Note:
The idea for the following story came to me some time ago when I heard Willie Nelson´s song 'She Is Gone' on the radio...
Warning: the story contains extreme angst and character death scene…
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His head dropped heavily on his forearm as he suddenly fell asleep… just for a few seconds…for the first time in what, three or four days? For Adrian, it could have easily been a decade…
Sitting at his writing desk, he didn´t know how much time he had spent over the newspaper reading through the concise article on page 4, that was accompanied with a picture from the scene, the burned car…Trudy´s car... It was so hard to see it… Every time Adrian´s eyes drifted over the picture, he gritted his teeth, whimpering in agony.
Adrian struggled against those unwelcomed, awful and terrifying fragments of memories that were repeatedly emerge from the corners of his brain, brought back by the article. It was all too fresh, too painful.
…The odor... the first thing he remembered was the smell of burned flesh... and blood... and chlorine...
Adrian closed his eyes as he recalled the phone call he had received at the police department.
"God... no… not again," he whined, trying to shake off pictures that violently entered his mind...
…Laughter … Someone said something funny and all of them laughed... He felt happy...
…Ringing telephone…'Monk! It´s your wife…'
Adrian began to hyperventilate, tears gathering in his eyes. Now, he knew that in his mind and heart, he was going to go through that hell again…
…Seemingly endless ride in a car… Lieutenant Stottlemeyer was driving…'What if I'm going to lose her, Leland'… 'You´re not gonna lose her, Monk'…
…Furious run along the hospital corridor before flinging the door open and bursting into the room… 'God… Please, let it not be her… Let it not be true!'…
…'Sir, this is a surgery room, you´re not allowed in…'
…Hideous mixture of odors… doctors in blue uniforms and masks … the false hope it might not be her… too brief hope…
Adrian covered his eyes with his trembling hands, sinking even deeper into the hopeless desperation.
…And was back in the surgery room attempting to push the man aside…'Please…I´begging you, it´s my wife! For God´s sake, let me in! Let me see her!'
…They lead him to the bed… 'Oh my God... No...This cannot be true'
….Her body was so severely damaged he first couldn´t recognize her… her burned frame... the large blisters... the open bleeding wounds...her broken nose... the large bruise on hr temple...
'No, cant´t think about that anymore... Oh God... can´t stop thinking about that'...
… It was all too horrible to be true. For a moment, just a split second, he thought it was just a dream… awful, nasty, torturous nightmare… but still only a dream…
…But when he looked at her devastated, almost motionless body he knew it was real…
…Shaking with terror, he quickly stepped closer and knelt down next to his wife who somehow sensed his presence and struggled to open her eyes… those soft, blue eyes that had always looked at him so lovingly, making him shiver inside… Adrian took a shaky breath, a brief feeling of relief washed over him, followed by the most excruciating feeling of total helplessness… God, he would have given anything to be able to help her, to heal her or better, to exchange places with her…
…Nearly blinded by tears he found himself on the edge of his sanity. Staring at her he knew that what he saw would haunt him for the rest of his life…
…Trudy´s chest moved heavily up and down, her breath was ragged and shallow. To his dismay, Adrian realized how much effort it took her to breathe… God… God… please, help her…
…She began to slowly move her hand and then the other one, her cold fingers ligtly touched Adrian´s trembling hand… He wanted to say something… wanted to promise her she was going to be alright, that he wasn´t going anywhere and that he loved her, but no voice was formed in his tightened throat… he could barely breathe like it was him who was injured so badly… he could feel her pain…
…She grasped his hand with both hers, raising her sapphire eyes to him… they were shining like two brightest stars in the dark sky…
…'Adr-…' she tried to speak, her voice quiet and raspy, but gave up immediately. Instead, she squeezed his hand, sending him all the love she felt for him…
…Shaking with repressed weeping and fear, he felt panic creeping unstoppably into his heart… Trudy´s eyes were so calm… too calm…
…Somehow, she managed to smile at him. Despite all his valiant effort Adrian couldn´t to do the same for her…
…'T- Trudy,' he whispered…
…Her lips began to move again, but it seemed she had no power to speak…
…Leaning closer to her, with his other hand he started stroking her hair matted with blood, looking into her face… the most beautiful face in the world, now damaged and almost unrecognizable…
…Words left her lips rather like a hot breath: …'Bread …and… butter…'
…Once more she weakly squeezed her husband´s hand…
…And her chest stood still…
… As through a veil of mist Adrian saw a doctor checking Trudy´s life functions and shaking his head, offering Adrian words of regret…
…Overwhelmed by sorrow, Adrian began to panic openly… Someone spoke to him but their words meant nothing…
…All his world had just fallen apart like a house of cards… and so had he… For the first time in his life he sincerely wished not to be…
Rubbing his burning eyes, he realized he was crying. It felt like he was crying all the time…Tears were streaming down his cheeks and dropping onto the plastic surface of the evidence bag in which he kept the paper, giving him no relief from the agonizing pain in his chest, the pain of his soul…
She was gone…
Focusing his sight on the headline of the article, Adrian let out a whimper. The headline said: 'Detectives Wife Slain.' For a moment, he felt like he was about to start vomiting… God, why?… Why her?
She was gone… and it was all because of him, Adrian Monk! The bomb had been placed under the passenger seat. It was clear it had been meant for him… Adrian hid his face in his hands… Oh, why hadn´t he been the one to enter the car that day… Why Trudy?… He would never stop asking why?
It was cold… or maybe it wasn´t, but Adrian was shaking all over his body. Even though the window blinds were closed, he could tell it was morning outside. Someone walked up the street, singing a Christmas carol under his breath.
Adrian´s unshaven face touch felt unpleasantly rough… he hadn´t shaved since Trudy´s funeral which had taken place three days ago… and why should he? He could see no point in shaving… or washing… or eating… or even breathing…
She was gone for good… Someone had taken her from him. Someone had ripped her brutally out of Adrian´s life, leaving a deep, bleeding wound in his heart.
There must have been something in the picture above the article… some clue that would lead him to the one who was responsible for that… Adrian knew he would find that out… he would find the son of the bitch and then he would kill him…
Shaking with rage and axiety, Adrian rose and shuffled over to the book case. Picked one of the photo albums, took it from the shelf and slumped onto the couch. Fresh tears gathered in his eyes when he opened the album, looking at the first picture of Trudy and himself… It had been taken seven years ago, five days before their wedding…They both smiled so happily… Adrian could recall every detail of that day. His heart warmed up with the surge of love he had felt for Trudy… the same love he had been feeling all over the years and even now, his devotion to his wife hadn´t died with her…
He couldn´t withstand looking at the picture anymore… it was too much to bear… it hurt as if his heart would burst…
Carefully, he stroked Trudy´s face and closed the album, placing it on the coffee table, and collapsed sideways on the couch, curling himself in a ball… Feeling lost and broken, he cried like a small child until he, exhausted, fell into a restless yet merciful sleep…
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