Disclaimer - Don't own the lost boys
I don't know where this came from, but it's depressing. Well, at least I think it is, but you never know...
Edgar didn't know it was going to hurt this much.
At first, when the news had reached him and Alan, he had felt nothing. It stayed like that for some nights, just an empty feeling inside, but something suddenly came out of nowhere, attacking him viciously, and it never left then. It had suddenly dawned on him. He was gone forever, and there would be no more seeing him again, there would be no more being annoyed from all the remarks he had to listen too. Sam was never coming back, and it sunk in, filling him up with a hurt he hadn't felt before. Edgar hated himself that night, he hated himself with a burning passion. All the times he had told Sam to piss off when he became irritated by just listening to his voice, all the times he had blocked him out when he chatted on about clothes, music, and other things that were uninteresting to him. Now, he hated himself for being like that, because he would have done anything to hear Sam's voice again, to hear him tease him about what he wore, to have him annoy him constantly. But Edgar was never going to have that again.
Alan had been quiet all week, saying nothing to anybody, not even Edgar himself. He and Sam weren't that close as he and Edgar had been, but it was clear to see he missed him just as much as his brother did. Sam spoke to Edgar more out of the two, but the three were always together and, whatever it may have been, they were all included in everything. When Lucy said Sam could invite Edgar over for dinner, he invited both. When he had money, he shared it between all three. Alan and Sam had spoken before, even for sometime, many times… they were friends, but they just weren't as close, only it was effecting Alan badly. He missed the discussions they had about comics and vampires, he missed the times he would just stare at Sam when he cracked a joke, but secretly smile slightly when he turned away. Alan missed Sam in general.
But it was Edgar who was really feeling the loss of a friend.
Behind all the grief and anguish that he felt, there was anger that burned deep within. Anger at the person responsible for taking away his life, anger for not being there for Sam, and he felt anger because it just wasn't fair. Sam was an idiot, but that was pretty much all he was, had been. He never did shit to anyone, it just wasn't in him to be cruel and horrid, but all his innocence and affection for the people around him hadn't saved him from the sinister torture he went through. Now he lay in the ground, being eaten away by the bugs and maggots that crept into his coffin. The more Edgar thought of Sam being there, the more the sickness rose inside. He was so alone there in the dark, just so alone, all by himself. Edgar knew Sam didn't like the dark, so he visited the cemetery, putting candles all around the grave, giving him some form of light. It didn't matter, because it was pointless. Sam wasn't scared of the dark anymore, because Sam was dead. Edgar didn't know why he did it, but he had too. He just couldn't leave Sam alone at night with no light. So he always made sure there were lights with him.
When he did that, for just those seconds, he pretended Sam was fine, alive, and he expected him to rise from out of the ground, panicked at why he had been buried alive. He could picture him looking around with wild eyes and then start yelling as he realised he was in the dark. Edgar's lips would twitch for a second and he would shake his head. It was pretty sick, but he felt some form of happiness for just those few seconds. Only it vanished as soon as it came, and it all shattered as he stared at the headstone. That anger came back, that hurt poured to the surface, and Edgar could never form the words sorry past his lips, although it always bubbled to the surface of his mind when he visited his once best friend.
The thing that got to Edgar, that made him feel fear was what he had seen the one day over at the Emerson's. He had been returning some things Sam had left over at the comics store. Lucy had greeted him at the door with red swollen eyes, and he had been pulled into a hug. She started crying again softly then, saying how she missed her baby so much, how it was such horrific at what had happened. The awkwardness left Edgar and he hugged her back, feeling all of her hurt and grief. They stayed like that for some minutes until Michael appeared at the bottom of the stairs. A small smile was given at Edgar when they glanced at each other, but it was miserable, and the signs that he had been crying was also seen upon his face. Edgar just wanted to get out of there. He was intruding, and the discomfort and awkwardness came back with a vengeance. But he never left. He was lead into their living room and, upon entering it, he was greeted with an officer, who smiled at him with sympathy. Edgar didn't hide the glower on his face as he stared at the hand that was offered. His eyes landed on something on the coffee table then, and upon seeing the large folder, bits of paper and other things peeking from out of it, he accepted to stay for tea and cake.
Edgar never forgot the look in Sam's eyes. He wished he hadn't seen those pictures, but curiosity had gotten the better of him, to want to know how Sam died had made him take a look when the officer slipped out of the room. Edgar wished he had just left it alone, because now that picture haunted him. Sam haunted him, no matter if he were asleep or awake. Those once teasing and warm eyes were full of a fear Edgar had never seen before, and they stared at him widely, trying to tell him something. No matter what he did or where he went, Sam always appeared, that same look within his eyes. It only got worse for Edgar, because Sam spoke, now, in a horrid, frightened voice. He came into his dreams, and Edgar would find himself standing not four feet away from the corpse of his best friend. It was just black, nothing but black where they were, but he saw Sam as clear as day, and fright formed within.
''Avenge me, Edgar.'' That frightened look was still in Sam's eyes as he would look at him. Edgar did nothing but stare with an even more growing fear and sickness. ''Don't leave me down here in the dark. I'm scared, Edgar.''
He would start to move back and a whimper of fear was heard. ''Please, save me. I don't want to stay here. It's cold, I'm cold, and frightened.''
''Save me from the dark, Edgar.'' He'd disappear like a swirl of smoke, and Edgar would shout his name, looking wildly around in that never ending darkness. Sam's words were still lingering in the air, constantly being replayed word for word. He never appeared once he vanished, not until the next night when Edgar would sleep.
''Save me from the dark, Edgar.''
He'd awake, then, when those words came, damp with sweat, and fear all over his face. He'd fall back down onto the pillow, and sleep never came again that night. Sam's words were fresh in his mind, and all Edgar could hear was those six words that haunted him. How could he sleep? Sam was always there, dead and broken, his eyes screaming at him with a fear to be saved from the darkness he was trapped in. Edgar would stare at the alarm clock for hours, just hearing those words again and again and again. He never forgot them, and he became cold as he remembered what Sam had said.
It's cold…I'm cold…
Alan was sometimes awake when Edgar would come from out of his nightmares. He'd be looking at him with blank eyes and Edgar would turn his back to him, hiding away that fear and hurt. It would be silent for some minutes and Alan's whisper would travel to his ears. He knew Edgar was suffering from nightmares. It woke him up sometimes, as he would mutter in his sleep, calling Sam's name. Edgar would say nothing as Alan said this, but close his eyes, and try to push Sam away, push away seeing his friend dead. He didn't know how long he could take it. With every passing day, it never got better. When he would open up the comic store, when he would stand behind the counter, he would just wait for Sam to walk in, shouting loudly about something exciting he wanted to tell the two. But Sam never did walk into the store. The only people they knew who did was Star, sometimes with Laddie, and Michael. That was only the once, as he was giving all the money Sam owed them for all the comics he had taken. Edgar had declined, but Michael hadn't taken no for an answer. The money was shoved into his hand and they became silent. Edgar cleared his throat slightly, feeling awkward like he did all those days ago at their home. Michael leant against the counter, looking around the comic store with a blank expression, but that deep grief was swimming to the surface in his eyes.
Edgar didn't know why he did it but, out of nowhere, he told him Sam was haunting him. Michael turned to face him, and a strange look came upon his face. Edgar muttered something about being tired when Michael repeated the words he had just spoken. The subject was dropped, but a curiosity formed within Michael's eyes. He left then, saying a, I'll catch you later just as he vanished outside. Edgar still didn't know why he had told Michael that, but he never mentioned it again. The money that he had been forced to take was given back to Star when she came into the store the following week. A bitter smile graced her lips as she walked towards Edgar, and she still wore the same sort of clothes the first time he had ever seen her. Laddie entertained himself as Star went to speak to Edgar. He watched Alan sort out comics, asking him all kinds of questions and getting short answers in return.
Edgar didn't know what to say to Star either. It was silent between them as she moved around the counter. He began to become uncomfortable under her gaze, and he knew he would see nothing but hurt and sympathy if he looked at her. So Edgar did the only thing he could think of. Take one of the boxes and sort out the comics. She offered to help in her kind, gentle, soft voice, and all Edgar did was push the box towards her. He never looked at her. What was their to say?
''I know it's hard for all of us.'' Her voice reached his ears, and his hand paused on the comic he went to pick up. ''It's going to be hard...''
Edgar knew that, but why wasn't she with Michael, with his family, who was suffering far worse than what Edgar was? They were the ones who needed people around them, they were the ones who needed comfort and love at this tragic time. Edgar didn't want people around. Sam was his best friend, sure, but his grief was nothing compared to Sam's family. Lucy had told him he was welcome too go over to their home anytime he wanted, as he would still be wanted even though Sam was gone. All Edgar had done was nod his head. He hadn't returned to the Emerson's since that day, as it was too much of a tragedy, and he didn't want to intrude on a time like that. It was just family, and he didn't want any attention out on himself, or sympathy. They needed it, they deserved it. It was them who had lost a son, brother, and grand-child. It was them who had lost their own flesh and blood.
It was angering Edgar in some way that everyone was seeing him, seeing how he was. Yes, he was fine. No, he wasn't, but he didn't say how he truly felt when everyone asked how he was doing. He wanted to tell Star to leave, to get out and be back home with the Emerson's, where she was needed and wanted. Edgar knew he should go and see Lucy and Michael sometime, but he couldn't bring himself to go over there, not after the last time he had. He didn't like seeing Lucy in tears, he felt awkward when in front of Michael, and he just felt uncomfortable altogether. But, Sam would have wanted it surely. Just because he was dead, it didn't mean Edgar was supposed to stop speaking to his family.
He liked Lucy, as she was everything his mother could never be and, although he became uncomfortable and embarrassed around her, she was nice. When he used to sit for dinner with them, she would turn and ask how the comic store was, how school was, if Sam wasn't being to much of a nuisance. And then she'd talk to him about other things and, although he feigned interest, he didn't mind that much. She was a kind hearted soul, and Alan had said the one night, when they were getting off to sleep...He had turned to face Edgar, and a serious look was upon his face.
''I think you should go and see the Emerson's, Edgar. I think Lucy would like that, and you can't stop speaking to them because...Just go over there one time.
There came no reply for him, but he thought it over. It wasn't that he didn't want to, but he didn't know what to say. What was there to say? What could he say? Even when visiting them, he didn't say sorry or show sympathy, as it wasn't going to bring Sam back. I'm sorry for your loss...Edgar muttered something when he thought of those words. Yes, he was sorry that they had lost someone so close, but those words were not going to bring Sam back, so why say them? It would only bring more hurt out of everyone, more anguish. Edgar stayed quiet. But then he felt he should stop speaking to them, as he was only Sam's friend, and it was okay to be around them when Sam was there. But now...
He thought of Alan sooner or later. If that were Alan in Sam's place... It hurt just to think it, as he needed Alan. He couldn't imagine how it was hurting the Emerson's. It was hurting him, but them...He pushed the frightening thoughts of Alan away, and all the thoughts of Sam came back.
Edgar didn't know it was going to hurt him this much. Deep down inside, he really did love Sam as a friend and brother. But his words...
Don't leave me down here in the dark. I'm scared, Edgar.
Please, save me. I don't want to stay here. It's cold, I'm cold, and frightened.
Save me from the dark, Edgar.
Sam never left him, and Edgar never got over the loss of a best friend. His words were always there.