A Candle and A Shrine
A candle and a shrine, that was all she had left of him. With no body to bury, she didn't have a grave to mourn at. The flowers that she'd bought that morning lay limply on the white table cloth were she had left them. She was still numb. He was gone and, somehow, she had survived. It was unreal to her, as unreal as the pain from her injuries. Standing, she fingered the plastic wrapper on the flowers, reaching for a sharp knife to slit it open. Placing the stainless steel blade against the wrapper, she stabbed a hole into it, starting to cut. It yielded easily to the blade, spilling the white lilies onto the table.
She gathered them in one hand, reaching for the slightly chipped vase that he'd given her with the other. She half filled it with water, dropping the flowers into it randomly. They didn't look right, and she took them back out of the vase, trimming the bottoms and standing them in with more care this time. Arranging them with more care, she set them in the middle of the table, in between a framed photo of him and a large candle. The wick stood proud and white, un-lit as of yet.
Picking up the picture of him, the tears came fast and hot. She wanted to fight them, to stop them from dripping onto the white cloth, but she had no fight left in her. Her core of steel was worn down to a mere nub by the events in her life. Trembling, she bowed her head, letting her tears take over her. It should have been cathartic, making her feel better, but she felt worse once her eyes had run dry. Leaning forward, she let her head rest on the table, next to the only photo of him she had. The silver frame had finger marks on it from her hands, and she polished them away with the sleeve on her black top.
Exhausted by her sorrow, it was only natural that she should sleep. He came to her, so real that the bittersweet sight of him sent shards of pain through her heart. She thought that she stopped breathing then. Sometimes the greatest joy comes from the greatest sorrow, and that was what she was feeling right now. She'd never expected to see him again, and yet, she had. It was a wonderful gift, no matter how bittersweet it was.
"Vaughn." She said, simply, that one word conveying all that she needed to say for now. It was packed with meaning, with the emotions she couldn't find words to express or energy to try to explain.
"Sydney," He said warmly, and with a shock, she saw that he was wearing the clothes he had died in. The smart black suit hung as well on him in death as it had in life. His crisp white shirt was unbuttoned at the neck, tie loosened. He looked beautiful to her. His hair was messy, blown back from his face by the light wind. It was longer than she'd seen it, and she longed to run her fingers through it.
How did she choose the things she wanted to say to him? There were so many and time was so limited. Eternity wouldn't be long enough for her to tell him everything she felt. "I miss you." She said finally.
"I'm always with you." He said. A hint of a smile hovered around the corners of his mouth, and she wondered how he could be happy. She didn't think she'd ever be happy again.
"No, you're not." She countered bravely. "You left me and I want you back."
"I'm here." He said, touching his fingertips to her chest, over her heart. Even that tiny contact was enough to send shivers down her spine. Strange that she could see his hands. In every other dream she'd had, no-one had hands. She was longing for his touch so much, she thought that she could feel those warm fingers against her skin. She looked down, not surprised to find herself in the red dress she had been wearing. A light breeze tossed her curly hair, and she looked around her for the first time.
The park was quite, lit by a thousand tiny lights in the trees. The earth beneath her feet was damp, and fragrant. Spread out like waiting soldiers, empty wooden park benches waited until they would be used. The few earlier flowers that had come through gave the air a subtle scent, and added tiny splashes of colour.
"Please…" She said, almost begging, "Come back. I need you with me."
"I can't. You know that." He said, sadly. "I wish I could. There are so many things I want to do, to share with you. Do them for me?"
She blinked the tears away. "I will."
"I love you." He said, unexpectedly.
"You do?" She said, wiping her eyes as the tears overflowed. A few escaped down her cheeks, and she let him wipe them away.
"Always. I'm your angel. I'm with you wherever you are." He said.
"I love you." She told him, trying to take hold of his hand. But her fingers went straight through and she looked at him in puzzlement.
He simply smiled at her. "We'll be together when the time is right."
"You promise?" She asked, her damp eyes on his handsome face.
"I promise." He told her, not breaking eye contact as he said it.
Kissing her, he turned and walked away, never looking back. She watched him go, wanting to call his name but not being able to make a sound. When she woke a few minutes later, the white candle on the table was lit, flame burning brightly in the dim room. She let it burn, feeling a new beginning start to blossom inside of her heart. She could live again. Michael was waiting for her, and that was something she would cherish until they were together again.