MagpiesFreak7
New Member
- Joined
- Nov 13, 2012
- Messages
- 8
- Gender
- Male
- HSC
- 2013
Alone. I wake up from another restless night. The slow and humble sunrise engulfing the countryside and bringing it back to life. I rise from bed and stretch my body, making my arms and legs stiffen. My bones, not as young as they used to be, make uncomfortable noises as I leave the bed and stagger into a new day. When I peer out the cottage window, still raining, I can already see the neighbouring farmers hard at work, beginning their day. I look it the mirror on my closet door and stare at my gray, long, untamed hair. I place one foot at a time into my pink slippers and throw the same coloured dressing gown over my shoulders. I leave the room and step-by-step I move towards the kitchen. I pass through the dark hallway with the light from the kitchen window guiding me to a certain security. My feet try to keep up with me as they make the familiar scuffing noise on the cheap, vinyl flooring. I stumble over my slipper but the fridge catches me as I begin to fall. I remain still for a moment, holding on to the edge, gasping for a breath and look over to a magnet I accidently knocked off. “90 and unstoppable” it red, as I rolled my eye sarcastically. From the heroic fridge, I reach for my cereal on the top shelf and silently remove it from the plastic casing inside. They spill into the bowl, mimicking the rain, lightly pattering on the roof. I draw my milk and pour it into the bowl containing the thin layer of cereal. I position myself in my seat at the mahogany table, staring fixedly at the clock lining the lime walls of what was our kitchen. 7:03, 12 May. My attempts to smother the memories of him, of us are compiling too fast for my coping mechanisms to administer. Claustrophobia starts to emerge as everywhere I look I see him. After two years I thought I would have accepted that he is gone, leaving me here in a dream house for two. Two years alone.
***
It so peaceful here, my mind is at rest and I have the whole world at my finger tips. I reach over to the 1970’s model eski for another Pepsi. I hurry it over to my lap so my hands don’t complain from the cold touch of the can. To the other side of my sits a long, brown haired man I call my husband, Andrew. He was wearing his favourite orange and lilac vest, with a battered white long sleeve shirt with the word “Morgan’s” stitched into the pocket. We sit together on the jetty, with our feet hanging over the edge, wondering what the future may bring us. The smell of sausages from a near by family barbeque dances across my nostrils and playfully excites taste buds, causing me to salivate. I ask Andrew if he can smell it too. He says no, and thinking it would be funny, makes a joke about my appetite. I laugh along with him sarcastically, but he doesn’t notice. He is still laughing at his own joke, and to end the charade of embarrassment, I wickedly push him off the jetty into the water. He hits with a solid splash and resurface’s several seconds later. “What’ya do that for” he squawks, still trying to catch his breath. “Wanted to see if it was still funny in the water” I yell in return to him, pleased with my witty response. Irritated, but with a smirk on his face, he grabs me by the ankle and drags me in along with him. I splash around reaching for a breath and trying to figure out my bearings. I resurface, with my eye’s still closed, not being able to open them underwater. I wipe away the water around my eyes and open them to see Andrew, drenched, staring at me. The world stopped moving as he leans in for a kiss. His hand ever so tenderly brushes the strand of hair away from my cheek and leads it behind my ear. My hand, resting behind his head, is playfully stroking his wet hair with the tip of my thumb. Our lips meet as he is hands are placed on my neck, slightly caressing it with his nails. He fumbles and fiddles with the top lip, then confidently exchanging it for the bottom. He pulls me closer and I loose myself in the embrace of his modest perfection. “ Its even funnier in the water” he whispers, and he jokingly dunks my head underwater. I hit him, begging to release me. I shoot up like a buoy in the ocean, and he kissed my forehead, almost apologising for his rude behavior. He holds my hand and swims over to the ladder at the bottom of the jetty, leading me the way. We dry each other off and unwillingly hop in the car, leaving this place, this certain image of perfection, untouched until we return again.
***
I leave the table, with an empty bowl in one hand and a walking stick in the other. I shuffle over the skink, washing and wiping the bowl before returning it to hits home in the cupboard. I pass by a shelf, leading into the lounge room when a picture of the jetty, framed and hung on the wall, catches my eye. I think back to the memories, the moments Andrew and I shared there. I try to deny the tears but it doesn’t work. My vision becomes impaired with the amount tears leaving them. I thought I could live with out him, I thought that I could concur the sadness and move on, but apparently not. I begin to feel faint and decide to lie down. Still balling, I once again shuffle down the dark hallway and into the bed where I gently place my elderly body. I turn on my side. Whilst laying there in silence, a vision of Andrew appears next to me on his side of the bed. My imagination was playing games with me again, but these were the games I liked. He comforts me and tells me everything will be all right. He kisses me on the forehead, like he did at the jetty, and lays with me for a while, trying to get me to stop crying. Once I have stopped and have calmed myself down, he says goodbye to me and fades into the darkness of the hallway, leaving me, once again, Alone.
***
It so peaceful here, my mind is at rest and I have the whole world at my finger tips. I reach over to the 1970’s model eski for another Pepsi. I hurry it over to my lap so my hands don’t complain from the cold touch of the can. To the other side of my sits a long, brown haired man I call my husband, Andrew. He was wearing his favourite orange and lilac vest, with a battered white long sleeve shirt with the word “Morgan’s” stitched into the pocket. We sit together on the jetty, with our feet hanging over the edge, wondering what the future may bring us. The smell of sausages from a near by family barbeque dances across my nostrils and playfully excites taste buds, causing me to salivate. I ask Andrew if he can smell it too. He says no, and thinking it would be funny, makes a joke about my appetite. I laugh along with him sarcastically, but he doesn’t notice. He is still laughing at his own joke, and to end the charade of embarrassment, I wickedly push him off the jetty into the water. He hits with a solid splash and resurface’s several seconds later. “What’ya do that for” he squawks, still trying to catch his breath. “Wanted to see if it was still funny in the water” I yell in return to him, pleased with my witty response. Irritated, but with a smirk on his face, he grabs me by the ankle and drags me in along with him. I splash around reaching for a breath and trying to figure out my bearings. I resurface, with my eye’s still closed, not being able to open them underwater. I wipe away the water around my eyes and open them to see Andrew, drenched, staring at me. The world stopped moving as he leans in for a kiss. His hand ever so tenderly brushes the strand of hair away from my cheek and leads it behind my ear. My hand, resting behind his head, is playfully stroking his wet hair with the tip of my thumb. Our lips meet as he is hands are placed on my neck, slightly caressing it with his nails. He fumbles and fiddles with the top lip, then confidently exchanging it for the bottom. He pulls me closer and I loose myself in the embrace of his modest perfection. “ Its even funnier in the water” he whispers, and he jokingly dunks my head underwater. I hit him, begging to release me. I shoot up like a buoy in the ocean, and he kissed my forehead, almost apologising for his rude behavior. He holds my hand and swims over to the ladder at the bottom of the jetty, leading me the way. We dry each other off and unwillingly hop in the car, leaving this place, this certain image of perfection, untouched until we return again.
***
I leave the table, with an empty bowl in one hand and a walking stick in the other. I shuffle over the skink, washing and wiping the bowl before returning it to hits home in the cupboard. I pass by a shelf, leading into the lounge room when a picture of the jetty, framed and hung on the wall, catches my eye. I think back to the memories, the moments Andrew and I shared there. I try to deny the tears but it doesn’t work. My vision becomes impaired with the amount tears leaving them. I thought I could live with out him, I thought that I could concur the sadness and move on, but apparently not. I begin to feel faint and decide to lie down. Still balling, I once again shuffle down the dark hallway and into the bed where I gently place my elderly body. I turn on my side. Whilst laying there in silence, a vision of Andrew appears next to me on his side of the bed. My imagination was playing games with me again, but these were the games I liked. He comforts me and tells me everything will be all right. He kisses me on the forehead, like he did at the jetty, and lays with me for a while, trying to get me to stop crying. Once I have stopped and have calmed myself down, he says goodbye to me and fades into the darkness of the hallway, leaving me, once again, Alone.