The small apartment was cold and there was a bite to the air that made Alexandria wish she had thrown that extra blanket on the bed instead of putting it away in the drawer. As the sun peeked through the narrow break in the curtains, it sent a glare off the glossy red paint and into Alexandria's eyes. The paint on the wall had been so brilliant, so vibrant, only a month or two ago. But now everything in Alexandria's path was cold, dim and dreary. The world had lost its light, and though the sun kept shining, it knew better than to bother Alexandria with its warm rays. Rising, rising...ever-so-slowly up out of the bed, which was low to the ground and when Alexandria threw her hand dramatically over the edge of the bed, it hit the floor. She felt no pain from it, not only because it was not a far enough fall to hurt her, but because she felt nothing. Nothing...except for guilt. As she turned in the bed, she contemplated just rolling over, placing the pillow over her head, and waiting for this day to pass. Then the next day, then the next. She was absent of the feeling that could tell her time had passed, every day blurred endlessly into the next. But she had not felt like this before. Before...Though it was only days before, she felt it had been months, years...As though her whole life should be gone by now. And she wished it had gone. She'd see her friends from time to time, and they would speak lovingly to her, but lately, it had been less soothing and more mindless chatter.
"Don't you think it's about time you get up and make something more of yourself?"
"Don't you get bored of lying around all the time feeling sad and sorry?"
"Dear, there was nothing you could have done. Nothing. So get over this and start again."
But they didn't know. Sure they had seen it, seen some of it anyway, but what happened behind the curtain, before the curtain was raised, that was what held her sorrow. What happened when only the two of them were watching. The two of them. She wished there were still two of them. Now there was just one. She was doomed to be alone, and though she wanted to move on, guilt plagued her, it followed her, it took the dimension and color from her life. Alexandria. She would say her own name to herself endlessly. Alexandria. And usually more followed...Alexandria, how did you end up this way? Alexandria, why did you do that? Why has everything turned out this way? Alexandria, will you ever be you again? Will you ever move on? I want to move on! I do, but how? How can I when I have done something so terrible. I blame myself, I have only myself to blame. She remembered a song she had heard yesterday:
"Blame it on the past,
It's the last place I knew you."
Then she wondered. Did I know you? Maura...did I know you? Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you TELL ME!?! Then, she realized she had been screaming the last words aloud. Maura had been her best friend. They lived together, they shared the same profession, and they shared the thing that took Maura away. They shared a love, for the MOULIN ROUGE.