Struggle!

Chapter 4

The car screeched loudly as it came to a halt. I was brought back to the present with a sickening jolt. My stomach churned unpleasantly as I realized that we had reached the corner of our street. I had been so lost in my story that I didn’t realize that the hour long drive had already passed. 

In that second of realization, I was numbed. I had a sudden rush of feelings that made me want to gnaw myself, pull at my hair, cry bitterly, scream out loud or may be just hug someone and sob. I could feel Jess trembling on my right. We both hadn’t moved at all. Peter quietly detached himself from my side and swung the cab door open. He stepped out and waited for me to follow him. However, my limbs failed to obey any such order. 

The driver clucked impatiently. Peter hurried to hand him his fare and then moved over to Jess’s side to let her out. She obeyed wordlessly, her face stained with fresh tears. A pair of gentle hands held my shoulder. Jess was so strong, I thought. Despite everything I had done to her, she was still there for me. I was filled with guilt and my vision blurred as I succumbed to tears. I dragged myself out of the car and the driver whizzed past speedily as if scared of my presence. Wise one, I thought, I have ruined enough lives already. Jess didn’t remove her hand from my shoulder and steered me towards the middle of the street, where Hannah would get to hear the terrible, terrible news.

A street lamp flickered somewhere above us. The path lying before us was empty. There was no sign of any alive vehicle or human anywhere. The houses lining the street seemed much too quieter. Any sudden movement from any of the windows made the vein in my temple throb.

We walked past the fencing and reached the small picket wood fence door. Peter swung it open and we stepped on the pebbled walkway which led to the main door of the old house. The large cedar front door barricaded our entrance into the house. Peter rang the doorbell and we waited in a hushed silence. I could hear my heart pounding against my chest. Hurried footsteps broke the storming silence and the double doors parted to reveal Hannah’s smiling face, anticipating guests. 

As soon as she saw us, her smile faltered. Jess ran forward to hug her while I stayed rooted to the stone beneath my feet. I could hear nothing. My vision was faltering behind the blur of my guilt and grief. 

I didn’t know how long it had been since I stood in the doorway. Peter tried to pull me inside the living room but I remained adamant. People were now flooding the house. Moving in and out. People I hadn’t ever seen before, people I knew really well. Even dogs were there though my mind was too numb to think of the reason of their presence. 

Finally, as the night sky grew deeper and deeper, someone approached me and collected my limp less self into a hug. Hannah. Why didn’t she hate me now? ‘I won’t let him hurt you too’, she whispered.  

I was taken aback. I wanted to tell her to get away from me. To hate me. But I didn’t have the strength to do so. I was a coward. 

She walked me inside and I complied. We sat on the sofa near the fireplace, and Hannah pulled me closer to her. My head was resting in her lap. I could hear her sobbing. Did she know about May? Then, why didn’t she hate me? 

The little clock on the wall ticked loudly as each second passed. May often said that the clock always became louder whenever she waited for something impatiently. It did. I could hear it’s nagging ‘tick tock’ thrumming against my eardrum even though I knew what I was waiting for would never come.

…

It had been two months since we came back from our camping trip. The longest months I had possibly ever lived. Grief, loss, funeral … it was something I never wanted to re-live again. I rocked back and forth slowly, soaking the early morning sun. Sleep hadn’t been very friendly towards me in the past eight weeks. I fingered the panels of the wooden swing, imagining Clove seated beside me. This is how it used to be. We both were the early birds of the house. Clove and I came onto this swing in our front porch, both holding steaming mugs of coffee or chocolate every morning. And then we used to talk to our hearts content till Hannah used to call us in for breakfast.