literature

Everything Will Be Okay

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It was nearly midnight when I heard the knocks on my door. Two raps against the maple wood window. I put down my pen and looked over towards the hallway, where the sounds originated. Who would be out this late? Especially in this empty city. Who would possibly need me at this time? I was nothing important. Not a doctor. Not a dentist. Simply a foolish young writer planning her escape from her isolated home grounds. But the taps become louder. Desperate. Rapid. As if some insane murderer's knife was inches from my knocker's throat. With this thought, I unlocked and pulled open the door.

Two small arms wrapped around my neck, nearly throwing me back. No crazy axe killer. I was slightly disappointed. Just her. Just her. She was sobbing. Sobbing so much harder than she regularly did. So much harder than the other times I have picked her up. I could only hold her and rock. I could not say anything for who knew what could have possibly unsettled her? I could only close my eyes and rub her back. Just the same thing we've done... every time.

I sat her down on the couch and held her hands. "Are you alright?" I whispered. She shook her head. No. Of course not. Stupid question. "He." She began. Her whimpers choking her words. Her hand hiding her tear-carved face. She couldn't speak. She couldn't explain. But I didn't need a reason. "He. He..." I squeezed her fingers and shook my head. "It's okay... You don't need t-" "He left me!" She screamed and her covered face fell onto my lap, flooding my clothes with small salty rivers. I frowned. Poor girl. She had her heart ripped out... Says the one who's never fallen in love.

Funny. Funny. I always thought she was the better one. That's what everyone agreed on. She- Miss Homecoming, Miss Best Smile, Miss Best Personality... Miss Perfect, huh? Who would've thought she'd be the first to cry? Who would've thought anyone would have the heart to leave her? Who would've thought there was someone out there better than her? Prettier? Nicer? Happier? Who would've thought? No one. But that didn't matter quite right now.

"Hey." I lifted her chin. "Don't let this get you down. There's always something out there. Better. All you've got to do is get a flashlight and get enough backbone to walk through the fog." I felt inspiration filling my veins and as my mouth took off, I let a soft smile sneak through. "And sometimes, you end up in a place that you know." She looked at me as if I was crazy. She didn't understand. "There's always something in front of you that you don't see. There's always someone who dreams of you. There's always someone who loves you."

Somewhere in my speech, she had stopped crying. She had noticed the cardboard boxes, and the empty rooms. Started to realize the stuffed away plates and bubble-wrapped lamps. The disconnected bed frames. The absence of dust. The vanishing chairs. Sudden epiphanic thoughts hit her. Thoughts of the most obvious. There is always something in front of you that you don't see.

Now I think I see. I think I see. The quiver of her lip. That pain in her eyes were not just because of him. But also me. Like I could read her mind all of a sudden. What would happen to her after I left? She had been abandoned already. Now could her best friend leave her? Don't leave. She begged. Don't go. You've got to say. But I didn't know what to say. She knew where my heart laid. Not in this barren town, where everyone knew my middle name. Not here were marriages and divorces were printed on the daily paper. Not where people trusted each other enough to leave their doors unlocked.

                                                                               But.

                                                                                          I'd stay for her.

Just a little longer. I'd stay. At most a month. I opened my mouth to tell her, but she was faster. She whispered four words that sent a chill down my spine. "You better be right."

                                            A year later, she was married to the love of her life

                                                     and a month had turned into eighteen.

It was during the baby shower when she came to me. Her arms wrapped around the center of her large autumn colored sundress. She said she needed some fresh air. The party was too wild for her. So we took a walk through the gentle fall wind. Heels against the hot cement. I disapproved. But I guess she needed something for her to feel beautiful about. She came to the cracked bench under the weeping willow. Leaves hanging down from its mossy lengths like water drops on tips of hair strands. The carpet of left over hope. The only place in White Mountain where people did not dare bother you. The Weeping Willow, The Memory Tree. When the branches swept over your head, brushing against your skin, you remember the deepest of things. Nostalgic. Nostalgic hurt. Nostalgic happiness.

Things that should have been long forgotten. Things that only belong in the deep past. Things sucked up in the vacuum of time that only I would try to collect into my little velvet bag. But I think this old bag ripped. I can't let go.

Like the old soundless movie they played. Deep sepia dreams.

"You're right." She said.
"What?"
"There's always something out there better. There's always someone out there who loves you and dreams of you." I nodded as a reply. No. She was wrong. She was too optimistic. I had grown up now. Even if it was only one and a half years. I had lied. The world was different. Not that it had changed, but I had. As if we were given new eyes every birthday. Things that we're not allowed to see until your coming of age. No. This world was much crueler than I have estimated it to be. Harder. Harsher.

"Hey." She caught my attention again. "You've got to stay until the baby comes, alright?"

"Yeah. Sure." That was all she needed to ease her rabid obsession of me. She didn't have to ask anymore. When she found him, she made me promise that I'd stay until she figured out if he was the one or not. When she was sure he was, she made me stay until the wedding, and now until the baby. Of course, I'd stay.

                                                                                     She should know.

It was 2:30
     in the morning of August 12, when I received the phone call, beckoning me to the hospital.


                               Something had gone terribly wrong.

I made it to the front doors of the hospital in record time. Five minutes. I had probably sped dangerously fast over the speed limit, but that didn't matter. I'd gladly take a ticket in exchange for what had happened. I nearly threw myself against the front desk. The lady looked up at me.

"Are you alright?" She stood up, grabbing my arm. I told her I was fine, and squeezed the information out of her. Third floor, Room A35. It was not good. There was a large group in front of her room. Hemorrhage. Heavy blood loss. How could they let it happen? Rage. How could they? Hate. Grief. Like a bolt of realization, it hit me. My legs refused to move. My knees gave in. My head spun. But her husband caught me before I could fall. He looked just as bad. "Is she- is she… going..." I couldn't spit it out. The words burned through my throat.

He shook his head.

I shook mine too.

"Come on. She needs you..." He said. I looked at him. She needs you too. "She's been waiting. She's been holding on for you."

And now. Now was not the best time. But I could only ask why? Why should she be waiting for me? Darling, she had been waiting for him, her whole life. Now, she sat her last minutes holding on for me. She didn't know if he would come. She knew I would. But isn't he what she wanted? Isn't he what she always wished for? He should be inside with her, his arms wrapped around her . Filling her face with kisses, wrapping their hands around their baby. I did not deserve to be in there. I glanced at him, but he only nodded.

"Go on." I saw no regret in his eyes. "This is what she wanted. This will make her happy."

                          He was a good husband.

I pushed open the door softly, and her eyes were staring at me, anticipating. She whispered my name.

"Hey..." I smiled a weak smile as I grabbed a chair next to her.
"Gods..." She looked over. "This sucks, doesn't it?" Was that all she could say?
"Indeed." She flashed me a sarcastic grin. I didn't know what to talk about. What do you say in front of a dying person? What could you possibly do?
"I thought I'd be able to paint her room a light lavender. You know, I always really liked that color. Light lavender with white fringes. Maybe some horse shaped decorations. If she has my genes, she'll probably like horses. He never liked lavender though. But since I'm dying, maybe he'll reconsider." I slapped her hand.
"Shut up." I told her. She only beamed back.
"Hey. You shut up. It's like you told me. Don't let this get you down. There's always something out there better."


                                                                       She quoted me wrong.


"I don't think I have a lot of time left. I feel really... weak." She whispered. I felt my nose clog. I could feel the bottom of my eyes wetting. No. I never cried. I quickly wiped the tears away before she could see them.

"Take care of them, okay? I'll be watching. I'll tell God to get you that car you wanted." I smiled, but then shook my head, to flop my hair over my face.

"But you can't go. You've got to stay."
"I can't."
"You've got to stay to see your little girl grow up with him. You've got to stay to see her first steps. And to listen to her first words. To feel the soft skin against yours. To walk to school the first day. You've got to see her in the talent show. And see her come home with the little drawing of her family. You've got to feel her fingers against her first snow-fall. You've got to see her first A. Stay to see her shoe sizes expand. Stay until she graduates from middle school. Stay to feel the surprise when she comes home with a boy. Sta-"
"I will see everything."
"But."
"Listen. To me. Everything will be. Okay." I grabbed her hand.








                                                      "You better be right."
Everything Will Be Okay
(C) Fallen Lore, 2010


Nostalgic. Nostalgic hurt. Nostalgic happiness.

Things that should have been long forgotten. Things that only belong in the deep past. Things sucked up in the vacuum of time that only I would try to collect into my little velvet bag. But I think this old bag ripped. I can't let go.

Like the old soundless movie they played. Deep sepia dreams.
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Yelnatz's avatar
Insanely Incredible! Some of the best I've ever read recently!!!