'Till Death Do Us Part

"We must be willing to let go of the life we have planned, so as to have the life that is waiting for us."

E.M. Forster

One could not have asked for a more beautiful day. The sky was clear, the air brisk, and the wind subtle. As she gazed out through her bedroom window, Bree Van De Kamp could see a group of young boys, no older than ten years of age, running through Wisteria Lane. They were enjoying the day; living only for the present. They need not worry about the future, nor dwell on the past. These children, just as many others, were carefree, restless, and full of life. Most importantly, however, they were genuinely happy. Their young souls filled with bliss…yet to be scorned by the hardships of life. Bree could not take her eyes off of this small group of children. As much as she tried to deny it, she felt an overwhelming sense of jealousy. These naïve young boys…what she wouldn't give to feel a sense of naivety again. Bree gently put her palm up to the windowsill, tracing a small circle around the glass. "Embrace the day, boys" she whispered.

Rex Van De Kamp had been gone for barely 24 hours, and Bree had already cleaned out each room of her already immaculate home. Every bed was remade, every utensil washed, every article of clothing refolded. A few drawers, however, remained untouched: those which contained Rex's belongings. Bree had tried to reorganize her husband's clothing…she wanted everything to be neat and perfect for him… just in case he were to come home. She would fantasize about Rex walking through the door at any moment. It was thoughts such as these which kept her Yet every time she went to refold one of her husband's sweaters, or iron a pair of khakis, she felt as if the article of clothing burned her hand. She couldn't even bear to touch.

Andrew and Danielle had remained in one another's rooms for most of the day. Neither would eat or drink; regardless of the various dishes their mother prepared. Bree knew she needed to check on them every so often…but she couldn't bring herself to see their faces. They blamed her for the death of their father…she could see it in their eyes. Without words, her children made her believe that if she weren't such a burden, their father would still be alive.

Bree felt tears welling up once again her eyes. She needed a distraction, but everywhere she turned, she saw him. Rex lived in every room, not only in photographs, but in memories. Bree figured that if she sat in the same place for long enough, and focused on the outdoors, she wouldn't see him, nor would she feel so empty. This system worked for a short time, but didn't last. The redhead slowly reached a standing position, but immediately grabbed on to the nightstand, in order to ground herself. As soon as she looked down she saw Rex's watch laying right next to her fingertips. She gasped as her hand jumped back, as if she had just been shocked.

"Get a hold of yourself, Bree." she mumbled, approaching the bedroom mirror. Her eyes were tired, her face tear-stained. She appeared years older, though she had only been "aging" for one day. Using a damp cloth, Bree wiped her face, trying to clear-up her tearstained cheeks. It was then she made her way across the hallway, and came face to face with her son Andrew's closed door.

"Andrew, honey…" she was surprised at the sound of her voice. It was raspy and meek, nothing like her usual tone. She cleared her throat, waiting for a response. "Can I please come in? You haven't eaten all day and I think it would be wise to at least have a snack of some sort…" No response. "Andrew?" she took matters into her own hands, and slowly opened her son's door. She found both Andrew along with Danielle perched on his bed. Danielle's face was red and her tears were still falling. It appeared as if Andrew were attempting to comfort his sister.

"Oh sweetie-" Bree's motherly instincts kicked in.

"Don't touch her." Andrew replied sternly.

"Andrew!"

"I said don't touch her! Just get out of here, okay?"

"I know…I know you're upset right now but don't shut me out. Please. Not now." this was more of a plea than a request. "Please…"

"You know I'm upset right now? Try devastated. No…try completely destroyed." Bree heard her son mutter the same few words she had told Rex just a few nights before.

At this point she could only stare back at her son. The overwhelming sense of guilt which had already taken its toll on her was unmanageable.

"Dad was sitting on the stairs, right down there…" Danielle cut in, her voice timid. "He was practically dying, mom. You know he could have died right there and you wouldn't have even cared." emotion was becoming apparent in her voice. "And why?…" she looked up at Bree with glassy eyes. "…because you had to make your bed. YOUR BED, MOM. You could care less about dad. You wanted this to happen. LOOK AT YOU, you're not even crying!" Danielle had now reached the point where she was screaming in between sobs.

"Danielle. No. I would never ever…I-"

"Look what you're doing to her, mom. Just get out. Please. Just go."

Bree felt helpless. She reluctantly obeyed her son, closing the door behind her…losing all that was left of her crumbling family.