Mission Impossible # 3 (Part 2)
I closed my eyes allowing it to creep forward, curious of how it would make me feel…
I closed my eyes allowing it to creep forward, curious of how it would make me feel…
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I was lying on the bed back in the old apartment that I shared with Jade. I was bundled up in layers of
clothing, while Jade angrily kicked the heater. She likewise wore several
layers of clothing, her cheeks and nose pink and her annoyed breath steamed out
into the cold air with a soft growl.
“If you kick it one more time it
might work,” I teased her rolling onto my side to watch her. Her clear blue
eyes met mine, forcing me to smile. She smiled back and kicked it one more time
as a joke making me snicker despite myself. The heater clanked and the metal
facing fell off making a loud crash on the ground. She giggled and hopped into
bed with me, cuddling close to stay warm. The lady below us rapped her broom on
the ceiling to inform us that we were disturbing her.
“Should we give her a real
reason to hit the ceiling?” Jade suggested with a seductive glance, yet her
smirk told me she was merely making a jest.
“Too cold. We’ll freeze
together,” I said rubbing her arms to create warmth, my gloved fingers
beginning to lose their numbness. “Some Christmas we’re having. No tree, no
presents, no heat,” I complained with a sigh.
“What would you want for
Christmas? If you could pick anything in the world, what would it be?” Jade
asked in a whimsical voice, her mind drifting into a make believe world, one
much better than our own. Her eyes peered through the ceiling as if she could
literally see this magical world she was creating.
“I don’t know, maybe a job I
could respect myself doing. To be able to take care of you better. What about
you?” I asked her, trying to see what she could see, but my limited imagination
and morbid grasp on reality prevented me to follow her into her fantasy.
“A thousand moments just like
this one,” She replied with a happy grin towards the ceiling. Good old romantic
girl, able to find good in all that was bad. I closed my eyes, trying to
imagine things that made me happy, to improve my spirits to equal Jade’s.
“You wouldn’t want money, or a
supermodel, or like world peace? Just a thousand freezing, starved Christmases?”
I tempted her innocent mind away from all her noble notions.
“Maybe world peace,” she
answered looking at me slyly from the corner of her eyes. And I had believed
she was going to make a joke about a male supermodel. She was so sweet and
caring I felt guilty for not being the same.
“I don’t deserve you,” I said
quietly and with meaning, cuddling closer for warmth.
“You never will,” She said
touching my chin. I searched her mysterious eyes for meaning, but was unable to
tell if she was joking or if she meant it. She always had that stoic,
penetrating stare that made you believe she was always serious. Jade giggled
and kissed me allowing me to see she was attempting a joke, not an insult.
“You don’t want anything? You’re
happy living like this?” I asked her in a serious tone, wanting her to dispel
my worst fears.
She responded with a bite of the
lip and a bobbing of her head in confirmation before adding, “I don’t need
money. I’m not with you for that. I’m not even trying to get you to reconcile
with your parents. I don’t want their filthy money. And I don’t want yours
either.” At that moment she reminded me of a stubborn little girl, innocent,
wholesome, adorable and would always have to have her own way.
“Good, cause I don’t have any,”
I said petting her blond streaks.
“That’s the way I like it. You
don’t have to worry about money. I’m a big girl Peyton. I can take care of
myself.” She buried her head into my neck and I held her close. She smelt of
peaches, baby powder, and stale cigarettes…
The phone rang bringing me back to
reality from my past reveries. I didn’t want to answer it, or open my eyes, but
I had to. I needed to leave these images to the past, just as Tony had advised
me. I grabbed it up answering it with a tired voice. It was Tony. I was late.
I got ready slowly trying to forget
about the ghostly visage of Jade. I was successful in putting her from my mind,
but a feeling of melancholy spread over me, engulfing me like a festering
disease. Whenever I felt this way, I would read my favorite book, the depressing
nature of it somehow uplifted me, but I hadn’t brought it with me on this trip.
I read it first in high school and I was unable to remember the title or its
contents, until Jade, who was an avid reader told me what it was, but the
ending had stuck in my mind for years before I bought and reread it. A powerful
man in Africa was ill, delirious and dying and his last words were, “The
horror! The horror!” and I can’t recall what the teacher told us it meant. To
me, however, the horror changed to something different on every reading, my book
creased at the page where I first knew he would die, reading and rereading as
if it would be different every time.
What did “the horror” mean to me
the last reading? It meant the horror of the monotony of life and the never
changing atmosphere of the nine-to-five job. The horror of every day being the
same and not having someone to share it with. The horror of living with
mistakes and the inability to take them back, change them or fix what had been
broken. My horrors of living, breathing, without the guile to end it myself.
These were my horrors; my heart was the darkness, the evils of the world turned
inward on myself. What purpose in life did I have?
I was a void, a space, just a blob
of matter taking up room in the world. Accidents happen, people die every day,
ones with loving families, children, not loners like me. I was spared, a third
of my life had gone by and I had nothing to show for it. I wondered from time
to time if anyone would notice if I died, constantly thinking about the old man
who lived in my former apartment building that had died of a heart attack and
wasn’t found for six weeks. Not a single soul checked on him or worried about
him until the strange smell emanated from his apartment. The smell of his
festering body kept the place from being rented for six months, the neighbors
moved as if death were contagious.
Would this be me when I’m old?
Would they find me after two lapsed mortgage payments, bald and pot-bellied,
lying lifeless on a vast collection of baseball cards? I hate baseball. Before
my death would I hobble around on a cane and grumpily curse at everyone younger
than me about things being different when I was their age, while collecting
spoons from vacations taken alone? Would I die knowing I let the one woman I
ever loved get away, my regret my only companion and loneliness my only lover?
I tried to shake these morbid
feelings away, to clear my mind from the grim thoughts that plagued me. It was
hard for me to see the positive aspects of my life. I didn’t doubt they were
there; everyone had something to look forward to. I just didn’t have the gift
to see them, to count my blessings.
With a sigh I stood up and grabbed
my jacket shaking my shoulders as if the thoughts would fly from them too. It
was Tony’s night, not mine, so I had to go and pretend this melancholy feeling
didn’t exist. I began to walk the ten blocks to the strip-club as opposed to
taking the cab, loving the crisp air of the cool night. I wasn’t sure if it was
cold outside or if I just felt that way on the inside. Every step I took, I
felt more of a chill spread over my body. A chill, which I was sure no matter
how much whiskey I drank could quench.
On arriving to the strip club the
guys were already drunk and I realized how late I was. I put on my happy
masquerade and made sure my best friend had the night of his life. I swore my
mood would not improve but somewhere between the first club and the last bar I
let go of time, of worries, and realized I was having fun. The night seemed to
shoot by so fast, just a montage of strippers, shots, and loud music. I found
myself drunk, on the curb supporting Tony, who couldn’t hold himself up.
With great effort and patience on
my end, I managed to get Tony back to my hotel room where he passed out on top
of the bed across the room snoring loudly. As I lay down on the stiff bed, my
head began to whirl in circles as if I were riding a roller coaster. My eyes
snapped opened, focused on the ceiling and the spinning stopped. I stared at
the pebble-like ceiling until my eyes drooped shut and the whirling
recommenced, turning my stomach sour. I kept my eyes open, listening to the
bustle of the streets outside in the city that truly never slept. The subway
always rumbled underneath, sirens could be heard, as well as prostitutes and
bums calling out to people walking by.
My exhausted eyes began to droop
bringing back the drunken swirls and a new wave of intense nausea. I jumped out
of bed and raced into the bathroom to get sick barely making it to the toilet.
Only then did my head return to normal and the effects of the alcohol began to
subside. After I plopped into bed the second time, I fell into a drunken,
fitful sleep where I was haunted by a dream that was so vivid I thought it was
really happening at first. It was more like a memory that crept into my
consciousness. A memory I long ago suppressed…
Jade,
beautiful as ever, although clad in a gray waitress uniform two sizes too big
for her, set the table for dinner. I looked to the microwave to see a casserole
dish spinning around and knew its contents from the polluting smell of
tuna. Jade had her honey blond hair
pulled back in a low ponytail and bent over the table, her short skirt showing
off her fabulous legs. I wanted to wrap my arms around her and kiss her neck,
keep her safe from the world’s harm, my harm. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t
touch her at all or my willpower would vanish. She gently laid two paper towels
on the little round table to serve as napkins and turned looking at me oddly.
Her eyes danced across my face searching for the answers to the questions she
was afraid to ask.
I felt
trapped in the hot little room, like the walls were slowly closing in on me and
needed to go outside for fresh air. My life felt oppressing like a horrid
pattern, constantly repeating itself every day. The uphill battle I faced,
making money, paying bills, and doing it all over again the next day. Always
struggling to stay even, never ahead of what life had to dish out. I wanted to leave,
just opt out of the stuffy little apartment, opt out of this life. But how
could I leave her?
Before
she had a chance to speak, I walked towards the bedroom muttering something
about changing my clothes. I was going to slip out the fire escape for a smoke,
which I hoped would calm me down into rational thoughts. After Jade quit smoking, she wouldn’t allow me to do it in the house. I had told her I quit too, which
wasn’t a complete lie; I had cut back. I always thought about lighting up to
provoke her, but I enjoyed the escape outside, the moment I smoked I could
pretend I was somewhere else. I was high up and free with the vast sky above
me, the ground a few floors down, in complete openness.
“I know what you’re
going to do,” Jade’s shaky voice stopped me in my tracks. I composed my face
before turning around. What was she talking about? She surely couldn’t tell I
was contemplating leaving her. That was impossible. She must be confronting me
about my smoking. I turned to see a cockroach scurry under the stove and
cringed thinking of baked bugs. She wasn’t facing me, but laying plates down on
the table, her back stiff, shoulders tight, telling me something was wrong.
“What are you talking about?” I
asked her emphasizing my confusion.
“Peyton, I’m not stupid. I do
have a brain.” She dropped the rest of the plates onto the flimsy table with an
angry bang. All I could think of was how the room stunk of warm dead fish as
Jade spun around her cheeks red with emotion. She looked ravishing, flared up,
rosy, and excited. I had to put those thoughts from my head, distance myself
from feeling anything or I wouldn’t be able to leave. I had to be strong.
“I know you’re going to leave
me,” she said quietly her voice going thin although she struggled to keep it
strong. Tears welled up in her eyes despite her strong nature. It wasn’t like
her to get emotional over anything, even the thought of me leaving her. But
here she was emotion itself, raw and blistering under the strain.
“What are you talking about?” I
said with surprise. I didn’t have to feign the feeling, for I was extremely
surprised that after only two years she could read every thought on my mind and
I hardly knew her.
“Don’t bother pretending you
have no clue what I’m talking about,” she said boldly finding her strength at
last, crossing her arms in anger and glaring at me.
“Jade, why would you think
something like that?” I asked attempting to mask any emotion from coming
through. My voice came across more harsh and unfeeling than I had hoped for.
This wasn’t at all like I planned: she wasn’t supposed to know. I was just
going to slip easily from her life and never return.
“You self centered son of a…”
She stopped herself. Just like Jade to not utter a curse word in her highest
fit of anger. She’d steal before she could curse; she used to tell me it was
vulgar and unlady-like. “When were you going to leave, next week? Tomorrow?”
She continued spitefully as every sentence overpowered me. I was the man here
and I was the one who should be in control, only I was frozen, transfixed,
distancing myself away from feeling anything that might stop my decision. I was
merely thinking about abandoning her and the city, but she helped push me over
the edge, as always, and made the decision final.
“Tonight, maybe,” I said, knowing
well how much it would hurt her to hear the words. I didn’t care how
much I hurt her at that moment; I wouldn’t have to face her ever again. I
wanted to go now and not face any outburst from her but my legs were not in my
power to command.
My comment had much effect on
her. She gasped in surprise and sank into the chair, going pale. As I forced my
feet to move toward the bedroom, she stopped me by sarcastically commenting,
“Before or after dinner?”
I lost it then, letting out the
anger I was desperately attempting to mask as indifference, “Damn it Jade! Why
do you have to bring things up? Why do you have to pry? I was thinking about
leaving and you press me and squeeze me and force me to act on it. It was a
thought and now you have yourself to thank now that the ball is rolling. It’s
no longer a choice now.” I spat out stabbing her like a thousand knives, her
cringing at every moment. Seeing I had the upper hand, I continued: “You always
want me to be honest. Brutal honesty is what you asked for isn’t it? Here it is
honey! I don’t love you anymore. I can’t stand this hellhole we live in. I hate
every single thing about my life, so I’m leaving! Is that honest enough
for you?” I demanded towering over her all my anger boiling over.
She trembled, crying at my brutality,
but stood up with solid stoicism and stared into my eyes, her strength not fully
abandoning her. “What are you going to do? Go beg your mommy and daddy for your
fortune back?” she challenged attempting to get me to explode. But I wouldn’t
let her win. I held my anger back, grinding my teeth to do so, and simply
walked away from her into the bedroom.
“If it makes you feel better you can tell
yourself that, but you know I won’t,” I muttered loud enough for her to hear me
answer her challenge.
What do you pack in a
time like this? I didn’t know, but I grabbed down my grubby brown suitcase,
emptied my only dresser drawer into it, threw in my shoes and zipped it up, not
taking time to fold anything, leaving behind toiletries, CD’s and a few
personal items. I had no idea where I was going or what I was doing, but I knew
I would never return to New York or home to Boston.
Unwillingly, I forced
myself into the kitchen towards the front door. I tried not to look at her as
she violently sobbed, her head resting on the table. Her fingers dug into and
crumbled the paper towels. The tuna spun in the microwave, stinking up the
room.
“Peyton,” she cried, the
weakness in her voice made me look at her with pity. “Do you even care about
what will happen to me?” She was so pitiful I almost put my bag down. My mind
whirled thinking of postponing my leaving, or attempting to take her with me.
But she knew I’d leave; the moment she brought it up she knew she had set it in
stone. How could I back down now? I was only a step away from the freedom I was
longing for.
“You’re a big girl Jade. You
don’t need my money,” I said with conviction to show her I wouldn’t change my
mind, while reiterating our last Christmas conversation. Over six months ago I
had been happy and now my life was completely the opposite. She silently stared
at the ground, so I went for the door…
I shot awake in bed
sweaty and in a tangle of sheets, unaware of where I was. Then I lay back down
sighing, remembering I was in the hotel, in Manhattan and relaxed. Tony still
snored in the bed across the room. I got up and washed my face looking at
myself in the mirror. Would this terrible feeling of guilt ever leave me? Would
I continuously think of her and dream of her every time I thought of New York?
When I had left, I forced myself to dispel her image and refused to let myself
ever think or wonder about her. But, now, here, I was exploding with all the
feelings I should have experienced then if I had let myself. Why did I come
here? I had to do something about it. I had to end these suffering feelings,
and I knew that meant I’d have to do what I dreaded most: confront Jade. Rena surely knew where she was. No matter how hard it would be I’d convince Rena to
tell me. Five years after I left Jade, I still needed some form of closure. I
couldn’t go on much more without knowing she was all right, that I didn’t ruin
her life from leaving it. I walked back into the room and climbed into bed. It
was still dark, but I felt sober so I must have had a few hours sleep, which
was good considering I would not catch a wink the rest of the night. The image
of my pale, chubby, bald, lifeless body on the sofa rotting and stinking up the
room kept flittering into my mind all morning. I wasn’t even balding yet.
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“You alright bud?” I asked him,
putting my hand on his shoulder to stop him.
“Am I doing the right thing?” He
asked me with the earnestness and innocence of a child afraid of disappointing
me. His eyes pleaded me for advice and reassurance, needing help to make the
decision that would affect the rest of his life.
“What do you mean? Of course you
are. You and Rena have been together for ages now. It’s logical. Nothing
has to change really. It's just a piece of paper, you know?” I urged him. “Funny coming from me being that she and I have
never gotten along, but if I had something like you two have I would hang onto
it forever. I know I haven’t been a great person or a friend to you at times,
but trust me from someone who knows: don’t walk away. You’ll never forgive
yourself. The regret will never leave you. ” I turned from him so he couldn’t
see the dampness of my eyes. My own speech had gotten the better of me, and I
fought that damn chicken bone in my throat that was attempting to make me lose
it. I withheld my emotions and turned to him realizing my speech had served its
purpose and Tony had lost his cold feet. His eyes were damp and he grabbed me
and hugged me tightly, then let go, looking at me earnestly as if he had to
tell me something important.
He looked at me with pain, sat down
and said, “Peyton, before we go in there, there’s something I need to say…”
The doors flung open and Rena’s
panic stricken sister came out interrupting, “Is everything alright? You were
supposed to be in there already.”
“It’s my fault. I didn’t realize
the time,” I blurted out to take the blame. She looked at me with disapproval;
eyes that matched her sister’s and I knew Rena had already poisoned her mind
against me. Rena’s sister didn’t leave until she saw we were on our way and the
subject between Tony and I was dropped.
I ushered him in to where his bride
was anxiously standing, and when they saw one another both of their anxiety
slipped away, and smiled at greeting one another. Their deep affection was
apparent, so lovestruck and nervous. I couldn’t imagine myself marrying or
ever feeling as these two did about each other. I had become too emotionally
devoid to all stimuli that love was most likely improbable for me.
The ceremony was short and to the
point without any religious garble and I was relieved. Every moment in that
room was suffocating. There was so much love between Tony and Rena that it
almost hurt to see their happiness when I had none. But I was the maker of my
own grief and I couldn’t blame anyone but myself for my lot in life. Jealousy,
regret, and guilt filled up my empty heart and I drowned the feelings with as
many drinks as I could at the reception held in their bar.
After the
party was in full swing, I made the decision, with my drunken confidence, to
confront Rena about Jade. The guilt of leaving her was haunting me and I didn’t
think it would ever go away until I saw she was doing well. Many hopes filled
me up, not that I thought of trying to get her back. She was sure to have moved
on and if not what reason could I give her to ever trust me again? With my
inhibitions gone, my mind dabbled in all sorts of possibilities. So many happy
thoughts filled my head that I knew I had to see her, and Rena was the only link.
“Rena, I
need to know where Jade is,” I said bluntly. She was beyond drunk and I was
sure she would be of no help, but she managed to answer me. She turned with
astonishment and looked at me oddly through bugged-out eyes. My question
shocked her so greatly that I thought for a moment she’d faint.
“What?” She
looked at me if I was stupid but then her face sunk and she grabbed a napkin.
“Here’s the address,” she said quietly handing it to me. She didn’t mention why
Jade hadn’t appeared today, but I didn’t ask. Knowing Rena, and her judgmental
temperament, I’m sure the two had a fall out.
Rena looked
at me gravely making me wonder why she was behaving so strange. Instead of
asking, or waiting for one of her lectures, I walked away sure she was looking
at me with disgust. I knew she would not want me to disturb Jade after jilting
her at a time she needed me the most. I didn’t want to be scolded and told I
was a dick for what I had done. I already knew I was, but there might be time for
redemption.
I slipped out without saying
goodbye to Tony and walked out the sunlight, my eyes needing a moment to
adjust. I walked around aimlessly, debating whether I should go see Jade or
abandon the quest and just hop on the train to Boston and forget her and the
city forever. It had felt like a homecoming until I found out Jade wasn’t
coming. Manhattan, my mother, had left me, changed forever in my eyes to a
place of deep regret, festering guilt, and horrific memories. I shouldn’t have
come back at all. New York had been a place for the past and I should have left
it that way.
I loosened my tie and took a deep
breath in to calm myself down, my heart beating fast with expectations. The sun
began to set behind the skyscrapers, and I realized I had enough time to see her
and still make the last train to Boston. I pulled the napkin out and peered
down at it, a new nervousness spreading over me. The address was just outside
the city; I could reach it in just over a half hour. I hailed a cab and climbed
in handing the cabbie the napkin.
As I watched the city go by my
tired body slumped into the seat, and despite my best efforts to stay awake I
began to nod off. My alcohol buzz was long gone and I felt more exhausted than
ever before…
“You’re a big girl Jade. You
don’t need my money,” I said with conviction to show her I wouldn’t change my
mind, while reiterating our last Christmas conversation. She silently stared at
the ground, so I went for the door.
“You’d leave even if I
was carrying your baby wouldn’t you?” She asked sadly. I stopped, letting go of
the rusted handle.
“What are you talking about?
You’re making things up to get me to stay,” I said making my voice seem much
stronger than I felt. I was stunned; my heart skipped a beat, anticipating the
worst thing possible. If she was… I couldn't bear to bring a baby into this
life. I would rather die than to see it
happen. My child in this world, this city, this life I so desperately hated, it
seemed a brutal cruelty I wouldn’t wish on anyone.
“It’s the last bit of
truth I have to get you to stay,” She said with numbed grief. She was speaking
almost inaudibly, her eyes downcast, staring at a cockroach scurrying across
the floor.
I stood unable to say a word
with that damn chicken bone clogging up my throat, not letting me speak. I
couldn’t breath and my hands shook violently from my nerves, as I grasped the
cold brass doorknob. Finally, after a full minute’s silence I dared to look
back over my shoulder and match my gaze with hers. Instantly, her eyes betrayed
the truth: she was pregnant. With a simple wounded puppy dog look she begged me
to stay. I sighed with exasperation and stared at the rusty old doorknob, now
the symbol to my freedom. The four locks on the door reminded me how bad of a
place this shit hole would be to raise a kid. It was the prison from which I
was trying to escape. The financial difficulties, the fact the child would be
unwanted and unloved by me…. I squashed the roach under my foot, and the sudden action made Jade flinch.
I found my hand had turned the
knob already before my mind made the decision to do so. It was so hot in the
stuffy room and it stunk like fish, as the walls began to tighten around me. I
couldn’t handle feeling like a trapped animal and I had to get out or I’d pass
out. The chicken bone grew bigger, blocking my voice, blocking my ability to
breath, and I thought I might faint. I needed fresh air.
I opened the door wide, slipped
out being sure not to look back and closed it behind me. Jade wailed in agony
inside, making me flinch as she had only a moment ago for the innocent roach. I
stopped for one moment, my eyes tearing up, blinding me, contemplating if I
should keep going or turn back. But I had gone this far and the hardest part
was over. I moved one foot in front of the other and then I raced down the
steps two at a time and busted out the main door and ran another block out of
sight. I fell to my knees on the hard pavement, not caring about the pain, as I
gasped for air. After finding my breath and wiping the tears away I stood up
and continued walking. I had no idea where I was going to go, but I knew that
it wasn’t where I just came from…
I awoke in the cab as it wound
around the streets, making a good pace, which told me we were out of the city.
I tried to diminish the horrible memories from my head by filling my thoughts
with hopes and aspirations for the future. I wondered again how Jade was doing,
well it seemed to afford life in the suburbs. My mind whirled about the future,
not that I believed Jade and I would ever be together again. I was sure she was
probably married or almost there, but I wondered about my child. I wondered if
it was a boy or girl and if he or she looked at all like me. The child would be
about four years old now. Would I have any rights to see it? The cab drove by
an attorney’s office and I wondered if I should tell the cabbie to stop and
find out. No, I needed to take things slower, one step at a time. I was getting
way too ahead of myself. I took a deep breath and exhaled. However, it did not
calm down my anxious heart.
The cab slowed to a stop and I paid him for
the long journey and groggily climbed out of the car. I was hoping I’d make it
back for the last train to Boston, but if not it didn’t matter. Seeing only a
long expanse of woods in front of me I turned around to see a large wrought
iron gate connected to a stone wall, with the words “Neville Park Cemetery” above
it.
“This is a graveyard,” I exclaimed
to the driver in confusion. He must have stopped at the wrong place, unless
Rena’s memory failed her and she wrote down the wrong house number.
“That’s the address you gave me.
You wanna go somewhere else buddy?” He asked me. I looked at the napkin with
Jade’s address on it, marked with Rena’s own handwriting. The plaque on the
wall matched the exact address given. Was this some kind of joke? Why would
Rena give me this address, unless… no they’d tell me if… I didn’t want to think
that. This was a mistake of some sort, and as I looked up and down the street
and saw no residential dwellings, I realized it was not a mistake.
“Hey buddy, you want me to take you
back?” The cab driver pressed me for an answer his voice annoyed at my
indecisiveness. My mind swirled trying to find excuses to make this all wrong;
I needed it to be a mistake. I scanned the road again, desperate to find a
house or an apartment building, but all that met my eyes was woods and a long
expanse of wrought iron fencing and stone.
“No, thank you,” I managed to say,
as the truth was falling on my shoulders like a ton of bricks. The cab drove
off leaving me in a cloud of gravel dust. As the dust cleared, my mind was far
from clear. I walked numbly through the gate staring at the address willing it
to change. I looked up to see a large stretch of tombstones that lined the hills
that stretched before me. The place was desolate, but beautiful with blooming
trees, fountains and carved marble crypts. It was as if they tried to
compensate, making the place so beautiful when the most depressing moments of
one’s life must take place here.
Unsure of where to go next, I
flipped over the little paper several times till I noticed a little scribble on
the bottom of it that read “106 C,” which I had previously dismissed as an
apartment number. 106 C? I looked at the tombstones to my left and right and
realized there were signs of labeled sections to guide you, 106 must be the
plot number in sector C.
With nervousness crawling over my
skin, I took a stroll through the winding path, over a hill and through some
trees approaching the section of graves I was in search of. The chance of it
all being a horrible mistake still gave me a shred of hope, clashing violently
with my anxious uneasiness. I was terrified, unable to think about what I might
find, but drawn to know the truth to why Rena sent me here. How did Jade die
and was it before of after the baby? Why hadn’t I asked Rena about the baby?
Why hadn’t I asked Tony? He would have told me the truth instead of playing a
wicked trick like his wife had played on me. Then I remembered before his wedding
he was trying to tell me something serious. He was trying to tell me and like a
fool I asked his cold wife instead.
I cursed myself for being so
foolish as I entered sector C and took the winding path down the hill glancing
at the iron poles that held the signs telling you what span of plots were in
each row. It hit me hard that I was nearly there. A wave of anxiety rippled
through my body, my heart beat fast in dreadful anticipation.
The blood drained from my face
making me feel dizzy, when I realized I was staring at the sign was for plots
marked 100-135, the grave only a few steps down the row. Time seemed to slow
down to almost a stop as I forced my feet to walk down the isle of tombstones,
being careful not to step over where I thought the bodies were laying below.
All I could hear was my own heart pounding, my breath coming quick. I felt
everything closing in on me despite being out in the open. The tombstones and
the trees where reaching in to grab me, pressing closer to me. Frozen in
horror, I stood most likely now right in front of the grave I was seeking. All
I had to do was look down, but a sudden anxiety overwhelmed me making me
immobile.
Chills went up and down my spine
and my stomach flopped as if the ground dropped out from under me. I was unable
to look down at the tombstones in front of me, too close to finding out my
worst fears. I paused believing I was actually going to be sick, as the bile
boiled up into my chest making me dry heave. I gasped for air leaning on a
tombstone for support as my knees shook, clanking together. I couldn’t control
my own body’s ramblings. I could hardly breath, the infamous chicken bone
stretching in my throat. I looked down realizing I was standing over someone’s
grave, six feet over some rotting corpse. I took a step back almost losing my
balance as my vision blurred. I rubbed my eyes and looked at the tombstone,
which read “Jade Marie Howard and child.” The girl and baby I jilted, that
lived only in my hopeful imagination, lay six feet beneath me.
The dreams I had earlier today
vanished into nothingness. I felt my gorge spasm and the world began to spin
into dizziness before I could see the date she died. I couldn’t focus my eyes
on anything. I knew the horror of it all still had to sink in, a new horror worse
than any I ever imagined before. My knees could no longer hold and I felt my
body sink towards the ground. Then, before I knew it was happening, the world
faded to black. As I slipped away into the obsidian darkness I knew when I woke up
nothing would ever be the same.
