heart only beat to keep the poison alive.  The poison that sifts through my brain, causing the personality changes, the horrible memories and hallucinations.  The poison that erased all of my colors, the colors he had brought back.



And once again, my pinks, my reds, my blues, and my greens, they all began to fade.  The darkness of black had swallowed me before and I refused to let it happen again.  He had led me out of the dark, and I gave my heart as an offering.  The heart was then dropped and the colors then died.  And as my body rushed over, I opened my eyes.



All I saw was Indigo, and all he ever said, was "I love you, Alana, and I'll see you in heaven instead."