I don’t know if anyone is listening, but if you are, I just want to say, Hi, my name is Blaine. I am sixteen years old, currently living with my grandparents and this distant uncle I barely knew anything about until a little while ago. Oh, and my old dog, Sparky. Also, before we go any further, I would like to tell you something. It’s very important and, well, to put it bluntly, I’m dead. Suicide. Wrists were cut deeply, and I had apparently lost too much blood to survive. They couldn’t get a donor in time with my blood type, apparently. When you come up here, they give you a record detailing on how you died and then they ask you if you want to continue aging or not. Yeah, you can age up here, and when you reach a certain age, you can just stop. Well, if you want anyway. You can’t reverse it though. There are only two ways of being young again. Either you relive past memories (there’s like this dream station, I don’t really know that much) or you get reincarnated. You go on to live another life, all your memories wiped. Kapoot. You get to be another person…or whatever creature they want you to be. They decide everything up here, but that’s alright. It’s peaceful up here, even though it was kind of shock at first. When I arrived, they told me I was a “special case”, since when I showed up, I was already two years older than I was when I died. The big shots around here told me that I was a “wanderer” before popping up, whatever that means. Guess I was in a coma before they pulled the plug. Who knows? They don’t tell you much up here. They never explained the beeping that’s always in my head. My greeters just told me to shrug it off, that it will go away. Oh well. I still have to decide if I want to continue aging anyway. They told me to just come back when I wanted to tell them my decision. It’s been almost four months since I showed up and I still can’t decide. Or….I think it’s been four months. Time moves weirdly up here. I have all the time in the world though…..well, all the time in Paradise.

Yeah, four months. Amazing for it to seem like I only died yesterday. I watch my parents from time to time, seeing how they’re doing and everything. When I first showed up, I watched them like crazy, seeing what they did after my passing and I even watched my own funeral. Everyone was in tears, even my father who I had never seen cry. My older brother was there too. He’s eight years older than me, and he was finishing up his second year of college when I…well, you know. My older brother, well, he’s kind of hard to explain. I mean, I love him, but sometimes he can just be an ass who wouldn’t listen to what I had to say whatsoever. It was still hard to see him pick up the pieces of our broken family that I had left behind. After that, I couldn’t really bare to watch them anymore. I sort of left them again after that, so now I only watch them when I need to.

Now, well, my grandmother is always telling me to find something else to do, which is kind of hard considering I had died so young. Sure, there are a lot of young people up here too, but everyone I knew is still back down on Earth, even Adam. Some days I wish I had called him back after all those messages that were deleted. He was pretty badly beaten up, mentally and physically. He stopped the whole homeschooling and transferred to some boarding school that started with a D. I can’t really remember the name, but it’s not really that important. Adam didn’t speak of me much anymore, which I don’t mind. He needed to move on and live his life without a fourteen – wait, sixteen – year old memory holding him back. I mean, he seems pretty happy now, and if he’s happy, then I’m happy.
It’s hard though, now that I think about it. In Paradise, I can’t really find anybody to talk to, even though there are a lot of people that were in the same situation as me. I just haven’t really connected with anyone, so I spend my days playing with my dog, or sitting out on the front porch. Except today. Today, I decided I wanted to take a walk. To where? I have no idea; I just know that there’s this long stretch of land that seems like it could go on forever. It seems like a peaceful place where I could just go and clear my head, or get my mind of things, actually live in Paradise instead of dwelling on the past. I mean, I’m dead already, so I can’t change anything about what used to be. Wow, I sound like some wise old man who is also sort of creepy…..I think I get it from my grandfather.

Walking. I always liked to walk, but only when it was where I had no destination to go. The times when I didn’t have to rush to catch the bus, or when I had to meet someone somewhere. Walking with no where to be was…..therapy for me. There was just this calming sense in the air whenever these occasional walks occurred. I forgot how much I liked it when I arrived in Paradise. Now, well, now it was refreshing, especially from being in the house for most of my time here. The sun is warming my skin, a nice breeze is coming in from the north, and the sounds of nature are just beautiful. It’s nice to be away from all the commotion that seems to be going on all the time. It’s like normal life, but you can do anything you want. You make your own Paradise, and I always thought that was kind of neat. I still have to make my own though, and today’s the day. No one can tell me otherwise. Well, I don’t know who would protest anyway.

I continued walking, farther and farther through the field. Maybe it does go on forever, because when I turn around, the place I came from looks like a tiny little town in the distance. I shrug my shoulders and continue on walking, until all of a sudden I come upon what seems to be a giant mirror. It’s quite odd, especially since I am far away from the town now. Plus, why would a giant mirror be placed in the middle of nowhere? Well, I’m pretty curious, so, slowly, I walk up to the mirror, and reach out until be palm is against the cool glass. All of a sudden, the glass started to shake, ripples forming across the expanse of it, and it smoothes out to show a dark room. It looks like a bedroom to me, and at first, I don’t notice the boy. As I look closer, I finally realize him, and he seems to be hugging on his knees and turned away from me. He’s sitting on his bed, and I can tell from the shaking that he’s probably crying. I back up a bit, my hand falling back to my side, and, without thinking, ask, “Why are you crying?” No response. I ask again and again, but come to the conclusion that he can’t hear me. Maybe he’s deaf, or maybe I’m not speaking loud enough. I don’t really know at this point. Instead of continuing on this question that’s getting nowhere, I decided to sit down. I don’t know why, but for some reason my mind is telling me not to leave. So I don’t.

I continue on looking at this crying boy, trying to see if I recognize him. There must be some hint somewhere in this room that would say who he is. Nothing. I give up. I am just about to leave, when all of a sudden the boy makes some sort of movement (looks like he’s wiping his eyes or something), and lies down on his bed, looking at his ceiling. Now I can see a side of his face, so that’s something. Still, I don’t think I know him, and if I do, then I don’t remember him. It is dark in his room, anyway, so I’m not getting the full detail, but what I can see….nothing. Nothing turns on a switch in my brain. There’s no ‘aha’ moment. Just….nothing. But then, he turns his face towards me, and it seemed like he almost fell off the edge of his bed. I wonder why. Wait, can he see me? He has a look of terror on his face as he starts to walk towards me. All I do cock my head to the left, a curious look on my face.

It seems he’s trying to say something, but I can’t hear him. I was never very good at reading mouths, but by the gestures he was making, it seemed like he was trying to say “Get out of my room,” but in a more yelling sort of way. He starts to storm towards me, but he suddenly stops short. It seems as if he’s ran into the mirror, since he puts his hand up and puts it against the glass. He jumps back; all the while I continue to sit here, wondering what is going on. He can’t hear me, I can’t hear me. I know I’m not deaf, and since he was talking a little while ago, I guess that he isn’t either. So why can’t we hear each other?

Well, I probably won’t get the answer to that question, because right now this boy is pacing back and forth, his hands making odd gestures. He stops again, looks at me, and then mouths something, but I still can’t hear, so I mouth ‘what?’ This really isn’t getting anywhere though. We both can’t hear each other, so it’s really no use to continue on talking. It seems like he suddenly had an ‘aha’ moment, because he goes over to his desk, picks up something, and walks back over, sitting down in a cross-legged position, just like me. I scoot a bit closer, as he starts writing something, but he’s writing it backwards so that I can read it. I realize that he picked up a marker from that desk, and I read what he wrote. “Who the hell are you and why are you in my room?” I want to laugh at the statement, but I don’t, and instead I just shrug. He writes something else. “Do you have anything to write with?” I don’t think I do, but I check my pockets anyway. Well, look at that. For some reason I have a black marker in my pocket, one that I don’t think was there before. Convenient. I hold it up, proud of myself. He starts writing again.

“Good. Now tell me who the hell you are and why you’re in my room.” Wait, so he can’t see my side? He only sees me? Well, isn’t this strange. I take the cap off of the marker and start writing back to him. “I’m Blaine, and I have no idea how I got into your room. What’s your name?” He scoffs and this, which just wants me to laugh again. “Why would I tell a stranger who can’t even hear me my own name?” I decide to joke around. “Because I’m a rather handsome stranger who wants to know who you are.” Well, look at that. I know how to flirt. Not the best pick up line ever though. My point is proven when he laughs slightly at that. Well, I can’t hear him laughing, but it looks like he is. Only slightly though.

“Well, since I think this is all a dream, I guess I’ll tell you my name.”

I wait, and wait, and wait. He hasn’t written it yet, so I ask. On the mirror of course.

“Kurt. My name’s Kurt.”

Kurt. Kurt. Kurt. It’s a name that just rolls off of my tongue so smoothly, one that sounds so lovely to my ears. I can feel him staring at me as I continue to say it, so I write a quick “Sorry,” and then, “I really like your name.”

Even though it was dark in his room, I could see the blush creeping up on his face. I don’t even know if Kurt is gay, so at this point I just think it’s because he likes compliments. I don’t really want to intrude on that yet, or else I might make things awkward. Even if he thinks it’s just a dream.

“Thanks.” That was it. That was all that he writes. How am I supposed to go off of thanks? Got to think fast.

“Why were you crying?” Crap. Why did I write that? I’m really not as smooth as I thought I was. Now it was awkward, because I crossed the line with that question. I just want to know, though. I’ve been down that road and I don’t want to see this boy crying. I don’t want anyone to be crying. So what if it’s a personal question? I want to help. I always want to help, since I couldn’t help myself.

“I wasn’t crying. I was just---“

“Yes you were. I saw you shaking, and I know signs of crying when I see them.”

Wow. That was really harsh. I shouldn’t have written that. Why did I write that? God, I’m such an idiot.

“Fine, yes, I was crying. Why do you care? Nobody cares about me.”

Ouch.

I can feel the anger in his writing, as odd as it sounds. But, also something else. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but it resembled exhaustion in a way. Exhaustion that I always felt when I was still alive. Exhaustion I still feel some of these days.

“Because I know what it’s like. I know what it’s like to feel like no one cares. God, you have no idea how much I get it.”

He looked taken aback by that. I think I scared him a bit by my response. He seemed ashamed by his outburst, and I felt bad for what I said.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you. I’m just not used to people caring.”

Now I really want to help this boy. Kurt. Not ‘this boy’. Kurt. Kurt who looks so damaged, so broken. He looks like how I was. I could see the light fading from his eyes, even though I’ve only known him for a few minutes.

“Well, I care. Don’t let anyone put you down Kurt. Please, for me. I know you have no idea who I am, but please, just….don‘t give up.”

It looks like he’s trying to decide what to say, because it took him awhile to respond. Just one short word. One that you never really know what the meaning is behind it. Just one word.

“Maybe.”

And then he started to fade away, the mirror starting to go back to it’s original state, until all I can see is my own reflection. Maybe. I just hope that maybe was one that made a difference in his life, because I don’t want to see him in Paradise anytime soon.

I guess today was my day. I met a beautiful boy, someone who’s going through so many struggles that I don’t know the first thing about, and I have a chance to help him. Well, right now, I don’t know if I’ll ever see him again, but god, I hope I do.

I hope I see Kurt again.