Chapter 17
Trigger warning: Suicidal thoughts
-10 years ago-
Erik awoke in his new apartment, the bright light of the late afternoon sun shining through the windows. Surrounded by unpacked boxes, he slowly sat up in bed. He had dreamt of fire and pain again. Upon awaking, the fire dissipated, but not the agonizing throbbing coming from his upper face. He wearily grabbed the small bottle of pills off of a nearby box and swallowed a couple painkillers, coughing dryly after. He looked around the dark room. His eyes still a little blurry from sleep. He stood up and made his way blearily to the bathroom.
He washed his hands after relieving himself and when he looked up at his reflection, he startled. Still not used to the unfamiliar face looking back at him. His hands gripped the edges of the cold white porcelain sink. He stared angrily at his own reflection, filled with rage. His anger slowly turned to despair and his eyes stung as tear began to well up in them. He hated what that fire took from him. He couldn't bear to look at the hideous creature in the mirror and before he could stop himself, he threw a quick punch at the mirror, shattering the glass and slicing up his knuckles in one swift moment. He never really was very good at controlling his temper. He looked down at the blood dripping from his hand into the sink. He let his pain swell and he found himself walking to the small balcony of his apartment building. He was on the 5th floor. It would probably be high enough. He thought grimly.
He stood on the balcony, gripping the railing tightly. While looking down over the edge, he saw someone below walk up to the building next to his. It was a girl, wearing a red backpack. He followed her with his eyes, watching her walk up to the doors of the building and go inside. His mind was completely blank and he wasn't sure why he was fixating so hard on her. About a minute later, he noticed a light turn on in an apartment, directly across from his, but one story lower. He saw in through the living room window, it was the girl. She had curly brown hair. He watched her hang up her backpack and pull a thick textbook out of it. She set the textbook on the table and then went to the fridge, pulled out an apple and ate it. She began to do her homework and for some reason he couldn't look away.
He sat gripping the railing for the next two hours. Just watching the girl. His trance was broken by someone else walking into the girl's apartment. It was an older man, with grey hair, and a violin case slung across his back. The girl greeted him with a hug, and they seemed to engage in small talk before ordering takeout together. the light began to dim and he watched them get ready for bed and then the lights turned out and they had gone to bed. Erik wasn't sure why, but something about this father and daughter, and their simple afternoon and evening together, moved him. He walked back into his apartment, looked around at the scattered boxes and furniture and he began to unpack.
The next few years were a slow healing process for Erik. He had received a large settlement because of the fire, and he had requested that he get his old job back, once the building had been repaired. Which the company had gladly agreed to in lieu of a lawsuit over his injuries. His wounds healed up nicely, according to his doctors. But the thing that helped his mind, was the simple act of watching the girl and her father through the windows. He had a nightly ritual of pouring himself a glass of whiskey and sitting out on the balcony, just staring for hours. His spirits were crushed when they weren't home, and he was sometimes hanging by a thread, watching their lives play out before him.
He knew it wasn't healthy, to be so obsessed with their comings and goings, but he couldn't help be fixated by them. The father was some kind of professional violinist. Erik often saw him practice in their living room, while his daughter would listen happily and clap afterwards. They seemed content together. Erik wondered what happened to the girl's mother, but he had resigned himself to never find out.
After a few more years, the girl went off to college and Erik watched her father practice alone in the empty house, feeling his loneliness somehow. Then after another year or so, he noticed the father grow paler and thinner. He watched tearfully as he sat the girl down and they had a long talk that ended with a lot of hugging and crying. He then saw the girl start to move back in. She began to spend all her time caring for her weakening father, no longer having friends over, or going out in the evenings. After a few more years, the father stopped getting out of bed. Erik's heart broke for his little family as the father's body was wheeled out one night.
As the girl donned a black dress and looked sadly out her living room window alone, on the day of the funeral, Erik realized that he loved her. She was truly alone in the world, just like he was. He noticed for the first time how much he honestly cared for the girl, now a young woman. How much he longed to know her name. Even what her voice sounded like was an elusive mystery that he vowed then and there to solve.