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He knelt by her grave. His sweet, beautiful, innocent love, killed by her own thoughts that raged in her head, until she jumped. The funeral was tough, the lid of her coffin was open so he and her relatives could see her perfect face one last time. At first he didn’t want to look, he refused to even go inside the church, for to do so would be to admit that she had left him forever, but then his feet dragged him inside, no conscious thought running through his head, until he reached the coffin. He stood over her, sorrow in his light grey eyes. She wasn’t as you’d expect someone to look after a fatal jump, she was as perfect as she was in life, she was just sleeping…
That was two hours ago, the burial had taken place and everyone else was at the pub, drinking away their sorrows. He ran his hand over the white marble statue that marked where she slept, the inscription on the base the last words she ever said to anyone, her last words to him “We will meet again someday soon.” He vigorously brushed a tear out of the corner of his eye, standing up slowly, looking the statue in its blank, vacant eyes… a crude interpretation of her, her beauty couldn’t be captured in stone. He kissed the statues forehead, placing the flowers in its outstretched arms, and slowly walked out of the graveyard over to the now empty house they had bought before she jumped.
He lay in bed that night, not being able to sleep, tossing and turning, listening to the sirens in the streets below. His friends had asked him if he wanted to come out tonight, meet new women, but she was the only one for him, and she was gone. He was tired, he longed to surrender to sleep, but when he closed his eyes, he saw her, when he turned to the now empty side of the bed, he could feel her, and when all was silent, he could hear her. All he wanted was for her to be in his arms, one of those special moments which seemed to take forever yet not long enough at the same time. He breathed in deeply, his thoughts racing and screaming in his head, her face flashing before his eyes every time he blinked, and then he saw it, the first apparition…
She was beautiful, more beautiful than she had ever been in life, her skin glowing slightly, her brown waves of loose hair glossy, and her eyes, oh her eyes! They were beautiful and wide and shining, as if lit from within. She was wearing the white dress she’d been buried in, it clinging to her perfect figure and the skirt ruffling as if there was a slight breeze. He slowly climbed out of bed, longing to pull her into his arms, to whisper secrets to her once more, but as he went to wrap his arms around her, she faded, slipping through his arms. She was gone, once more stolen from his love. He lay down on the bed once more, drying his eyes and eventually slipping into his subconscious.
He woke up before daylight had broken, before the earliest bird had begun to sing. He rubbed his tired eyes, recalling last night to every last detail, and something more… when he had gone over to her, and looked into her eyes, there was something there, a sort of pleading. He knew he should accept that she was gone, but he couldn’t. As soon as the suns rays shone through the window, lighting up the airy room, he ran into the bathroom, pulling on his top. Anyone who knew him could have sensed the desperation in this man, those who didn’t could sense his longing. He heard his alarm go off. 7AM. He could go now. Grabbing his coat he rushed out, unlocking the door and driving to the cemetery… it was too much for him to stand walking.
When he pulled open the rusting iron gates, he glanced around, seeing various mourners kneeling by graves, one girl opposite his loves grave. He ran over with such urgency one would think he was late for an appointment, trampling over the mounds of earth so that some people shook their heads in disgust. But he didn’t care for their accusing glances, nor their hushed mutters. He bent down next to the statue, carefully tracing the inscription with his finger, closing his eyes and smelling the sweet smell of lilies and another familiar scent, a soft, faint powdery smell that he recognised so well…
He slowly opened his eyes, willing the smell not to fade, and there he saw her again, standing in front of the girl, though the girl said nothing. Slowly she walked over to him, through the girl and over to him, smiling softly. He looked between the statue and her, one thing the statue had managed to capture perfectly was her smile, such a smile that made him want to kiss her, he leant forward, attempting to kiss her lips, but she was just air, an image. But she was there for everyone to see! Slowly he walked up to the girl, grabbing her arm violently, pointing towards the image of his love, who was currently standing in front of the statue. He roughly turned the girls head in desperation. “Do you see her, that girl there in the white dress?” His voice was gruff and slurred, easy to mistake him as a drunk.
“Let go of me!” She looked in between her and the statue, seeing no girl “No, there is no-one there! Let me go please…” She pulled free of his grasp and ran away, out of the wrought iron gates. The others in the cemetery looked at him, expressions of disgust and hatred etched into their faces. He turned away from them, looking where she was standing… but she’d disappeared once more, her powdery smell still hung in the air, for only him to smell.
He didn’t know what to do with himself, pacing up and down in the room where they had spent so many hours together, either curled up on the sofa or entertaining guests. His heart beating in rhythm with his heavy steps. Then he heard something, a something as soft as a whisper of wind, as musical as a thousand highly tuned instruments, with a playful edge to it. It was her voice. The words were unintelligible at first, a soft murmuring, a shy whispering. But then something changed, the words became clearer and louder, a distinct rhythm to them, punctuated by his heartbeat. The whispering twisting into speech, the speech turning into a deafening roar with that same, achingly familiar hint of playfulness. “Jump… jump… jump” He covered his ears shouting incoherently, trying to drown out the voice he still longed to hear. “Jump…jump…JUMP!” The last word came out as a scream, urging him with the same pleading he saw in her eyes. The voice stopped, his shouting still echoing down the street. Silence filled the room, a suffocating silence that make you want to scream and foam and rave. In the silence was so similar to that of that night, and her last words flooded back to him; “We will meet again someday soon.” These words had no meaning to him when she said them, he just assumed it was a poetic way of saying “See you later” But now her intent was obvious… these days of grief were his last, always meant to be. He stood up, abandoning his chair and walked out onto the balcony, looking down on the street below.
He saw her, perching on the rooftop opposite, smiling slightly, her last words coming out tunefully “We will meet again someday soon” Her voice was as sweet and melodic as it was in life. Her voice, unheard to anyone but him. Her voice inside his head. He fell off the balcony, landing in a crumpled heap below, following in her wake.
- by The Carmine Rose |
- Fiction
- | Submitted on 04/06/2009 |
- Skip
- Title: In Her Wake
- Artist: The Carmine Rose
- Description: A story I wrote for English, describing a mans descent into insanity at the death of his beloved.
- Date: 04/06/2009
- Tags: wake death insanity despair
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Comments (1 Comments)
- Smashing Heartbeats - 04/12/2009
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Your english and description is great!
Love the emotions and all that is put into it.
Comment and rate me?http://www.gaiaonline.com/arena/writing/fiction/vote/?entry_id=101271537#title - Report As Spam