It's been forever since I lost her.
The 'unfortunate accident', a fucking drunk driver hit her. Me and my Kitty Cat, hit her while we were driving home from Vega's house. I don't even care that I was in the car too; it doesn't matter a single shit to me. I don't care that I was in the ER for almost a week. I don't' care that Vega finally admitted that she cared about me as a friend. Nothing matters anymore.
Nothing except the hours I spend at that tombstone, staring and running my fingers over her name, those precious letters, pressing my lips to the cold stone. I should have been on that side of the car. Cat is - was - a better person than me, than I could ever be despite the ways that she changed me. And now it seems that my heart finally decides to come to life on its own, without Cat to stoke it.
It burns, twists and convulses in painful spasms that make me want to reach into my chest and rip out the somehow still beating organ. Maybe this is God's way of punishing me for being a bad person. Hurting to be alive. He should've just killed me, let me die painfully and slowly. She didn't deserve it. I love you, Caterina Valentine. I always have, I always will. Until forever. Until death do us part. The weddings vows are knives in my heart now. Or what's left of the pitiful organ. Sometimes I wonder if it's even still beating or if it's just scarred and bloodied beyond repair, bleeding painfully out onto the ground when I'm powerless to stop it. Every flash of her I see when I close my eyes, every time I smell her when the wind blows by. I cry when I remember our wedding now. Because she was there and now she's not. It's simple, but I can't stand it. I want to burn everything I have of her and keep it forever at the same time.
I want her here. I want to open the front door to our house and see her waiting on the kitchen counter for me like she used to. I want her to jump into my arms with my name on her sweet lips, kiss my lips and forehead and cheeks, giggle and ask me what took me so long to get back to her. I want to wake up and see that red velvet hair beside me, feel her delicate body pressed against mine. The giant mansion seems so cavernous and empty without Cat's vibrant energy now. I was almost tempted to sell it and all that furniture that Cat had touched, graced with her presence. The couch that she sat on, the bed that we made love on.
I want her here, but now she's dead and gone forever.
Just thinking that hurts; the pain throws me back to my earlier years, slashing the razor across my wrists in my bedroom. She helped me. She helped me get better, held me when darkness threatened to swallow, coaxed me away from the voices in my head. Most importantly, she healed my scars. Scars from my parents, the strain of trying to be perfect, the strain of simply living and breathing every day. I try to swallow back the tears and choke, falling to the ground on my knees. Darkness rises behind my eyes, but then Cat slams in front of my eyes, warding off the black. I don't know if I can hold it off without Cat really there and I'm not even sure if I want to try. I'm at her tombstone now because the memories were too much to take and this is the closest I can get to her now. The walls of the mansion seem to constantly echo her name into my ears. She died; she's dead because some careless truck driver wanted to feel good. The sobs wrench at my gut and come spluttering out of my throat brokenly. Cat...if only she saw how much everyone cared.
Vega, Beck, Robbie, Andre, Trina, even Sikowitz and a horde of people I couldn't name if I tried. I was the first to break down. They had a closed casket and I was glad because I didn't want to see how motionless she was, how the beautiful color had drained out of her soft skin. I didn't want to look at her closed eyes knowing that they would never open again.
Vega offered to drive me home that night, not that I gave a shit. I just slumped against the car door, looking miserably out of the window, cursing God for letting the goddamn sun shine.
"Do you believe in angels, Jay-Jay?" Cat's painting a picture of me even though I'm not posing, just sitting with my legs crossed as her brush streaks color over the white canvas. Most people wouldn't expect Cat to know how to paint, but she paints so vividly you can live in her world by just looking at one of her pieces. When we started dating she shyly showed me pictures that she had painted of me. They were so realistic it was like looking at a photograph.
"Of course I do, Kitten; there's one right in front of me."
She giggles, brush hovering. Then she bites her lip. "Am I gonna go to heaven, Jay-Jay?"
"Of course you are, baby." I'm genuinely surprised at the turn of this conversation.
"Will you be good so we can live in heaven together, Jay?"
"Everything I do is for you, Kitt." I say. It's a well proven fact in my life.
"We'll live in heaven together, promise?"
"Promise."
I just want it all to stop, want everything to come to a standstill where everything is frozen and nothing can hurt. That way the pain will still be in me, but it won't hurt and I can remember her forever. I want to turn back time and relive all those moments that we had together, turn every moment into a loving one. The murky blackness rises up again and I chant my protective mantra.
Cat. Cat. Cat.
And as I walk away I swear I can hear her voice, soft and lilting in my ears.
"Promise me you'll be good, Jay."
I stop and turn back to look at the tombstone, tears springing into my eyes again.
"I will, Cat. I will."
And I won't let the darkness swallow me either.
...So I'm not really sure if this one's any good or not...