An experimental short piece of writing about a ghostly romance that finally has it's end.
|Twelve. The bells from the old tower rang clearly through the town. One after another, sounding twelve in total. Again she checked her watch. The rain poured down, setting a thick wet blanket all around. She could hardly see a thing. The rain made her tears seem invisible as its cold droplets hit her face hard and streamed down her cheeks in ever flowing rivers. She again checked her watch. He should have been here. It had been three hours now. The rain had not eased since then and she was drenched to the bone, her flesh frozen. Her eyes seemed dead, her lips numb, yet still she stood on the side of the road. |
Seconds turned to minutes. Minutes to long dull hours. One, then two, then three the giant bell tower sounded. The light above her began to shudder, the lamp post swaying slightly in the gentle breeze. It had been too long. Two years too long.
She watched through the fog that had now become apparent. She could make out small silhouettes on the wall of buildings. Rats? Cats? She did not care. It was him she wanted so desperately to see. To feel again.
The wind began to strengthen. It blew right through her, eating its way through her body as if she were a ghost. She pulled her coat tighter around her frame. From its pocket came a necklace. It fell silently to the floor, the ruby stone embedded within gleamt fiercely in the dulled moonlight. Her eyes fixed upon it. She bent down cautiously to retrieve it from the road.
Suddenly, she heard the sound of a car, braking forcefully. She saw the head beams, the light rising in the fog. She heard the sound of the horn as it came closer, closer. She heard the screech of the tyres as the rubber melted on the dirt track. She heard the frantic screams of passers by. She again felt the cold, her tears trickling down her face. Her heart began to beat faster, faster. Then, all was silent.
She looked across the road and there he was. Lying in the middle of the dirt track, the car dented before his frail, bloodied body. She rose. She walked. Her footsteps matching her heart beat, faster, faster. She reached out to hold his hand once more, to kiss his lips once more, the feel his touch. Faster, faster. Her fingers stretched, her body lightened. She reached out for him. Faster, faster.
Into the fog, the car began to disappear. Its headlights dimming to nothingness. She called for him, but no words left her mouth. She wanted to hold him. She wanted to see him. But, just as soon as he had come, he vanished. His body swept away by the breeze, his pain subsided.
She grabbed at the fog frantically, as if to try to piece him back together so they could finally be with one another. It slipped right through her slender fingers. Her tears once again flooding her face as the rain added to their sting, her cheeks frostbitten and numb. She sobbed into her palms as the bell tower again sounded. Four. The wind blew pass, easing her to her feet. Then she saw it. The necklace. She walked back over to retrieve it, her body heavy, her eyes waterlogged, her heart empty.
She knelt down on the road. Her hands trembling. She cradled it in her arms. Faster, faster. Lights came from the road ahead. The sound of tyres screeching reached her ears. She looked up as the car came towards here. Faster, faster. She saw the face of the driver. His eyes wide, his mouth open. He was shouting something but she could no longer hear. She could no longer see. No longer feel.
The sound was horrendous as the vehicle plunged into her frame. Her ribs were shattered, her skull fractured. She had countless broken bones and internal bleeding, though she lay there. Her breathing silent but still alive. Her heart beating but not living. She waited. Her twisted fingers reaching for the necklace. The driver was saying something, blood on his hands. Her vision was burred, her ears deaf. She tried to cry but no tears left her eyes. She looked up wards towards the moon and smiled. There he was. Waiting for her. He was waiting. He’d always been waiting. Watching. She let her eyes gently close as she finally grasped the necklace. Her last breath was the easiest. The bell tower sounded five.