Deserted Desolation

With a heavy heave of the breath, which cannot be described exactly as a sigh or a deep breath, I just stood there. On the edge of the threshold towards the room which held the casket which contained her body. Something that I have wanted to procastinate since I came to know of this unfateful demise was to set my foot a step ahead but now it was as if I was frozen. Frozen into solid ice as I if would not ever be able to breathe or think again; let alone move. Against the door I weighed down my weight and stood up by the support from the hinge as I suspected that if I would not do so, my weak and quivering knees will give in and I’d be biting the dust.

Sooner or later you will have to do this., I said to myself and almost replies out myself loud “Better then than now.” and I surely would have if I had the strength to omit words. But being rational at last I took a step forward with my hands pushing the door simultaneously; doing it so as to push myself into acting into the thoughts of my actions that I had just made.

Entering the room was not the big thing that I had not wanted to do but it was what had been inside the room that made me avoid it. The scene was chilling me to my bones. The room was full of mourners and every eyes turned towards me to disapprove.
“Don’t mind them. Why do you have to be so self concious about their disapproval or hatred when you have me?”, a beautiful voice with yet more beautiful words almost rang in my ears and calming me.
But the moment I realise the grim irony behind it I was frozen on my spot again.

I look across the room while making myself thaw againso I can finally move towards the casket that held the beautiful beautiful her and caught the eyes of a lot of people between the time of my thawing, which frankly was a lot long.
The disapproving look from the group of friends that she had, who always criticised me down in her eyes. And when we weren’t together, they were the ones to try and discourage her from doing so. Each one was wearing a thivk layer of makeup today too, though a bit Goth in nature, which surely would have been disapproved by her, I think to myself.

The cold and silent glare from the mother from her cold and unearthly grey eyes. I remembered how she was such an awesome critic about everything on the dinner I tried to have with her family. The frequent comments about everything from my unkempt hair to the skimpy sense of dressing to my food. Even though she kept saying that it doesn’t matters as long as we are not bothered by it.
And the warm lock of eyes that her father gave me even though he was the one I was scared of. Everytime I came to pick you up for a ride and if he was the one to open the door, I’d sweat a gallon and would then recieve a hard time from him.
“… you teenagers think…before 8 o’…..not too late…..focus…”
A heavy booming voice to which my neck would bob like a little bobblehead. Come to think of it maybe he was the only person who was most approving of us.

By then I had gained enough courage to walk again towards the casket. The casket which held the body that I held ever so often between my arms. The body that shook with laughter as I’d crack a joke. The body that shivered in my embrace when I would hug her to keep her warm in the cold times. The bodyy which was once somebody I love still a lot. The body which is now … just a body.

Peeking into it I find her there. Looking as if  nothing had happened. Looking exactly like she used to when I’d trespass into her room at night to find her sleeping peacefully and I’d take a chair and sit and watch her sleep as that gave an immense satisfaction and a sense of complete, only now I didn’t get the satisfaction but chills.
Her lips that very so often curled into a smile and then into tiny pearls of laughter the sound would convert to. The lips that very often I kissed and the lips which very often confessed to me about how much she loved me.

I feel my knees weaken.

The very blue eyes I often compared to with seas and loved to drown deep within them and sing to them in a not so musical voice of mine the Guns ‘N Roses hit. The eyes that were now empty  and closed forever.

The knees shake and I feel sick.

The very errie thing was that she was still smiling. Smiling a smile that was not the smile she used to smile but a smile all the same. A smile that was a cocktail of pain and relief together, if that thing was possible. A smile that gave a sense of warmth and nostalgia together. A smile that simply said a lot much of the fighter she was. A smile that felt betrayl as if it said it was okay for her to let go. That it was okay for her to be dead.

And with that I fall on the floor. Unconcious? May be. Knocked out of my senses for sure.

The only thing that kept me alive was maybe my very thought about all of this.

That far far away. Beyond the realm of the human imagination, lies a fantastical place unheard of, unseen and unimagined. And that someday, we will be together in that fantasy, and in the realm will we spend the eternities and glance by as forever ends.

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