I wish he
would have spoken up, given me the story behind the crimson
stains on the hem of his sleeve, given me a little piece of
himself before he vanished altogether. It was only then, standing
at the foot of the gray cobblestone rock that I understood the
pain and horrible nightmares that he subjected himself to. No one
realized that even when the sun was high in the sky, smiling down
as the children down the street ran through their sprinklers and
doused each other in warmth and prosperity, that he was
constantly in the dark, a midnight so black that the last flicker
of flame inside him was kissed and put out by the cold. It was
only then, as I stood by his grave and felt the earth, dead and
cold beneath my feet...
I understood exactly how his
demons devoured him whole.