Heart of Steel

Heartache

I opened my eyes and slowly lifted my head until I saw James sitting in the chair Steelman had been sleeping in the previous night. He looked almost exactly as I had pictured him, except that he wasn't wearing sunglasses. He had dark brown eyes and a short, stubby nose. He no longer had a beard, but much like Steelman, he did have a bit of a 5 o'clock shadow. He also looked thinner than the man in my memory. James jumped slightly in surprise when he saw that my eyes were open.

"Miss Wilson! I didn't realize you were awake!" he said, getting up and walking closer to the bed. I blinked and smiled softly, but remained silent.

"Do you know who I am?" he asked apprehensively.

I nodded.

"James." I said simply.

He smiled and nodded his head vehemently.

"That's right! And do you remember how you know me?" he asked, tilting his head to the left inquisitively.

"You're a guard. For my dad." I said slowly.

"That's what you've been told, yes, but do you have any memories with me in them?" he pressed.

I stared at him for a few seconds, wondering why it was so important that I remembered him specifically.

"I remember you standing in front of a limo wearing a black suit and black sunglasses. You were holding the door open for me and I was wearing a green dress."

James smiled kindly and nodded again.

"That was your prom night!" he said excitedly.

My eyes widened in surprise. I hadn't remembered this detail before, but as soon as he said it I envisioned standing next to a young man, probably 17 or 18, with a black tuxedo and a silky emerald tie holding out a corsage for me.

Trent. He was your prom date. You also went with your two best friends. Maggie and Danika.

I closed my eyes for a few seconds and saw all 3 faces. Trent was thin with a long pointy nose and blue-green eyes, strawberry blonde hair that covered his forehead and curled outward at the ends, and high cheek bones. Maggie was nothing short of gorgeous, with her tan skin, black hair and caramel brown eyes that seemed to shine brilliantly, and plump, dark pink lips. Of course, her makeup was fully done in that memory, so her lips might not have naturally been dark pink. She was wearing a strapless fuchsia ballgown with a glittery belt and her hair was in an elegant bun with one curly strand hanging down in the front. Danika, or Dani as I remember calling her, had breathtaking dark red hair, pale skin, dark brown eyes, and gleaming white teeth. Her dress was a light blue color and had a slit that came up to her mid thigh. I got the feeling that Trent and I weren't in a romantic relationship; more like good friends who both needed a date. Dani was dangling on the arm of a gorgeous and cocky looking guy who wore a white tuxedo and a baby blue tie that matched Dani's dress.

"I... remember that. Sort of. But why did you come with us?" I asked him.

"I was working security that night. Your father rarely ever lets you go anywhere alone. I stayed in the shadows, though, and you didn't seem to mind. What all do you remember?"

I recited my memories to him in detail as his eyes steadily grew more and more round. When I was done, he squinted at me, seemingly lost in concentration.

"Hmm. And you don't remember anything after your 18th birthday?" he asked me.

I shook my head after mentally reaching for more with no results.

"How interesting." he said in a fascinated tone.

"Listen, Kasey... I need to tell you something. And unfortunately, it isn't good news." said James, perching himself at the foot of my hospital bed and looking me directly in the eyes.

I took a deep breath, bracing myself, then gave him a solitary nod.

James opened his mouth, closed it again, then closed his eyes and blew out a heavy sigh. When he opened them again, his jaw was set with a sorrowful determination. I knew he didn't want to do this, but we both knew he had to. I waited patiently for what seemed like an hour, my heartbeat thumping loudly in my eardrums, trying not to show the panic I was feeling.

"Do you remember your mother?" James asked me slowly, observing my facial expressions carefully.

"Yes..." I said tentatively, terrified of where this was going.

“What do you remember about her?"

I scowled at him, frustrated beyond belief that he was questioning me further instead of just telling me what the hell was wrong.

"Her name is Kira. She had a twin brother named Kale, but he died of cancer a few years ago. When she worked, she was a Wedding Planner. A really good one, at that. But she quit when my dad ran for... some political position to be his Campaign Manager. She hates driving, cooking and watching TV. She loves the color green, which is why we picked the prom dress I wore. She also loves horses and anything chocolate. Oh, and me. She told me on my 18th birthday that I'm her favorite person in the whole world."

Each word that I spoke seemed to come to me naturally without my brain having to search for it. My mom never left my memory, unlike the other details. She never left my heart. I began to wonder if the reason I had felt sad when remembering her yesterday was because I somehow knew she hadn't been to visit me, although I couldn't understand why.

James' eyes filled with tears at my last sentence as mine widened in fear upon seeing the expression on his face.

"James... What happened?" was all I could manage to say.

"You will always be her favorite person." he said somberly.

"James!!" I bellowed.

I couldn't take the waiting anymore. It was all too much.

"She... was in an accident, Kasey. 6 weeks after you turned 18. It... it took her life." he said finally, his voice breaking on his last word.

Everything in my body froze, including my heart. It was as though I had been doused in piercing cold ice water that stopped my muscles and organs from moving. Tears rushed down my paralyzed face as I stared into James' eyes, wondering why anyone would be so cruel as to tell a lie like this. My mother wasn't... she couldn't be... No. No freaking way. Impossible! Suddenly, after what seemed an eternity, my lungs and neck muscles found their way free of their excruciating bindings as I took a large gulp of air and began shaking my head violently.

"Don't... don't - say - that!" I managed to choke out, quite literally, as my throat was seizing up.

I felt a blinding pain in my chest, as though someone was literally trying to carve my heart out of my body with a sharp instrument. The aching was so intense that I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs, but all they could seem to do was desperately search for air. One of the machines near my bed began emitting a loud beeping sound that echoed in my ears as blackness crept slowly inward from the corners of my vision. I felt as though I was on a boat in the middle of a storm, jerking and swaying violently with no control. Then everything went blank.

After finding my way out of the void I had been plunged into, I realized that I was sitting in the pew of a cold, dimly lit room with dark red carpeting, staring at an enormous white screen that had pictures of my mom plastered across it. It was a slideshow of what seemed like all the pictures that had ever been taken of her. There were some from her childhood, one from her wedding to my father where she was wearing a beaded white dress with hideously puffy sleeves, and dozens with her and me in them. They seemed to convey her life in chronological order, all the way up until my prom night.

When I saw the picture of her standing next to me in my green dress, I was taken aback. I hadn't remembered what my face looked like until just now. I was slightly taller than her, although I was wearing silver strappy heels that seemed to be about 3 inches in height, and my hair was blonde, like hers, but darker. Unfortunately I hadn't inherited her gorgeous green eyes, but my father's cobalt blue ones. They contrasted nicely with my tan skin, which I had no doubt gotten artificially for this very occasion. My smile was pretty, but not nearly as dazzling as hers, and I had her button nose and my dad's round chin. I looked like a younger, slightly altered version of her, though she radiated beauty and I just seemed to be a mere afterthought, basking in the glow of her spotlight.

I felt the familiar feeling of my heart breaking all over again as I realized I couldn't look at one more picture. My half-numb legs began to move of their own accord as I practically jumped out of the pew I was sitting in and sprinted to the back of the Funeral Home towards the door. All I could see in my mind's eye was a dark wooden box with intricate carvings on it, siting in front of that wretched slideshow. How morbid and cruel was this 'Celebration of Life', forcing those who loved my magnificent mother to gather around in front of her cold, lifeless body and stare at it? Sick.

I found myself walking down the side of a busy road, the black stiletto heels I was wearing digging into the soft grass and making it difficult to move quickly. I paused to pull them off my feet and began walking barefoot, holding the shoes by the straps in my left hand. A black limo pulled onto the side of the highway, just a few yards in front of me, and the driver's side back door opened as James jumped out and approached me warily. I all but collapsed in his arms as he looked into my red, aching eyes with a knowing look. After letting me cry on his expensive black suit for a few minutes, he gently tilted my head upwards by hooking a pudgy finger underneath my chin.

"Would you like me to take you home?" he asked quietly.

All I could do was nod as the tears continued to flow. I was so relieved that he didn't try to make me return to the Funeral, or go to the stupid Burial. I absolutely hated this, and all I wanted to do was have my mother back. But since that was impossible, the next best thing would be to just go home. James wrapped a comforting arm around my right shoulder and guided me towards the limo in front of us. In that moment I felt like he was more of a father to me than Kendrick ever had been.