SEE A DARKNESS
As usual, no copyright infringement.
Dark, sombre, black is the bottomless well I'm falling into, looking at the body on the metal table in the morgue, stripped of all clothes, a white sheet covering her body, from neck down.
Her silk cheeks, my hands caress her lovely face, lingers on the hazel hair, my fingers tremble.
I'm shaking and bending under the storm raging in my head, tears falls from my eyes on hers, if only I could wash away everything we are living now.
I'm living, she's gone. Am I living? Can I live without my baby?
The paramedic have placed her with care on the table so the pathologist took the photos.
No autopsy, I denied my consent, it was too much to see her naked, to see them see her naked, no one would touch her any more, neither Saga, I'm the only one. I'm her father, her words crystallised in my brain, a moment of intense joy bigger than the day she was born.
Her face is perfect, her eyelids close to keep the evil away from her sight.
Astrid lost blood, so much blood and two stains are still forming on the white sheet, the leg and the heart, where the bullet killed her.
I have a white dress in my hand, to prepare her for the grave, white for a blossoming flower, for a life that was innocent. She deserves white and white roses and white curtains and I'm the darkness and the night closes around my body.
In fifteen years I've had her for seven and three days and I've lost her twice, my hopes are lost.
Saga opens the door hidden in the wall, her strange voice comes from another planet, not from a few meters from me.
And Saga is small in the distance, she comes close, she fails, her timing is five seconds late, she shoots twice, to destroy Brian's face completely.
Red blood, splattered over me and that covers me.
It is too late, we're too late.
Saga comes close and I show her away, forcefully, to make her fall on the floor, a load thud and I cradle my dead baby in my arms, Lillian and the doctors arrive and scream.
They try to separate me and Astrid, I shout, kick and fight without control, until a sting in my arm makes me fall in a slumber.
Inside the bright white chapel I'm alone in front of the coffin. I can't, I can't bear this again, I can't see another grave, my lungs are closed, I can't breathe, I'm choking and coughing and there is not enough air for me.
The priest clad in black lifts a cross up in the air and I lock all the doors from inside, frantically, no one can enter, nor Lillian standing outside the window nor Saga who is knocking and pushing and cursing me to open.
The funeral is few words spoken by the priest with long white hair, she's a woman, not a man, and Astrid's gone with her mother, her sister and the ghost of Saga's child.
I envy them, together in heaven where there's no pain, no guilt, no sorrow and I'm in hell, I deserve my hell, and the priest unlock the door, I see them all, entering slowly, reaching me, offering hands and compassionate smiles.
Saga first, her face shows hours of tears shed, she leans on the chairs to support herself, until she crumbles at my feet. I stare at her and don't help her: her fault, she found Astrid and placed my baby on the spot for the killer.
Saga was meant to die, Astrid was everything I had, she was my world.
Saga calls for me, lifts an arm toward me and I run desperately away, from her, from Lillian, from my parents, from blurred red faces that are flooding the church. Steps that follow me, I run faster.
In my car there is something I need, hidden in the glove box in a plastic bag.
Ten meters to get it, five, two, the handle opens and I grab the thin shining object, small, perfect in its precision, I lift it and point at my head.
My last memory is Saga's face and her silent scream….
A hand on my shoulder, shaking me, a familiar voice telling me it's a nightmare, because I'm sweating and trembling and it is 3 am.
"At six we have to wake up to fill the car and leave."
I look around, our bedroom, with all the lights on and the sheets on the floor, while Saga caresses my arm.
"The bad one?"
I nod, the only thing I can do, my head spins when I stand up and I lean on the closet.
"How did you killed yourself this time?"
"A small silver gun."
"Stop watching westerns after eating cod and potatoes, it's the second time you have the dream after that food."
I go for the door and hear her voice pleading me.
"They're sleeping, don't wake up all the house."
The first bedroom door is closed, I carefully open it and the light from the first floor corridor reveals Astrid's sleeping frame, her soft snoozes, still suffering from the cold she got in the swimming pool. My young athlete, if she started years ago - her coach told me - she could have become a great swimmer, a European competitor indeed.
The second one is ajar, the bear shaped lamp between the small beds on. Two blue duvets cover the kids, Winnie the Pooh for my baby boy and the heroines of Frozen for his twin sister; blond and dark brown heads, like Saga and me.
Sleeping, breathing and both alive.
Back in our bedroom, Saga pats she space I left empty.
"Come to bed, tomorrow we'll start the first holiday in our summerhouse."
"I'm coming."
All will go well, I'm sure now.