Throbbed. Ezra touched his chest, even though there was no heartbeat anymore, somehow his chest hurt. The man who was crying tried to reach for the cold, lifeless Ezra. Despite the police restraining him multiple times, the man was unrelenting in his attempts to approach the body.
--Stop. It's all over. Stop. Don't wear that expression.
--Raphael. That expression doesn't suit you at all.
Ezra muttered under his breath, his eyes narrowing at a man he didn't know could make such an expression, as if he, too, had lost his will to live.
Throbbed. His chest hurt again, Ezra hit his chest lightly which never stopped feeling tight.
"Ezra! How could you ... How could you do this to me?!"
The roar of those words was loud, and the people around also cast sympathetic glances toward him.
"Ezra wake up!!!"
"I said wake up, Ezra!!!"
A scream filled with rage and sadness echoed, causing every fiber of Ezra's body to tremble. Without realizing it, he walked closer to the man. Stretching out his arms— the desire to touch the man to calm him made Ezra's legs run faster.
But then.
When he tried to touch the man's cheeks, he realized he couldn't do it anymore. His hand passed through the man's body like a ghost. Ezra stared at his hand in a dreamy way, a sense of regret spreading through him, causing him to bite his lower lip.
No. This has happened. There's no going back.
Tears streamed down the man's face, his expression darkened and his eyes filled with what seemed like anger. The tears fell continuously, yet he couldn't see Ezra standing right in front of him. Raphael gazed at the lifeless Ezra, who would never rise again, who wouldn't respond no matter how many times his name was called.
"Ezra, if I knew it would turn out like this, I should have done whatever I wanted. I should have been more... tsk."
His words were cut off, and Raphael fell to the ground, making the two policemen holding his hands sit down as well.
Raphael lowered his head, Ezra could not see what kind of face he was putting on right now.
Looking at every side of the man who usually never looked weak, now hunched over with a trembling body and the occasional sound of a sob escaping, an unexpected anger towards himself surged within Ezra for some reason
Anger ... why?
Ezra didn't know why he felt anger.
"Look at me, I'm here," Ezra whispered softly, he knew what he was doing was in vain because the man would not be able to hear him.
"Raphael.."
For some reason, Ezra wished for the man to lift his head and make direct eye contact, even though he was fully aware that his voice wouldn't reach him. He called the man's name over and over.
"Raphael."
"Raphael."
"Raphael."
No matter how many times he repeated the name, the man continued to keep his head lowered, completely oblivious to Ezra's voice. Ah, how could he have believed that no one would be saddened by the news of his death?
How could he forget this man?
Ezra bent down, trying to touch the head of the trembling man, he could not touch it— again and again, his hands could not touch the man, and Ezra felt frustrated.
Why?
Isn't this what you wanted? Didn't you want to leave this world because you've had enough of living your miserable life?
So why this anger? Why this frustration? Ezra, this is your wish.
The voice in his head grew louder, gradually becoming so intense that it caused his ears and head to ache.
"Well, this was my choice," he said in a detached tone, his eyes staring blankly at his useless hands.
"Raphael!? You called us here because Ezra—"
A man shouted from a distance with two others following closely behind. Emerging from the crowd, the three men's steps came to an abrupt halt as they laid eyes on Ezra's lifeless body.
Shock, disbelief, confusion, and rejection mixed on the faces of the three men. "No way." One of the men muttered, averting his eyes as if he no longer wanted to look at the scene before him. They were thinking if they did not see it, it might just be a bad dream, something that never happened. Yet, they were fully aware that the reality was unfolding. Slowly, they approached Raphael, who was ignoring their calls just as he ignored Ezra's, the distinction lay in the fact that they could touch Raphael and he could hear them.
Of course. Because they were still alive, unlike Ezra who stood weakly looking at the sight.
"Raphael, calm down..."
Ezra recognized the man who spoke those words. They were quite close because they were in the same college class. Martin — the man who had always laughed cheerfully and said silly things. But now, his face appeared serious, one hand gripping Raphael's shoulder.
"Calm down Raphael..." those words were spoken weakly, as if he knew there was no point in saying that, because even he himself did not look calm at all.
The sound of an ambulance gradually filled the silence. Raphael, upon hearing it, immediately stood up and rushed towards the medics attending to Ezra's body.
"Save him!" he pleaded, gripping the hand of a medic who looked at him with a hint of sympathy.
No. Ezra couldn't bear to witness this any longer.
Raphael had never done anything pathetic like this, a man with charisma and pride, could not be begging with such a pitiful face.
His lifeless body was no longer there, the sound of the ambulance slowly disappeared. Ezra stared at the figure of a man who was standing looking at nothing, when Ezra's eyes scanned every side, his eyes stopped on his hands that were clenched tightly, pale white with veins protruding from the skin. The anger he had suppressed seemed on the verge of erupting at any moment if he didn't hold onto it desperately.
"Raphael, let's go back."
The man wearing glasses spoke to Raphael cautiously. Raphael let out a heavy sigh, nodded, and eventually decided to walk alongside his friends.
They walked toward where Ezra was standing, though, of course, they walked past his body. Ezra couldn't even touch Raphael, not even by an inch.
---Why are you annoyed? You're free now. You did what you wanted. Don't tell me you regret this?
Throbbed. Again and again, his chest ached. Ezra couldn't even feel his heart beating, yet the pain in his chest was excruciating.
The white fog around him reappeared, Ezra quickly turned around, trying to find Raphael's figure. However, Raphael was no longer visible. Not even a trace of his back remained in sight. The fog thickened, causing dizziness to wash over him.
His head was spinning, his vision getting blurry.
He didn't know when he slipped into unconsciousness. Ezra lay weakly, his eyes tightly closed. The strange voices grew louder and louder, piercing his ears with their repetitive words. If he could, he wanted to stop the voices.