8
604 Words
One day,
Our hearts melted,
But God only gave me,
That one day,
So cry.
~~
I do not lose myself inside the old memories. Or pretend I can hear Lilly's music. The dust has left this house, lemons and lavender replace the must. I know I will always hurt inside but I remember them. I can not forget. I will always remember. I have not been fixed fully,
But I will be.
"Tell me." Rev asks softly next to me. His chest is bare and I remember the memories that his body holds, "About them." I do not think I can for a moment but the words come with a surprising ease,
"Mum was the gardener, dad painted skies and Willow could make music just by walking." I smile. I tell him the rest because I know it is what he is wondering. The words are raw and new. It is a pain to mouth them from my lips, "They died, beside the sea. We were sat in the car eating chips when a lorry came. It was huge. The lady behind the wheel was drunk and she tore into us. Crashed into us and then our car flipped over, crushed in between the floor and metal. One second they were there and then they were gone."
"I'm sorry Willow." Rev holds my hand tightly in his and we sit like that until I feel like I can move again.
I know I'm not the same girl who was in that car.
I am new and different and sometimes I'll be a mess.
But I will live.
~~~
It happens like this. The rain is gushing down against the window pane and races down the glass in the kitchen. My eyes are blinking out into the gardens, looking at the last yellow rose petal. There is only one left and it flutters in the wind. The yellow is like a star in gloomy morning light. I watch as the gails scream at the rose, desperate to pull it from the stem, it can not hold on anymore. The petal lets go of her flower and so gently she falls down, disappearing into the grass.
The smash of a cup lifts my head back to Rev. He is shaking. His hands gripping to the surface of the kitchen counter, knuckles white, face sweaty and pale. He looks at me with those eyes,
"What's wrong?" I ask but he can not answer before his body slides to black marble floor. His limbs thrashing in all directions. I do not freeze as I often do. I am slamming back my chair, and grabbing the phone. My fingers hitting 999 before I can even remember pressing them,
"Ambulance please." My voice cracks on the words before I fall to the floor and watch him dance in his own world.
~~~
So I return. To the world of a hospital where I know someone else who sleeps in these rooms. But I can not think of them, even though I want to.
I can't.
Instead I think only of Rev and only of what has happened. The smell of a hospital is something you can not forget. A recycled perfumed air that stinks with chemicals and sickness. The faces of grim understanding or sorrow that walk past me.
I long to sink into memories again but I am focused for him. I sit on the plastic chair upright, my hands gently placed on my laps.
I wait.
And I do not have to wait long before I can leave this place.
I do not feel.
Numb.
Numb.
Numb.
- Writer
