The house stood silent and empty on top of the soaring mountain in the Canadian Rockies, it's doors and windows firmly locked against the chilly wind that whipped around the mountain. Below, trees and a winding river could be seen, winding it's way around the mountains and lakes that pocked the landscape.
Kayla Silverfox could see all of this as she trudged up the driveway, her bright blue eyes wandering over the familiar scenery. A rusted ute sat sat undercover, a bitter shell of a wonderful life. Her eyes moistened with tears, and she hastily wiped them away, delicately ghosting her fingers over the scratch marks that had heralded the beginning of her death.
Her fingers reached the end of the bonnet, and now, her eyes overflowing with tears and sorrow, she moved it towards her jacket's thick pocket, fumbling around inside for the key that led to the abandoned house. Her gloved fingers caught it, and lifting it out, she stepped into the shade tentatively, her eyes threatening to overflow with tears once again.
She let them fall freely, sliding down her face in rivers, like a dam had been broken, as she shakily placed the key in the lock and turned it, hearing the door squeak open through the sound of her tears. The door banged against the wooden wall with a thud, and she stared, trembling, into the darkness of the home.
'Hey baby!' Kayla yelled, walking to the door of their new house holding a large box filled with things she'd never seen, 'where do I put this?'
A pair of strong arms snaked around her waist and she tilted her head to look into Logan's hazel eyes with a broad smile on her face. Logan grinned in a wild way and lowered his head to kiss her, a kiss she readily returned. They broke apart, and while Kayla was still staring into his eyes, Logan sneaked the box from her, clutching it almost protectively to his chest.
'I'll put it away,' he muttered, turning his gaze to the house with a strange sort of excitement in his eyes, 'we're home.'
Kayla bit back a sob as she felt the memory drift away again into her mind, becoming a figment of pain to her eyes. Still crying quietly, she stepped into the house slowly, her body tensed as if she expected to flee at any given moment. The hallway was littered with dust on the floor and the photo 's that were scattered all over the wall, all showing Logan and Kayla happy and content.
She lightly traced her finger over the top of one, and held back a violent sneeze as the dust wafted off it, showering her face and hand with a fine white and grey powder. Absently, she dusted off her hand on her jeans, and wiped her face with her sleeve, noting how her jacket sleeve was now covered with sticky dust.
Abandoning the jacket, and the dust, she wandered into the lounge room, noting with a pang of pain, the empty beer bottle that still sat on the kitchen surface, a painful and melancholy reminder of the last night they'd spent together, the night when she'd told him that story.
Forcing down the stinging memory, she threaded her way through the furniture softly, and picked up the bottle, holding it close as she remembered the way his lips had touched the top of the glass, as well as hers. Her eyes moistening again dramatically, she gently placed the bottle of beer back where'd she found it, and turned on the spot to survey the room again.
The bathroom door was open, and she got a decent look at the grimy bathroom beyond it, her nose unable to wrinkle in disgust like it usually would, before he'd disappeared. Her footsteps were easily traced back to the doorway, because the dust coating the floor made them stand out like darkly coloured spots against a field of grey. The puffy lounge was in desperate need of a clean, and the TV was dark and silent. The fireplace was burnt black and there was no feeling of comfort echoing around the room, like there had been.
Any comfortable feelings had died along with Logan.
Biting back a sob, she made her way to the bedroom door, pushing it open with trepidation, not sure what she'd see. The bed was made, ripped in places, but made, ready and waiting for them like it had been on that fateful night. The wardrobe was half open, and she could see Logan's old clothes hanging up. Unwilling to feel them between her fingers and enjoy his long forgotten scent of fresh grass, she picked her way over, past the bedside tables and the bed itself.
She reached it and pushed the door fully open, before she reached in a hand and grabbed hold of one of his shirts gently, pulling it off the coat hanger and holding it close to her chest. Desperate for a small piece of him to live inside of her once again, she brought it up to her nose and inhaled, before dropping the shirt and coughing throatily. All traces of the smell of fresh, green grass were long gone.
Her coughing fit subsiding, she reached down and picked the shirt up, placing it where she had found it in the wardrobe. She made to close the door halfway again, and froze.
Pale and shaking, she reached down to pick up a cardboard box and took it over to the bed carefully, trying not to let the fragile box crumble in her hands. Inside were war medals, a silver locket and watch, along with a small heart on a keyring. And in the corner, tucked away with fingerprints still visible on the velvet case, was a box.
Her heart racing, she slowly reached for it, and opened it with shaking fingers, gasping in shock as she beheld the shining diamond engagement ring sitting on a velvet cushion.
Biting back a sob, she reached out and stroked it gently, blue eyes moistening and tears streaming. She didn't care anymore.
She half considered taking the ring and wearing it as a sign of her undying love for him, but she couldn't find the courage to do so. And the past needed to stay in the past.
Regretfully, she took one final look at the ring, and, knowing it must have cost a couple of hundred dollars to buy, closed the lid, placing it back in the box with a sharp snap. Without looking at the box, she placed inside it's larger container hastily, then carefully delivered the cardboard box back to it's original position, half closing the closet door again.
Before she could regret, or even think about what she had just done, she quickly left the room and hurried through the house, leaving everything untouched and as it had been left. A testamony to Logan's memory, left by the love of his life.
Once she was out of the house, she grabbed the key again, and locked the door, before putting the key back in her pocket, and running away from the house and the rusted ute in a blind panic. She got as far as the edge of the driveway before she fell to the ground and burst into loud, violent, heart wrenching sobs.
Her tears made tracks down her pale face, adding to her grief about Logan, the house, her life. They mocked her as they slid down her cheeks to freedom, doomed to fall to the ground and die, like she was unable to. She let out a loud sob and curled up into a ball, sobbing heavily, wishing she could die and be with her Logan, wherever he was.
But she couldn't.
She felt the welcome darkness take her, and in her anguished dreams, she felt a pair of strong arms encircle her and carry her away, and a gentle kiss place itself on her lips. A kiss that spoke of a passion forgotten.
In her dreams, it was Logan, Logan just being with her.
And then he kissed her.
Kissed her goodbye.
He watched as she ran out of the house that was so hauntingly familiar, tears streaming down her face like waterfalls, glistening in the bright sunlight, making her anguish and grief unbearable.
His position shifted in the trees, and he watched as she fell to the ground and curled up into a ball, sobbing her heart out. Instinct told him, that a few minutes later, she was drifting off to sleep, and, acting instinctively, he left his cover and stalked towards her.
Her face was beautiful, even when it was marked with tear tracks and puffy red eyes. He felt as if he should remember her, but only instinct had driven him to this remote and isolated place, and he trusted his instinct. Bending down, he lifted her light body off the ground and paced down to her car, opening the drivers side and laying her down horizontally on the leather.
He paused, his insides fluttering uncomfortably, and he internally growled, shaking off the nervous feeling with irritation. It didn't go away.
He was leaning over her, unknowingly bending down to near her sleeping form with every second. His insides burned with a desperate need to tell her something, yet what he was supposed to say, he had no idea. So he settled on the next best thing.
His face was close to hers now, and again acting on instinct, he kissed her gently, feeling nothing against his own lips move. He drew back and closed the door behind him, then, with a final, lingering glance at the sleeping woman, he left as silently as he had come, melting into the forests with only one thought in mind.
He had said goodbye.