~10 Years Ago~
The hallway was filled with the chatter and laughter of the other students as they leaned against their lockers, socializing with their friends in the brief break between classes. It was all part of the daily routine, even though he never took part in any of it. He was quiet, a loner, and a geek. He was the guy that took photographs for the yearbook, and most people didn’t even know that: most didn’t even know his name. Most days he could pretend it didn’t bother him.
He pulled down on the lock just as a heavy weight pushed against his back, slamming him into the cool metal of the lockers. Then the weight was gone, and echoing laughter rang in his ears. He tried to keep the embarrassment from showing as he pulled his locker open, trying to act as if nothing had happened at all – it wasn’t as if whoever had knocked into him was going to apologize.
The math textbook and notebook went easily into his locker as soon as it was open. There was no overflowing of papers like in a lot of the other lockers. Everything was neat and tidy and perfect – making him need to spend less time at his locker. Less time in the hallway. His chemistry books came out just as easily as the math ones had went in, and then he was shutting his locker, making sure it latched.
He liked chemistry mostly. He liked learning about it, and most of it fascinated him. He liked everything but the labs, really, and only that because it usually entailed team work or group participation – which was just a huge ball of awkward for him. He got flustered easily, and sometimes what he meant to say just didn’t come out right. That or he ended up doing all the work while the rest of the group chatted like he wasn’t even there.
Turning to make his way to class he came face to face with her.
~6 years ago~
He stood tall, a goofy grin on his face. He still couldn’t believe it. His older brother and best friend stood beside him, all three in brand new perfectly fitted suits. Rows of chairs and people were in front of him, all of them turned to watch her walk down. She had a matching grin on her face as she walked oh so slowly towards him, her arm locked tight with her father’s – the man looking even more gruff than usual, which just made Corwin’s mouth twitch in amusement. He’d become closer to her parents than his own over the years, and he had no doubt in his mind that they both adored him.
She was breathtaking, just like she always was. She’d left her blonde hair down and flowing – that was for him. He knew they’d all tried to talk her into doing something else with it, but he loved the way it looked just as it was now. That was no secret. The dress was simple – a fact he only knew because he’d seen more than his fair share of bridal magazines since proposing. She looked stunning no matter what, he’d always thought so.
It seemed like forever, and no time at all, before she was standing before him. A distant part of his consciousness was aware of the priest speaking, and even of their replies, but it was as if he was on autopilot. All that mattered was that she was here with him, that in moments they would become husband and wife. He could feel his hands tremble as they held hers, could feel everything through that one solid touch.
“I now pronounce you husband and wife, you may...” Neither of them waited for the sentence to be finished, both pushing into each other’s arms to the sound of cheers and applause. It was another one of those moments, as if an eternity had passed and yet no time at all all at once. An eternity because the moment was so full no time in the world could have contained it, no time because he knew at that moment that no amount of time would ever be enough for them.
~5 Years Ago~
He rocked back and forth in the dim glow of the night light. She was so little in his arms: so precious. The wail that had woken them up earlier had finally turned into barely more than sniffles as he alternated between cooing, humming, and singing to her. Everyone had said they should have waited, that they were still so young - but they’d been ready. It had been just a month since they’d welcomed her into their world, and it had taken mere moments for her to completely fill up both of their hearts.
Eventually, even those small sniffles died down, and he was holding her close to his heart as she slept - reluctant to give up the contact just yet. Moving shadows caught his attention and made him look up. The rest of his world stood, leaning against the door frame wearing her usual bedtime oversized shirt. The look on her face was indulgent as she leaned there, just watching him.
Her hair was a mess, always was after she’d been sleeping. It was almost as if as soon as her head hit the pillow, it messed up. She looked barely awake as she stood there, only moving to hold out her hand to him: her way of saying it was time to put the baby down and come back to bed. This had become almost routine, really.
With a sheepish smile, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to the soft skin of his daughter’s forehead before rocking himself up into a standing position, and slowly moving over to the crib. He stood there a moment longer, just watching her sleep, before a warm hand slid into his, leading him away.
~1 Year Ago ~
He chuckled as he watched her strut around in her brand new soccer uniform. Looking at her, it felt as if it had been just yesterday that they’d brought her home, and now she was off to play soccer, of all things. Oh how he wished he could be going with them - that he could watch her play and laugh. His camera and supplies were all packed and ready to go, and there was a bridal party that wouldn’t appreciate him deciding not to show, considering they’d booked him months in advance.
Right now, he had his personal camera out, and was snapping more pictures than was necessary of his little girl all in her “grown up” Timbits uniform. His other half was constantly teasing him that by the time she was all grown, they’d need to buy a second house just to house all the photo albums. He might have been embarrassed, if the teasing wasn’t done in that soft indulgent tone of hers that let him know she didn’t really mind. As it was, she went back over the pictures just as often as he did.
“Alright Princess, let’s get movin’ or we’re going to be late.” The voice was soft, always soft. His eyes, and camera moved upwards at her words, allowing him to snap off a picture of her as well. She wasn’t expecting it, allowing him to catch her with that indulgent look on her face as she watched them. It earned him a roll of her eyes. He didn’t mind.
***
He loaded the last of his gear into the trunk of his car then gently shut the lid, the action causing him to smirk. He always shut the trunk gently when she wasn’t around - mostly because of the constant lectures she gave when he slammed it shut. This was why, whenever she was around, he made sure to slam it - just so she’d get that cute scowl on her face.
He was brought out of his musings by the feeling of his phone vibrating in his pocket. He didn’t check the caller I.D., just flipped his phone open and moved it up to his ear as he answered.
***
He refused to move. Refused. He didn’t give a damn if it wasn’t appropriate - and he especially didn’t give a damn about whatever anyone was thinking right now. He could hear the buzzing sound, which he assumed was actually someone’s voice. There were other sounds, but he refused to focus on those - he couldn’t. He’d fall apart if he did.
Not that he wasn’t falling apart. How could he not? They were so damned still and it just wasn’t right. None of this was right. His little girl was dressed up like the princess she was, cuddled tight to her mother. He’d refused to have them separate, not now. The thought of either of them alone was enough to send him into a fierce panic attack. He couldn’t go with them, but at least they could go together.
He let his eyelids close, picturing them as they were before. He could almost hear the laughter ringing in his ears as they played. He continued the playback even as he felt a hand on his shoulder, and heard the soft “thud” letting him now they’d finally closed the lid.
He wasn’t ready to say good-bye. It wasn’t time.
From Then Til Now
- Corwin
- Registered User
- Posts: 12
- Joined: 17 Feb 2013, 02:32
From Then Til Now
Internet Handle: User_123
~~Pretties by Chelle~~
- Corwin
- Registered User
- Posts: 12
- Joined: 17 Feb 2013, 02:32
Re: From Then Til Now
~Present Day~
He was running; running as fast as he could, even as he felt the dread build up inside of him. There were no cars zooming past, no other pedestrians as he raced against time to get to where he needed to be.
He came to an abrupt stop at the corner of Elm and Queen Street. One lone car was there, sitting diagonally across the intersection as the steam rose up from the engine. There were no police cars or ambulances - no onlookers rushing to help.
The entire driver’s side was a mangled mess of metal and broken glass, and it was all smashed in. He could see the engine where the hood and front no longer met. He could see the blond hair flowing out of where the driver’s window used to be, matted in blood.
Falling to his knees he howled. There was no other word to describe the gut wrenching sound that left his throat. He was late. He was always too late.
As the scream tore out of him he was torn away from the nightmare: brought back to the emptiness of his bedroom. The scream turned into a whole body sob as he curled up, the feelings of grief coursing through him just as strongly as they had from the moment he received the call. “There’s been an accident. We need you to come down....” From that moment on, everything was shattered.
He hadn’t been on the scene - they’d already been removed from the vehicle by the time they’d called him. Neither had died on impact - they’d both been rushed to the hospital where they’d worked for hours to save them. Hours of him in the waiting room with her mother’s arms around him as they both wept. Her father had been beside him, looking gruff except for his very red eyes. They’d hoped, they’d prayed, they’d cried, they’d begged.
The doctor’s face when he came out to greet them had said it all. They hadn’t wanted to let him see. He’d pleaded until they relented. The sight of their lifeless bodies would be with him forever, he knew that. They hadn’t been beautified up yet, like they had been for the funeral - there were still smears of blood that hadn’t gotten wiped away. There was no way to pretend they were just sleeping as he went to see first his little princess, and then his heart.
They’d looked so alone - it was why he’d been so adamant they be buried together instead of in separate caskets. There had been little he’d felt enough for to voice over the next few days as plans had been made - but that had been one of them.
The dreams were still a nightly occurrence, though they were never quite the same. Some days it was like this - he found himself running towards the car as if he could save them if he just ran fast enough. Sometimes he was the one standing over them covered in their blood as he tried to keep them alive. Sometimes he was staring down into a casket, watching his daughter’s eyes open before she asked him why he hadn’t been there.
He always woke the same, though. Always got the same pitying looks from his neighbours when he saw them - the apartment walls were thin, and wouldn’t do much to hide the sounds of his grief first thing in the morning. Some days it was all too much and he never even left, not wanting to deal with it.
When he’d finally reached the point where he’d cried until he’d have sworn there was nothing left, and the emptiness felt like it was clawing at his insides, he crawled out of his bed - reaching over for whatever bottle was closest. He didn’t taste whatever it was, the taste didn’t matter. It was the numbing sensation he was looking for. Some days he could numb himself up enough to be able to leave, get some work done so he could pay his bills. Other days there was no amount of alcohol in the world that would give him that.
He was running; running as fast as he could, even as he felt the dread build up inside of him. There were no cars zooming past, no other pedestrians as he raced against time to get to where he needed to be.
He came to an abrupt stop at the corner of Elm and Queen Street. One lone car was there, sitting diagonally across the intersection as the steam rose up from the engine. There were no police cars or ambulances - no onlookers rushing to help.
The entire driver’s side was a mangled mess of metal and broken glass, and it was all smashed in. He could see the engine where the hood and front no longer met. He could see the blond hair flowing out of where the driver’s window used to be, matted in blood.
Falling to his knees he howled. There was no other word to describe the gut wrenching sound that left his throat. He was late. He was always too late.
As the scream tore out of him he was torn away from the nightmare: brought back to the emptiness of his bedroom. The scream turned into a whole body sob as he curled up, the feelings of grief coursing through him just as strongly as they had from the moment he received the call. “There’s been an accident. We need you to come down....” From that moment on, everything was shattered.
He hadn’t been on the scene - they’d already been removed from the vehicle by the time they’d called him. Neither had died on impact - they’d both been rushed to the hospital where they’d worked for hours to save them. Hours of him in the waiting room with her mother’s arms around him as they both wept. Her father had been beside him, looking gruff except for his very red eyes. They’d hoped, they’d prayed, they’d cried, they’d begged.
The doctor’s face when he came out to greet them had said it all. They hadn’t wanted to let him see. He’d pleaded until they relented. The sight of their lifeless bodies would be with him forever, he knew that. They hadn’t been beautified up yet, like they had been for the funeral - there were still smears of blood that hadn’t gotten wiped away. There was no way to pretend they were just sleeping as he went to see first his little princess, and then his heart.
They’d looked so alone - it was why he’d been so adamant they be buried together instead of in separate caskets. There had been little he’d felt enough for to voice over the next few days as plans had been made - but that had been one of them.
The dreams were still a nightly occurrence, though they were never quite the same. Some days it was like this - he found himself running towards the car as if he could save them if he just ran fast enough. Sometimes he was the one standing over them covered in their blood as he tried to keep them alive. Sometimes he was staring down into a casket, watching his daughter’s eyes open before she asked him why he hadn’t been there.
He always woke the same, though. Always got the same pitying looks from his neighbours when he saw them - the apartment walls were thin, and wouldn’t do much to hide the sounds of his grief first thing in the morning. Some days it was all too much and he never even left, not wanting to deal with it.
When he’d finally reached the point where he’d cried until he’d have sworn there was nothing left, and the emptiness felt like it was clawing at his insides, he crawled out of his bed - reaching over for whatever bottle was closest. He didn’t taste whatever it was, the taste didn’t matter. It was the numbing sensation he was looking for. Some days he could numb himself up enough to be able to leave, get some work done so he could pay his bills. Other days there was no amount of alcohol in the world that would give him that.
Internet Handle: User_123
~~Pretties by Chelle~~