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AMAYA

15 Years Old

O liver's voice has the power to blow me away on the gentle summer breeze. This, him singing to me, has been the only time I've felt lighter than a feather since Nana died.

He found me crying one day a few weeks ago in my backyard, and ever since then he's become my solace in the pain. Just like that day, Oli and I lie in the field by his house while he sings the weight of loneliness away from my tired body.

With each melody and accidental crack of his voice, I sink further into the grass. My eyes may be closed but my head stays tilted toward my friend so I can bask in everything that he is.

Every so often, I open my eyes to stare at him. Messy brown curls hang in his right eye as he's curled on his side facing me. His fingers play with my hair sprawled out around us, tugging on knots sometimes, but he doesn't apologize and I don't scold him because it keeps me awake. It keeps me here, with him, in the only moments I can be conscious and happy lately.

Without Nana to brighten my home, I feel like I'm wading in waters tortured by a heavy storm. Living alone with my mother wasn't something I could have prepared myself for. She's gone most of the time, off doing whatever she does to make her come home reeking of sewage and booze, but when she's home, her rot does more than stink up the house. It's strangling.

Oliver breathes life back into me. He makes me happy. I can smile and laugh with him without feeling guilty for still being alive when the person I loved the most isn't. With Oli, I can close my eyes without seeing Nana's pale face haunting me.

I wish I could picture her beyond the lifeless face I saw in her open casket.

"You've been torn to pieces, lost in the storm… hating lost life, hating you've been born. But I'll always be here to dry your tears… and chase away all your fears."

With Oli, all I see is him because he sees all of me.