Because I Love You ~

Ch 4 - 4

The blood is pounding through my ears, making my head feel hot and heavy. The face before me is broken and disheveled, a look I had never seen on my friend, my brother. The reality of my words strikes me and I recoil in disgust. He responds weakly. His fight has all but lapped away in the storm.

"I did it for you."

The rain stops. His grip on you begins to falter.

"I know. I'm... sorry I said that. I would do nothing to hurt her. You know, Olive?" he glances at me with those trusting doe eyes, not a trace of anger or resentment. "I loved her too. I always loved her."

A flash of shock flickers across his face but is soon replaced by a calm pain. He looks determined, rigid, yet fearful of what he will do to himself next. Grief washes over me as I realize.

"Of course I knew. Senkath, I can't live without her. I really can't. If she's gone, I'll have to go to. Please, carry on for the both of us, so I can go peacefully. so-"

In his moment of tranquility, he became careless. His fingers loosened. I fell as gracefully as a swan, arms outstretched, locking eyes with a painful mix of regret, pain, and loneliness. Over the ledge, I drifted away. The sky had cleared. It was a magnificent, deep blue, a perfect backdrop for the silhouette of the man on the ledge. The feel of wind and sea envelops me serenely. I close my eyes.

I feel the impact on my back and my vision scatters, leaving me thrashing in frightened paroxysms in the dirt. A vortex of bubbles swims around me, twisting as if I was back in the ocean, but I was surrounded by land. I was back at the edge of the village. The blue in my mind muddles back into the overcast gray that I'd become accustomed to.

The memory that had haunted me still stings, pressing against me. I brush myself off and rise, taking deep breaths to calm down. I remember why that memory had haunted me so. The plummet off the ledge was not frightening; it had served as a respite from the nightmare when it came to haunt me. I knew, all along. I had projected my own insecurities onto Olive that day. There wasn't a single word he said that was false. My family had turned on me. The one I trusted most had betrayed me. The one who taught me to speak had silenced me. I feared not them, but myself. I was the one to betray them, to turn on those who loved me. And what right did I have to live, when Olive and Heather had died? I had no right to live so happily, to feel the excitement of a woman staying over at my place. They had died for me, and yet I stood on the face of this earth, feeling the divine fate of punishment constrict me. That's right. I thought. I fear myself.

The words snarl glaringly in my ear. You killed her. You killed Heather. I realize that the voice is not Olives, but rather my own. My body is trembling erratically as the synesthetic colors fade and the sight of the cliff drifts into shadows.

"Are you ok?"

An elderly woman hobbles out of the nearest cottage, wrapped in silk sheets. 'Privacy above all' was the motto of Akrasia, but perhaps I had judged too harshly. It seems as if they cared, if out of politeness, for me.

"Yes—I'm sorry about that display. Did I frighten your grandchildren? My deepest apologies."

A perplexed look dots her face.

"Never mind that. Really, are you ok? Do you need me to take you to the doctor? You were in a fit on the floor, screaming 'I'm sorry! I'm sorry!' Please make it stop!' repeatedly. Please, be mindful of your health. I would know. You only live so long as you truly wish to."

Embarrassment grips me for a moment. How long have I been out? What other secrets could I have exposed?

She sees the look on your face and smiles.

"Don't worry. I was the only one who heard. You must have really loved this Heather, huh?"

I nod. She turns her back and recedes towards her door.

"Well, you certainly look healthy enough. Must be nice to be so young, to have that vitality at hand."

"Wait!" She turns around. "Th-thank you for checking up on me, even if it won't mean much."

A flash of annoyance dots her face.

"When you get to be my age, you notice how precious every moment is. You may be conflicted now, but in a few years, will this grow to haunt you? In a few decades, will any of this matter? You get to choose what is meaningful to you. You get to choose what memories mold you into the person you become. Whether you run or grow is up to you. But don't stand still. The moment you choose to stand still is the moment you die. Rush forward, and hold on to those that are precious before they leave. And when they do, let them go. If you can't close doors to empty rooms, how can you hope to see the light in new ones?"

I stood there, mesmerized, drinking her words in as if she were a prophet. She turns abruptly. "Now, I have a pie to attend to, so if you don't mind... also, that depressed look doesn't suit you, so cheer up, ok?"

Letting go of the past? Sounds a bit cliche. But oh well, I'm fine with cliche. How else could a hopeless romantic get by if not for cliches?

"Yes, I see. Tell your grandchildren—sorry, I didn't catch his name, but he had olive-colored eyes like an old friend of mine, and-"

She flashes a look of uncomfortable fear, if not amazement at me. At one, her attention is drawn tightly, tensely in my direction, her voice turning curt and sour.

"Olive eyes? That's a rare color. Are you sure you didn't see incorrectly?"

I shake my head no. Her eyes open widely, gaping, staring for something deep within me. A moment passes and I smell the heavy sweetness of cinnamon, apple, and butter. She must have been baking when I passed through this morning. Her shoulders slump. She turns around, preparing to close the door.

"That makes things more problematic, you see." Her look is that of pity rather than fear. She sighs. "If you are ever held up at a crossroads, don't hesitate to come talk to me before you do anything rash. Impulsivity is unbecoming of a young gentleman like yourself, and I've had my fair share of crossroads. Don't be afraid to ask for help when you have problems. And you, my child, have many."

A strange look crosses my face. Time seems to stand still as she takes a deep breath.

"You see... my children have been dead for years now."