Smoke billowed from a chimney as the porch light extinguished, the drapes drawn and the resounding quiet too loud for outside ears.
The house was dark but warm as I pulled the blanket closer; it lay atop a cardboard box, one I hadn’t seen before. I just assumed he’d left it behind in his haste to escape... to escape me... and the life we’d begun to build.
The house felt empty now, but it wasn’t. I picked up the bottle I’d brought with me from the liquor cabinet. Gazing absently at the flames now dancing wildly, I put the bottle to my lips and swallowed. I tasted the bitter sweet amber liquid as it burned my throat and warmed my chest, coursing through me still trying to defrost my heart. I managed to cough up half my lungs thankfully not throwing up... that would come later, after my tears had tried staining my cheeks and the bottle clinked to the ground... empty.
I think the alcohol and fire are starting to play tricks with my mind. That box keeps staring at me. Not that a box can stare, just that I was getting a little too curious for my own good. I know he would have a fit if I went through his shit. But he did leave the box behind, on my couch, in my living room and I just needed to check that it wasn’t ticking. You never know it could be a few sticks of dynamite taped together with a clock attached and a message saying: “die bitch, die”. Okay that sounds legit, right? What is it they always say: “Curiosity killed the cat”, well it’s a good thing then that cats have nine lives. Shit, just think about it; what if that cat was all depressed and suicidal? Okay I’m drunk!
But even in my drunken state, I pulled the box off the couch and into my lap. It wasn’t sealed and the lid popped off easily. It looked like an ordinary box crammed with crap. I guess it was crap... all the things a couple accumulates over a period of two years.
There was the note he’d written for our second anniversary: it was full of ‘I love you’s and promises for the future... our future. I read it through twice before re-folding it and tucking it between the seat cushions of the couch.
Next, I found that picture he’d taken when I’d written my number on the window of a friend’s car and he drove dangerously just to capture my digits with his camera phone.
I dug around in the box before pulling out the mixtape I’d made him. Each song reminded me of him so I burned them to disc and slipped it into his DVD player when he wasn’t looking.
His baby brother’s birthday party was forever captured. As I marvelled at the picture: him pushing an ice-cream in my face, me laughing, a tear found its way to my chin.
Sometimes photographs remind us too much to ensure nostalgia. Sometimes they remind us to cherish the little things.
I liked this one. He hadn’t seen the camera, but he was smiling. He’d seen me and his face had lit up so, his blue eyes shone brilliantly.
Another shot of the birthday bash made its way to my lap. We’d taken over the games. I was chasing him, donkey’s tail in hand, hoping to catch my prey. I held my stomach as I laughed at his monkey impression. I smile now at the thought of how all the party goers had yelled and cheered when he’d caught me but I still managed to pin the tail on my donkey.
Each picture we were in made us seem so happy... and you know what? We were and I still loved him. This wasn’t a box of crap. It’s a box of memories, good ones that we’d based our lives on, memories I’d give anything for to just relive if it meant I’d get to make at least one new memory with him.
I hastily packed everything back into the box, stole the note back from the couch and put the lid back on. Cradling the box in my arms, I rushed to the hall closet to grab a coat, found my keys and made my way to my car.
I remembered the way he laughed, the way he said my name, the way I could piss him off and he would always forgive me .I hope he’ll forgive me this time.
I pulled out of the driveway and headed in the direction of his new place. I drove in thought and only noticed the flashing red lights when it was already too late. The only thought that went through my head was: “Damn, I thought it was only the cul-de-sac I lived in that was affected when the power went out. The entire city must then be out.” Just a little too late.
The last thing I saw before it all went black... it wasn’t the driver of the other car bracing himself for the impact, it wasn’t the red lights, it wasn’t even how everything slowed considerably... no, it was his smiling face, the one from the picture. I even thought I’d heard him call my name. I remembered that my heart started erupting because my voice wouldn’t obey my mind and I couldn’t answer him.
“It’s going to be okay,” I whispered as the EMT guys put her into the ambulance. Tears were streaming down my face. I had been driving to see her when I came across a wreck, a two-car-collision and approaching sirens. I recognised the bumper sticker of the red mini-cooper. It looked like the one I’d attacked to her car. But it couldn’t be... it just couldn’t be.
I followed the ambulance to the hospital praying with each minute that ticked by that she would be okay, like I’d promised her. I couldn’t go on without her... I wouldn’t go on in a world with no her.
“Sir,” a doctor shook me trying to get my attention. “I’m sorry to have to tell you...” she paused. “She didn’t make it. Her blood alcohol levels were higher than legal limits allow. The impact of the car...” I stopped listening. She wasn’t gone? She would never leave me? “We did everything we could,” she stated before leaving, a look of pity on her face. “I’m sorry for your loss,” but I wasn’t listening any longer.
I walked aimlessly, in search of nothing because nothing mattered anymore. I stopped in front of a door that read: “Roof Access” and tugged at the knob, finding it unlocked. The stairs were steep but finally I made it to the top finding the air up here to be thinner it might have just been my lungs giving up on me.
It was dark out here; I could hardly see the enclosed edge. I always knew I would fall for her... in every way imaginable. I’d fallen in love with her and now I was ready to fall off a roof just to see her again, to hold her hand, to hear her whisper my name.
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