Mary Shepherd-Sunderland watched the fan blades in the ceiling of her room spin around. It seems that was all she ever did, besides sleeping. She always felt cold. Even James said her skin was cold to the touch a few days ago. That was the last time he entered her room. She just wanted to die here and now, to end all of this suffering for the two of them.
In this life I'm me, just sitting here alone.
James Sunderland sat in the small couch in the living room of their home with a look of pain and terror on his face. "I'm going to do it. For her sake." He kept whispering to himself over and over again. In his mind, he knew he wasn't doing this for her. He started to loathe her after the disease. She was ungrateful, always screaming. He even tried to bring her flowers in at the hospital once. She began screaming at him because she felt she didn't deserve it. "For her sake."
By the way, I tried to say I'd be there for you.
Mary coughed violently and gasped for air. Was this what death was like? She wanted to cry but she didn't have the energy anymore. She knew everyday, she was just wasting away in the bed she was laying in. That this bed is her death bed. She wished she could cry. The worst part was death not coming any sooner to put her out of her misery.
Walk the silent emptieness that leaves me by my hands.
James took a deep breath. "Drink a little bit. Drink." He told himself as he tried to walk to the kitchen and open the refridgerator. He uncorked a bottle of alcohol and gulped it down. Little streams of alcohol missed his mouth and stained his grey polo shirt. He dismissed it and wiped the alcohol off his mouth with the back of his hand.
He thought about the last time they made love. It was back in Silent Hill, a year or so ago. He couldn't stand it, he wanted to release the stress and inner desire. Mary was in no state to even be able to feel pleasure. It would've probably been too painful. He knew he'd never feel his body against hers, joining together as one. Never again would he do it with the woman he loved.
And throw away what I don't understand, as a man.
He put the near empty bottle back in the fridge and shut the door. The alcohol made him feel a little more numbed to everything. Perhaps it was for the best. All this sexual frustration, all the pain, the mourning...all of it was going to end. "For the both of us."
Love-Hate-Sex-Pain, It's complicating me sometimes. This Love-Hate-Sex-Pain is underestimating life.
Mary heard footsteps coming up the stairs. She didn't hear anyone else come in the house. She smiled a little to herself. James decided to visit. She loved it whenever James came to see her. Even if he decided to avoid her because of the disease. She'd lash out of him. She'd beg him to stay. In the end, she was sorry for the tension and only wanted to be loved until she died.
Her final wish in this life was to go take another vacation with James back to Silent Hill. She'd always think about the time they spent on the lake, the kisses, the embraces, and all of those memories. And then she remembered that was where the coughs started. Even then, she didn't care. She just wanted to rest her head on James's chest and feel his heart beat under her head. She just wanted to feel serene and at peace.
And I wonder as I tear away my skin. It's taken me so long to stitch these wounds from where I've been.
James took a deep breath. He was going to do it, no matter what. This had to end for the both of them. The suffering, the pain. He took another deep breath and opened the door. When he entered the cold room, she glanced from the fan to him with a weak smile on her face. "James..." She said weakly. His name was going to be her last words. She could smell the alcohol but decided to not pursue the subject any further.
"Mary, I love you." He forced himself to say as he leaned over her and gave her a kiss on the forehead. He meant it, he truly loved her. And he truly hated her. She started to smile. In a forced effort, he yanked the pillow from under Mary's head and shoved it in her face. He made sure it covered her mouth and nose. He could hear her beginning to scream, all the energy she lost seemed to be regained at this moment.
And mother, please don't bury me. I'm begging for my life. It's hard to say I'll be complete before I die.
"Mary!" James bit his lip as she ceased to struggle from beneath the pillow. Her hands which began to claw at James had slumped as did her whole body. Her chest ceased to rise. She ceased to breathe.
Love-Hate-Sex-Pain is complicating me sometimes. Love-Hate-Sex-Pain is underestimating life.
James lifted the pillow from Mary's face, to see her resting peacefully. She looked so serene. Suddenly, he looked at the pillow in his hands. He...murdered her with his bare hands using this pillow! He dropped it suddenly, shocked at his deed. "No! I-I didn't kill her!" He told himself over and over again.
Don't you worry please. Don't leave me because I slowly slip away. Through love, hate, sex, and pain.
James fell to his knees and sobbed on her corpse, holding her hand. Her hands were cold and felt devoid of life. He remembered years ago when he took his hand into hers and slid the wedding ring onto her finger. The tears of happiness pouring down her face at their marriage ceremony. Hands later covered with her own blood from the constant coughing.
I fall away into love, hate, sex, and pain.
James stood up and wiped the tears from his eyes. No...he didn't kill her. The disease was going to kill her. She was going to die. This wasn't his fault. "Not...my fault." He whispered to himself. He stood up and kissed her on the forehead again.
"I love you Mary. This was for the both of us. For both our sakes. Forgive me." He rested the pillow back under her head and left the room to try to forget what happened in this room. He was going to move on.
Through love, hate, sex, and pain.