Ecstasy

He stood alone behind the countless pews of the cathedral. By then, he had learned to stop crying, yet his eyes were still bloodshot.

Outside, grey clouds covered the afternoon sky as droplets fell from them. The hazy glow from the colored windows reflected on the faces of the marble statues standing by the walls. The damp air created a thin film upon their cheeks. They seemed to be mourning with the rest of the people seated near the altar.

He had been silent since he stepped inside, face down, his right hand clenching his left. As he watched the beads of water falling from his hair to his shoes. The rain got heavier and the scent of wet grass came to his senses. Images of that night took form before his eyes.

It was raining that night, and he remembered his confusion as he saw medical personnel rush around her house. He struggled to get inside, but policemen and their yellow tapes didnt allow him to. He remembered how he screamed at them telling them that he knew who lived there, that he had been with that family all his life. Tears filled his eyes as two officers dragged him back to the street. There, at the corner of his eye, he saw a stretcher. With all his might, he pushed the two away and rushed to it. He remembered how the medic pulled the white sheet off, slowly exposing the face of his best friend. He turned away with disgust and an array of shapeless emotions. He couldnt quite remember the next scenes, but he remembered when her parents approached him amidst the sea of bystanders, reporters, policemen, and medics.

They were crying as they led him to their dead daughter’s stretcher.

Standing infront of her, he felt nothing. He felt hollow as he looked at her face. Her hair flowed down from the edges of the stretcher, swaying with the breeze. Her eyes were closed and the blinking red lights cast the shadows of her lashes on her pale cheeks. From the edge of her eye, he saw a trace of tears that lead to the coagulated blood from her wound. He remembered her lips and how they formed a smile. She was, to him, still beautiful.

The image faded, he finally raised his head as the people started to move out of the church with her coffin leading them. As the people passed him, a friend of hers emerged from the crowd and handed him a letter.

He followed the people soon after. The cathedral was left lifeless, and among its rows of pews was a crumpled piece of paper.

“By you get to read this, I am no longer with you. I want to apologize for the nights when I called you up with my melodramatic thoughts. I also want you to know that when you read this, please don’t shed a tear for me. I did this because I wanted to. I always wished for someone who would treasure me. If I’m lucky, I’ll be flying with him in the sea of dreams. Take care always. Sept. 16, 2006”

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~ by saikow on May 8, 2007.

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