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Zoe Joyce, 26 Aug '12

As she approached the foot of the steps that led up to her front door, the sky lit up with lightning. The low menacing rumbles of thunder followed a few seconds later, causing her to shudder and turn up the collar of her coat. Hurriedly, she ran up the steps and fumbled with her key, struggling to unlock the door. The boom of thunder grew louder and louder each time. Finally, the door swung open and she rushed on in, almost slamming the door shut behind her to keep out the terrifying monster that the weather had become. She let out a deep sigh of relief to be in the warmth of her own home. Jenny felt a strong desire to climb the staircase rising above her and enter Harry’s study. Taking off her shoes and coat at the door, the phone rang. Ignoring it, she made her way up the soft, carpeted stairs, feeling more and more downhearted with every step she took.

Reaching the top, she let go of the handrail and turned to face the study’s closed door. Slowly, she turned the door handle and gently pushed it open. She felt the lump in her throat come back and turning her back on the room, burst into tears. Her make-up that had been so carefully applied earlier that day was now smudged around and under her eyes. Dawdling, she entered her bedroom and collapsed onto the bed, her tears moistening the sheets. She looked up at his photo by her bedside, her hair stuck to her face, which had now turned a bright shade of red from crying. Looking into Harry’s eyes in the photo gave her a great, aching sadness deep down in her heart. She knew she would never again feel this much for anyone. As she fell softly onto the duvet once more, exhausted from the day and crying, she drifted off into a light sleep.

Slipping off the side of the bed, she awoke as her foot jolted. There was the sound of stones tapping on the bedroom window. She looked over at the alarm clock – 2am. This time on 13th October, she thought, Harry’s car collided with a drunk driver’s. She pictured the crash in slow motion in her head and closed her eyes in deep despair. She rolled fully off the bed and slowly walked over to the window to draw the curtains. As she reached out to pull the curtain across, through the rain splashed window she noticed a figure directly outside her house, standing in the middle of the road. His clothes were sodden from the incessant rain and his face bore cuts and bruises. Blood trickled down from his temple. It was Harry.

Eyes widening, she ran out of the room and down the stairs, faster than she had ever ran before. Wrenching the door open, she rushed out into the street. It was empty. Looking up and down the street all she saw was a young, drunken woman staggering up the path and she passed Jenny. A strong, smell of stale beer filled the air as she stumbled by. Feeling sick, Jenny turned back to look up at her house. It didn’t look the same. They say places look slightly different in the dark but never had something looked so incongruous to her. Once, when the happy couple had just moved in, the house would always look so colourful, alive and full of energy. Recently, it would look like a dark grey mass had taken it over, leaving it dull and lifeless.

Walking back into the house, her heart sank further, feeling as though it was falling into her stomach. Still half asleep, she made her way back up to the bedroom and slumped onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling. Visualising Harry’s face smiling down at her, she turned over onto her stomach, the tears flooding her face once more.

Her alarm clock rang at the usual time – six o’clock – and she hit the mute button. She couldn’t go to work feeling as she did. Her heart had wallowed from the moment she awoke. She felt so small, timid and insignificant in the big, silent house.

The flowers on the dresser that had been neatly arranged in a vase were now drooping and their petals were starting to fall, leaving the stalks bare. The song that she and Harry loved played through her mind and she felt her eyes prick with tears. She wanted to tell him how sorry she was for the arguments they had. I love you, she said aloud. She missed him dearly. The thought of being alone from now on was daunting and difficult to accept. She couldn’t set herself free and go out and date people. She didn’t understand how people could break up with the love of their life and move on like that, even if the situation was different from the one she now found herself in. Jenny rolled up her sleeve and caressed her wrist. The scar was very faint now. She remembered what it had felt like, how she cried out into the darkness, no one to answer her screams of pain but the echo of her voice bouncing off the walls back at her. Jenny felt so empty, like all the love she had been given had been drained from her weakly beating heart. Crying, she ran into the bathroom and her hands searched desperately through the cupboards. A razor fell onto the floor. As she looked down at it, she wondered if she could take the pain of the thin slice of metal once more. Harry wouldn’t have wanted it, that’s for sure. But Harry wasn’t around, well, in her heart he would always be around, but it wasn’t the same. It would never be the same…
He could no longer comfort her.

Without him, life held nothing for her. There wasn’t, in her eyes, anything to live for. Her face burned and her head ached. Thirteen years, she thought. Thirteen years ago they were in lessons at college, passing notes to each other, laughing and smiling, eating lunch together, walking home together, everything they did was done together. Now it was Jenny. Just Jenny. Alone. She picked the razor up from the floor and put it to her skin, gently pushing it down. No – she couldn’t. She threw it into the bath, the sound of metal hitting metal. She leant back against the wall, sliding down it onto the floor. She closed her eyes and put her head into her arms, silently sobbing. Harry had always been her shining star, the only one who would stick by her until she felt one hundred percent again. He always wore the biggest smile and if anybody were feeling blue he would do his absolute best to cheer him or her up, even if it meant making a fool of himself. Those days were gone, forever. She loved the way he laughed; to see him laughing would make her beam inside.

She slowly stood up and peered down into the bath, looking at the razor. Bending down, she picked it up once more, walked into the bedroom and locked the door. She knelt beside the bed, grasping the blade in one hand and Harry’s photograph in the other. Tears flooding her face, she ran the blade down her wrist.
“I’m sorry Harry”

Comments · 3

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  • Zoe Joyce said...

    Untold Tales Entry

    • Posted 8 years ago
  • Anthony Blackshaw said...

    Welcome to Burst @Zoe Joyce. I was relieved when Jenny threw the blade away and dismayed at her u-turn. Enjoyed very much despite the dark ending :)

    • Posted 8 years ago
  • bill spencer said...

    Nothing like a really upbeat ending! (joke). I like a lot of things about this. Don't be too anxious to see your name in print. When you do, you just see your name and no one else much notices or cares and nothing else changes. Well, that's how it seems to me, anyway.

    • Posted 8 years ago