I walked out onto the street, and turned left, heading north for the airport. I had no idea what I looked like, but by the expressions on the humans that I passed, I must have looked like a dead man walking. That was exactly what I was.
The more I walked, the more my shaking subsided, and I realised it was my cell vibrating, as it had buzzed again. I took it from my pocket, and dropped it in a nearby trash can. I have no idea why, I could have crushed it in my hand to stop the relentless buzz.
It didn't really help, for my body was still buzzing with the last of the vibrations of my violent shaking. But I had to get rid of the cell, because they would try to stop me. My family. My family who had loved me no matter what I had done, and they would love me still, even after I had destroyed them with my passing.
It wasn't good to think of them, because it brought on another fit of shuddering jolts. I had to slip into an alleyway and hide behind a dumpster to calm down. If I hadn't, I was sure someone would have called a paramedic or a local asylum.
I tried to take a few deep breaths, but my breathing was ragged, little rasps. It went in and out in tiny, sobbing gasps. I must have looked like a mad man, but I didn't care. Nothing mattered anymore but my new quest to get to Italy. They would have to help me, and if they didn't, I would have to provoke them to get what I wanted.
My mind was completely set now, and it gave me a little more strength to get going again. My reason for being ceased to be, and soon, I would cease to be.
I got to the airport, and I had to fly to New York first, as there were no direct flights until the next evening. I couldn't wait that long. I asked the girl at the check-in if she could phone ahead and book onto the connecting flight to Florence. I couldn't be bothered with such mundane tasks such as booking the flight myself. And, by her expression, she knew that, too.
Poor guy, she thought. He looks rough. More than rough. He looks, well, like he's dying. If I didn't know better, I would say he already was.
She had no idea how I wished that were true. I closed my eyes, and thanked her for her help.
"No problem," she answered. "Anything I can do to help." Her voice was sincere.
I nodded, and tried to give her a faint smile.
Poor guy, she thought again, as I walked off.
I was lucky with my timing. I could board straight away, but I would have an hour to wait for my connecting flight. Waiting seemed like an impossibility now, but it had to be done. Whenever I had been alone, I was content enough. Not now. Now I was more alone than I had ever been. Now I couldn't even muster up Bella's voice to keep me company, and I didn't care for the sound of being alone.
I got to New York, and began to wait for my connection. It was the early hours of the morning, and the airport was fairly quiet. I was glad. The humans that were there gave me a wide berth. I sat in silence watching the clock. Even my mind was silent. I had managed to block out the thoughts of the other commuters, but not before I caught the tenor of a couple who were meeting up after months apart.
It was torture to listen to. Sickly. I blocked them as soon as I could, and sat with my head between my knees, trying to force my body to be still. Another fit of shaking would not do in here. I was sure I looked mad enough, without the shaking confirming it.
The time dragged by, as I tried to force my mind to see Bella's face again. Still she wouldn't appear. It was as if she never existed at all. I couldn't even summon any memories of the small, magical amount of time we had together. That was painful, knowing I wouldn't be able to look at her beauty at the end.
At last the plane boarded. Another half day and I would be there, begging, if I had to, for them to grant my request. And if God was feeling especially compassionate, he may allow me eternal peace with my Bella.