It's cold because it's still early in the morning. The sky is a clear grey
and the sun is casting a pale glow behind the frosty clouds. Everything
around me is still in dull shades of colour, cast with shadows and dim
light.
I've been doing some walking around, not to anywhere in particular. Just out and about. And now I'm back at the bridge and peering over the railing, staring down into the swirling water.
It looks freezing down there.
I think of icy water, swirling and swishing, gurgling above my head as I land with a splash. I think of flailing and floundering, burbling in bursts of bubbles, choking and gagging. And the steady, relentless sweep of the current, and the dark jagged line of sharp rocks, and everything going black as I dissolve into the rushing water...
And her voice. I heard her screaming as I fell, and that scream went on forever--ringing in my ears, echoing in my head--a high, keening cry that turned into a long wail of anguish.
I didn't die after all, though. They found me and dragged me out. Some stranger walking by saw Alex standing at the railing, still screaming, and called an ambulance. I woke up in a narrow hospital bed with doctors hovering around me, checking their charts, filling needles, taking my pulse and temperature, and I wanted to die.
They left soon after and Alex came in. I could see tear traces on her pale, faded cheeks; her lip was split and smeared with blood--I think she must have bit it too hard, and not noticed. She came into my room and sat down at my bedside.
I didn't look at her. I kept on wanting to die, as a hard, heavy lump of ice froze inside my chest, thinking: Why couldn't I have died in the river? Why couldn't I have been spared this?
"I love you," I heard her say. "Bobby, I love you. I can't help it, even if I tried--you make me love you with everything you do, everything you say. Let me love you, please, let me help you. Please, don't shut me out. Don't-- don't leave. Don't go where nobody can find you. Come back."
She loved me. She loves me.
The block of ice dissolved into a watery blur in my eyes. I held onto her then, holding her close, and cried away all of the grief and anger and tension; I emptied myself into my tears--I let it all go, everything.
Then she bent down her head and kissed me--and not on the cheek or the forehead, but a real kiss, a long one. I've never tasted anything sweeter.
It's getting close to seven now... I should go back inside. The clouds are getting darker and thicker, it looks like it's going to rain. I lift my head, rubbing my stiff, cold fingers together, and--
Did I just hear--?
No. It's only the rustling leaves in the trees. It's nothing.
I stand for a moment longer, lingering at the railing, and listen. But all I hear is the rain as it starts to fall in a light patter, tapping on the stones and splashing in the gurgling river, and the rushing roar of the wind.
***
And so ends what I now call "the story that ate my life and burped it up in a slimy, half-congealed goo two weeks later" :-) Thank you for your reviews, everyone, and see you next time around!
I've been doing some walking around, not to anywhere in particular. Just out and about. And now I'm back at the bridge and peering over the railing, staring down into the swirling water.
It looks freezing down there.
I think of icy water, swirling and swishing, gurgling above my head as I land with a splash. I think of flailing and floundering, burbling in bursts of bubbles, choking and gagging. And the steady, relentless sweep of the current, and the dark jagged line of sharp rocks, and everything going black as I dissolve into the rushing water...
And her voice. I heard her screaming as I fell, and that scream went on forever--ringing in my ears, echoing in my head--a high, keening cry that turned into a long wail of anguish.
I didn't die after all, though. They found me and dragged me out. Some stranger walking by saw Alex standing at the railing, still screaming, and called an ambulance. I woke up in a narrow hospital bed with doctors hovering around me, checking their charts, filling needles, taking my pulse and temperature, and I wanted to die.
They left soon after and Alex came in. I could see tear traces on her pale, faded cheeks; her lip was split and smeared with blood--I think she must have bit it too hard, and not noticed. She came into my room and sat down at my bedside.
I didn't look at her. I kept on wanting to die, as a hard, heavy lump of ice froze inside my chest, thinking: Why couldn't I have died in the river? Why couldn't I have been spared this?
"I love you," I heard her say. "Bobby, I love you. I can't help it, even if I tried--you make me love you with everything you do, everything you say. Let me love you, please, let me help you. Please, don't shut me out. Don't-- don't leave. Don't go where nobody can find you. Come back."
She loved me. She loves me.
The block of ice dissolved into a watery blur in my eyes. I held onto her then, holding her close, and cried away all of the grief and anger and tension; I emptied myself into my tears--I let it all go, everything.
Then she bent down her head and kissed me--and not on the cheek or the forehead, but a real kiss, a long one. I've never tasted anything sweeter.
It's getting close to seven now... I should go back inside. The clouds are getting darker and thicker, it looks like it's going to rain. I lift my head, rubbing my stiff, cold fingers together, and--
Did I just hear--?
No. It's only the rustling leaves in the trees. It's nothing.
I stand for a moment longer, lingering at the railing, and listen. But all I hear is the rain as it starts to fall in a light patter, tapping on the stones and splashing in the gurgling river, and the rushing roar of the wind.
***
And so ends what I now call "the story that ate my life and burped it up in a slimy, half-congealed goo two weeks later" :-) Thank you for your reviews, everyone, and see you next time around!