Since You Been Gone

It was Autumn, a season of contrasting beauty and melancholy. A season where the crisp brown leaves flutter through the air like birds, a season where nature is in a perpetual state of decay. Chloe Beale walked through the graveyard clutching a bouquet of flowers to her chest. She was wearing a coat as black as a raven's feather. She wore a black beanie hat that was pulled down tightly to protect her ears from the bitter cold that raged around her. She stopped walking and turned to face the grave, she kneeled down, removed the last bouquet of flowers that she had left there and replaced them with the fresh new flowers. She put the dead flowers into a plastic bag that she would dispose of later and stuffed it into her coat pocket. She removed one of the black gloves she was wearing and ran her bare hand down the grave stone, her fingers brushing lightly over the lettering carved into the stone. A single crystal clear tear ran slowly down her cheeks, which were red with the bitter cold. She removed the tear with a finger and got to her feet, she smiled at the grave stone and walked away, she didn't need to say a word. On her way out of the graveyard she removed the plastic bag from her coat pocket and threw it into a rusting metal bin.

Chloe left through the large rust-coated gates that creaked when they were pushed open. The red head walked up to a small blue car, unlocked it and got in. She rested her hands on the steering wheel and stared off into the distance thinking over everything that had happened over the last year. The memories flooded her mind like water bursting through a dam and Chloe broke down into tears. She just sat there, her hands clasping the steering wheel and shedding streams of tears. When the tears had subsided, Chloe was unaware of how much time had passed but she was aware of the streaks of mascara that ran down her face. She wiped her hands across her face, removing most of the mascara, which led to the palm of her hands being covered in black smudges.

"Come on Chloe, be strong. It's been twelve months now, move on." Chloe said sternly, glaring at herself in the rear view mirror. She inhaled deeply and exhaled heavily as her grief counsellor had taught her to do and instantly she felt a wave of calm wash slowly over her. She started the car, the engine purring into life like a lethargic cat, slowly waking from a long nap, she pulled onto the road and headed home.

Chloe stood in the elevator, humming along to the repetitive tune crackling through the tinny speakers. There was a ding and the doors rattled open and Chloe stepped out into the corridor and walked briskly to the door of her apartment. She inserted the key into the lock, turned it and walked into her apartment closing the door softly behind her. Chloe removed her coat, hanging it upon the hook on the back of the door and she placed her bag on the coffee table before collapsing into a chair.

The bathroom door opened and Beca walked out, a towel wrapped around her body, and her long brown hair was clinging to her back, utterly soaked. She saw Chloe sitting in the chair and jumped slightly.

"Oh Chloe, you're back! I didn't hear you come in." Beca said, a distinct note of surprise in her voice. Chloe looked up at her girlfriend and smiled.

"Hi Beca! I am so disappointed in you." Chloe said, her tone switching from perkiness to disapproval. Beca looked surprised and crestfallen.

"Why are you disappointed in me?" she asked, folding her arms defensively.

"I'm disappointed because you took a shower without me!" Chloe said, unable to keep a straight face and breaking down into laughter. Beca started laughing as well and she continued laughing as she went into her room to dry herself off and get changed. Chloe sat in the chair for a few minutes, twiddling her thumbs before boredom overtook her and she decided to follow Beca into her room. The red head entered Beca's room and shut the door behind her with a soft click. Beca spun around as she finished buttoning up her shirt and smiled.

"Couldn't bear to be away for five minutes." Beca said teasingly, walking slowly up to Chloe and kissing her gently on the lips. She ran her hands through the beautiful red hair that she loved so much and she felt her fingers brush over something papery. She pulled out a brown leaf that had fallen from one of the trees in the cemetery and had become lodged in Chloe's hair. Beca's face turned serious.

"Beca, what's wrong?" Chloe asked, worry sneaking into her voice like a mouse sneaking into a larder. Beca looked up and held the leaf out in front of Chloe.

"Did you go to the cemetery again today?" Beca asked, her voice taking on an interrogative nature. Chloe's eyes welled up.

"I had too, Beca. You know it's something I need to do, for closure. My grief counsellor said…" Chloe began, but Beca held up a hand and she stopped talking instantly.

"I don't care what your grief counsellor said, you know I don't like being around you when you've been to the cemetery. It un-nerves me a lot! I'm going to go and clear my head; I need a few moments alone. I think we both do." Beca said, rushing past Chloe and leaving the room. Chloe stood stock still for a few moments and then left Beca's room and entered the main body of the apartment, which was completely empty. Beca had left the apartment altogether leaving Chloe alone with her thoughts. The red head walked slowly over to the coffee table and picked up her mobile, scrolled through her contacts and found Beca's number and hit the dial button. Chloe waited for the dial tone and as soon as it began she could hear a phone ringing in Beca's room. Once again, the headstrong brunette had left her phone behind.

Chloe decided that if she was going to be alone she may as well do something productive. She scrolled through her contacts until she found the number of her grief counsellor and she hit the call button. A dial tone sounded in her ear and after a few rings her call was answered.

"Hello?" The voice belonged to an elderly man, who Chloe guessed was in his early seventies.

"Hello Dr Stamford. Could I book an appointment with you on Wednesday at ten o'clock?" Chloe asked politely. There was silence at the end of the line as Dr Stamford flicked through his appointments book.

"You're in luck, I have a free slot at ten o'clock, so I'll mark you in. What's your name?" Dr Stamford asked.

"Chloe Beale, I had weekly meetings with you up until two months ago." Chloe said, disappointed that he'd forgotten her so quickly.

"Ah yes, Miss Beale. I remember you from your previous sessions, I was rather hoping I would never have to see you again." Dr Stamford said sadly. Chloe sighed with resignation.

"I know. I was hoping I'd never have to see you again, but it's happening again and it's gradually getting worse." Chloe said forlornly, her hands quivering as she came to terms with a truth that she had been denying for weeks.

"Oh dear, I was hoping you would have moved past that phase." Dr Stamford said, pity in his voice.

"I was hoping that too." Chloe said, her voice barely audible, hanging up the phone. She went into her own room and collapsed on the bed and looked up at the ceiling and she slowly fell asleep as cold waves of dread and despair washed over and submerged her.