Black & White

Her heart softly hammering,
against the cracking walls of her chest.
The door is almost closed.
With her eyes wide shut.
She'll give up everything to find him.
But he is on the otherside.
Forever she bleeds crimson regret.

His vast imagination.
In his miniscule mind.
Dark is just another color.
Sadness is just another flavour.
Deep within the coffin, 
smiling thoughts of pain,
Forever he bleeds crimson rejoice.

The Odd Couple

The sky was tinged with orange, he ran as fast as he could down the labyrinth of doors along the street. Something was chasing him; but what was it? What ever it was, it was hidden amongst a cloud of darkness. “BARK!!” An old and smelly dog lay in front of him. He hesitated and then ran on. As the darkness shadowed over the dog, the dog seemed to become part of this, this… it was too strange and scary to be called anything. He had nowhere to go now, a stack of wooden crates were in his way. Blake Washington looked up, there were planks of wood attached from the roof of one house to the other opposite it. He jumped onto the wall to his left and then immediately jumped up off that and grabbed one of the planks. He swung round and got on top of the plank and ran forward from one plank to another. The darkness was getting closer, Blake was getting slower, he dropped down to the dusty, cobbled road below. What was this? He could see a light ahead of him; he now felt a burst of energy and was edging closer to this ‘light’. He could hear something, it sounded familiar. It was calling his name……….. ‘Blake’, ‘Blake’…………….

 

“Blake, wake up!!!” bellowed Ernie as he rattled the brains out of Blake. “Come on Blake wake up, we have to go somewhere now and I can’t rememb-“

“-Ernie!!!” yelled Blake as he got up and wrenched Ernie’s gigantic digits of his arms. Ernie had been holding Blake so tightly that his fingers had left contours on Blake’s arms. A short but reasonably built man stood up, he wore a pair of tattered jeans and a chequered shirt, after Blake got up, stretched and picked up his bag. He then leaned against the tree he’d been sleeping against and thought about what his dream was all about. ‘What was he actually running from?’, ‘Why was he running?’, ‘Would he ever get away?’ It was the third time he had this dream in the same week. Was someone or something trying to tell him something? He wasn’t sure. Blake had got ‘caught in the moment’ and once again Ernie, a huge, tall figure had to shake him out of it. Ernie Watts had limbs the size of three tree trunks and a neck, the size of a man’s thigh. He had the strength of a bull, but the only problem was that he had the intelligence of a fish. He wasn’t aware of his own strength let alone anything else.

 

Blake and Ernie were just two friends who travelled round doing different jobs here and there. One month, they could be driving trucks from town to town, the next month; they could be working hard day and night on a farm. Right now, Blake and Ernie were on their way to a construction site where they were given food, shelter and a job. The only reason they went from job to job was just so that they could save up to buy their own little cottage in the countryside where all their worries would disappear. Blake had a place in mind but as far as he was concerned, it was just a thought, just a dream to him. On the other hand, Ernie would keep asking Blake every night how they would live when they managed to save up enough money. “Go on Blake, tell me again, I promise I won’t ask again.” Ernie would plead every time.

It was now ten o’ clock in the morning, and Blake and Ernie had arrived at the construction site. “That’s a might big climbing frame Blake.” Ernie said in amazement. George replied, “It ain’t no climbing frame Ernie, it’s a construction site, they’re building a new tower where them new offices will go.”

“Oh, okay. Can I still climb it though, for fun, PLEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAASE!!!?” Ernie was still on his knees.

“Ernie, what di-“ Blake was interrupted as a tall and skinny man in a suit came up to them.

“Hi, my name is Dalton, Peter Dalton, I am your new manager, councillor and best mate. Wh…Wh……aaaaatt a.aare y..y..your names?” Peter spoke uneasily as he stared at Ernie who was still on the floor.

“Hi there.” Blake quickly spoke to take any form of attention away from Ernie. “My name is Blake Washington and this here is Ernie Watts.” Blake kicked Ernie as a hint to get him to stand up.

“Ow, what was that for?”

“Sorry Peter.” Blake apologised embarrassed. He went down to Ernie’s level and told him, “Ernie, remember what I told you last night? No monkey business, don’t say a word, just do what you’re told and try not to act so childish. Now get up!!”

“I’m sorry.” Ernie got up but kept his head down.

Now that Ernie was up, Peter could see how big Ernie was compared to anyone on the construction site let alone Blake. Blake handed over their details to Peter, he and Ernie were then directed to the office, which was just a mobile room constructed of corrugated iron. In the office they sat down and spoke to their sectors leader.

“Hey there, my name’s Curtis.” a man in another suit greeted them kindly.

 

After a while, Blake and Ernie were all sorted out and they could start work the next day. They were sharing a dorm with another person called Toby who had been working at the construction site for a few months now. When they arrived at their dorm, Blake threw his bag onto his bed, a few seconds later, Ernie did exactly the same. Blake looked at Ernie and then shook his head in confusion. They then decided to go out and explore the site and get to know a few people. At first they met Crank, he was the sectors officer, if anything went wrong, he would be there to analyze the situation and sort it out. He was tall, built and black, but that didn’t stop him from having any form of authority, everyone listened to him straight and didn’t mess with him. Next, they met Handy; he had just recently started working at the site. Soon, it was the end of the day and it was time for dinner. Workers rushed past Blake and Ernie’s dorm, as they passed, they took a look at Blake and Ernie, some stopped and said “hi”, other just laughed.

 

They were now in the hall sitting at a table eating their dinner. They were by them selves, until a little gang of men came to sit down next to them. They all squashed next to each other so that Blake and Ernie couldn’t get out. They started getting closer and closer to each other and eventually they stopped.

“So……….” One of the guys started off the conversation.

“Blake.” Blake said.

“So Blake, you and your friend here are new around here, Eh??”

“Yes…….Yes we are.”

“We have a lil’ tradition around here where we hava’ lil’ ehh thing to help us get to know each other. “

“Sorry errr…. Mister er……..”

“Harley” the man replied with a cunning smile. What was he going to do?

“Sorry Harley, but we aint’ lookin’ for no fights around here. We jus’ here to make a bit o’ money.” Blake laughed, so did Ernie, seemed like the wrong thing to do

Harley got up in frustration and so did the other men around them.

“I don’t like this place.” Ernie whispered in Blakes ear.

“What did you jus’ say?” Harley now had his fists up.

“Nu..nu..Nuthin’ mister H..h…harley” Ernie looked down “I wna go…….”

“That’s it!!! Let’s get em boys!!” the guys around them had now put all their fists up.

“Okay Ernie, went I count to three, we gots ta’ run to that door over there. Okay.” Blake pointed to the left.

“Awrite Blake, but I don’t wants ta’ hurt anybody”

“Don’t worry, only fight back if I tell you to.”

“Hokey Dokey.”

“1………..”

“But…..”

“2……..”

“Why……..”

“THREEE…… GO GO GO GO GO GO……. ERNIE GOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!”

They ran as fast as they could towards the door, Ernie going first which meant there was a clear path for Blake. The sprinted towards the door and burst it open.

“Quick. Get em’.” commanded Harley.

Blake looked left and right, there was nowhere to go. He then looked up, It was the only way to go.

“Quick Ernie, you remember you wanted to climb up the ‘climbing frame’?”

“yeeeeee” Ernie replied in delight.

“Well now is your chance come on, ill race you to the top.”

“You’re on.”

The gang were now at the doors, they looked all over the place.

“whe-……. There they are, go on guys go n’ get em.”

“Gee maaan. Das’ Perrty high. I aint goin up there.”

“Okay. Any volunteers?” nobody replied and they all backed away. “Fine then, we’ll jus hav to wait until they come back down. YEAH D’YOU HEARS THAT. WE’LL BE HERE WHEN YOU COMES BACK DOWN YOU PAIR OF GIRLS!!” They went back into the dining hall and left Blake and Ernie on the top of the construction site.

 

Blake and Ernie were now just sitting on the top of the  building. “What do we do now Blake?” asked Ernie.

“I’m not sure, we might just have to hide in the scaffolding for a while and then escape when they are not looking.”

“I’m scared. Wot if we fall.” Ernie was now looking down to the roads.

“Well, you will have to watch out and try to control every step you take okay Ernie………..Ernie, Ernie” Ernie wasn’t listening, he wasn’t even there, Blake turned round, Ernie was chasing a butterfly. The butterfly was edging closer to the edge of the building, Ernie kept on following the butterfly regardless of where he was stepping.

“Ernie, Ernie Stop now…………”

“But I just want tha’ purrty lil butterfly.”

Ernie was now on the edge jus about balancing on the pole, he was so close to the butterfly. All he had to do was reach an inch further. Blake was now behind Ernie.

“Ernie don’t move.”

“Alls I wants is the butterfly.”  The butterfly moved, Ernie jumped.

“I caught iiitttt……………………..” Ernie whailed and as he did, a tear crept out of Blakes eye.

Such Is Life

The poor bastard finds himself lost in the deep chasm of the school lunch queue. Half an hour had passed, but he only seemed to be getting further back, it was like being in a dream – just louder, more repugnant and he didn’t wake up in a cold sweat, but a rather hot and uncomfortable one. It was edging closer to half past one and he was due for a detention, what would Mrs. Avanade do if he was late? This was his first detention, maybe she will only make him stay for a bit longer? – No, not with Alan’s luck.

 Life in year seven was not exactly what one would refer to as ‘blissful’, you would think that Alan would have become toughened to the harsh reality of constant bullying and the warm ‘sensation’ of urine running down his pants, but alas, he was what the younger generation of today would call, a ‘pussy’ . He was in high school now, “School of advanced education” as his mother referred to it as whenever family would visit, partnered with a face so proud not even the dam busters could tear it down.

Alan, dropped his tray and jumped out of the queue, he raced in and out of the other students and fled towards the detention classroom – on the other side of school. He had two minutes to get there, it took three minutes to get there but he could make it in one and a half if he ran across the field. But nobody was allowed on the field unless they had a physical education class, maybe if he closed his eyes tight, he would turn invisible and nobody would see him– no, he might tense too hard and end up shitting himself, and he didn’t want to sit in his own excrement for an hour and a half. There was only one option, he would have to risk embarrassment  and trip over so that he would have to go to matron’s office and then be excused from detention, it was the only way. Alan rummaged through to find every morsel of dignity, if any, and headed for the stairs.

He could see through the window in matron’s office that the students outside were pointing and laughing at him. He couldn’t understand why he wasn’t cool; he played Jazz on the Saxophone, wasn’t that cool enough? His parents though it was. Alan was awoken from his dopey, open-eyed daydreaming by the incoherent squawking of Mrs. Avanade, “You nearly had me worried there, I thought you wouldn’t be conscious to attend my, now re-scheduled, after-school detention. I have been here for twenty five years; don’t think I haven’t been foxed by that one mister!” Alan sighed and dropped his head to find a detention card land in between his feet. He was so confused, worried, in agony all at once that simply the murky green colour of the card provoked him to unleash his breakfast all over the blue and white chequered floor. Alan wiped his mouth and looked at what he had done, it reminded him of fried eggs, then he took a whiff and let leash again.

*** *** *** *** ***

A six foot one figure emerged from the bottom of the hill and as this stallion of a man tore his sleeveless vest off, effortlessly, a magnificent ripped torso emerged. Alan switched off the television; he never really liked action hero movies anyway, they reminded him of the fact that he wasn’t a man yet. He was getting close though, he was fifteen now and had started using deodorant and he didn’t have to get clothes from ‘Adam’s’ anymore, he could shop at ‘Marks and Spencer’. He could look like Ian Wright or Alan Hanson from the ‘Signature’ fashion range. Maybe he too could, one day, present Tuesday night Champion’s League football on ITV4.

‘Alan, tea is ready, are you sure you don’t want something to eat before you go to Naturewatch Club?’ the faint wailing of his mother seeped up through the floorboards into Alan’s room where he was shining the lenses of his binoculars that he got for his birthday. He turned fifteen last week, and for his birthday, he went bowling with his parents and grandparents. Graham, his dad, scored a whooping great total of seventy-six which beat Alan’s fifty-nine. Alan’s dad was cool; he played the violin and spoke five different languages including Cantonese and Mandarin.

Alan enjoyed ‘Naturewatch Club’ it was the only place where he felt that he fitted in. If he tried to mingle anywhere else, he would hesitate and, most of the time, talk about nature. Once, he managed to find a moment alone with a girl he liked in school and out of anything he could’ve talked about, ‘The Transport For London Organisation’ seemed to be the ‘hot topic’ in his head. Since then, he has had no further contact with people of the opposite sex or even people in general. It was the summary of his life, never fitting in and proving to be of an inconvenience to other people. Maybe he should just..

Get Lifted

Dusk was falling upon the streets of New York and the sky was tinged with orange. The wind cut through him striking every nerve in his body, it was as cold as the devil’s heart. A lottery ticket whisked past him. The wind stopped, Ben continued to follow the lottery ticket as it dropped lower, and lower.

60 feet? Maybe more? He was standing on the top balcony of the block of flats that he lived in. He could smell pizza and spaghetti, the Cimino family were expecting guests and Mrs. Cimino was mixing up her special sauce, Ben had tried to figure out the ingredients many times but it had never worked. If what he was about to do didn’t work, the recipe wouldn’t matter, and nothing would matter anymore.

 

What if he could really fly? Would he tell anyone? Should he tell anyone?

There was no turning back now, he had no shoes on, he had dropped them down to see how far he had to go, his feet clasped tightly onto the edge of the building. He looked up, and as he did, torrents of rain began to drop down, it was extremely cold, his face was frozen……

He sat up immediately in a cold sweat, gasping for air. It was that same dream again; he had been having the same dream for two weeks running. Something was wrong, Ben called his brother, he would know what was wrong, he always did.

 

It was 3:00AM, Jerry was in his office working hard on his president campaign, he hadn’t slept in three days. Election day was in three weeks and he was 8 points below top position. As he studied the writing on the sheet of paper, the text became blurry and he began to see less and less, “BRRRINNG!!!!” his mobile phone went off. ‘BRRINNNG!!!’, Jerry opened his eyes out wide, shook his head and answered the phone

“Hello?”

“Jerry, I’m coming over.” It was Ben, he could tell by the way that he was talking that it was something serious.

“Ermmm, okay…” Jerry hung up, grabbed his keys and jacket. He got into his car and drove off towards his home.

When Jerry got home, everyone was asleep but the living room light was on and he could see a moving shadow, he pulled his 9mm pistol out of his back pocket and crept up behind the door. He kicked it open and ran in pointing his gun forward screaming “DON”T MOVE!!!”. Ben stood still with his hands in the air, eyes wide open.

“Jeez!!! I thought you were a burglar.” Jerry was still trying to catch his breath.

“Since when did you have a gun? And why weren’t you home?” Ben was now advancing up and down the room.

“Ben, you know I gotta work hard on my campaign, but here I am. What’s wrong?”

“Have you ever had dreams about flying, or did you ever feel that you could fly?” Ben was now staring into Jerry’s eyes like he knew what he was going to say.

“……No…Ben, have you been mixing with the wrong crowds?” He hesitated before answering and then approached Ben.

“Last week, I could’ve sworn that I was raised above the ground at least 4 inches!! And for the last two weeks, I’ve been having the same dream that I am at the top of the block of flats and I jump off,” he was anxiously scurrying around the room, he stopped and looked at the portrait of their late father “ What about Dad? Did he ever mention anything?” Ben looked up and noticed that Jerry’s Wife, Kady, was at the door.

“Hey Jerry, you said you weren’t coming home.” She entered the room and went up Jerry to massage his shoulders.

“Yeah, well, Ben called and wanted to talk to me,” Jerry desperately trying to think of an excuse for what Ben wanted to talk about “something about a dangerous neighbourhood and he wants to move in with us for a while. Is that okay?” it wasn’t the best idea but it was something.

“Yeah sure Ben! You’re always welcome to our house, stay here tonight and then bring your stuff in the morning.” Kady went back up stairs after hearing the baby cry several times.

“I don’t want you to talk about this kinda crap to anyone okay?” Jerry hesitated and then started to walk out of the room.

“Why do you care so much about who I tell?” Ben was now curious and was yet again staring into Jerry’s eyes but now with more inquisitiveness.

“…..J..J-Just keep your mouth shut before the cops think you’re crazy and take you in! Then what will people think of me!!” Jerry turned round and tried to walk out as quick as he could before Ben could say anymore, but he wasn’t quick enough.

“That’s all you care about, isn’t it?! Your stupid Campaign!!!” a tear fell from Ben’s right eye.

“At least I’m doing something with my life instead of wasting it away with stupid worthless paintings!!!” Jerry could now hear the baby crying; he turned round and ran upstairs. Ben stood still and stared at, well, at nothing. Was he really wasting his life? Maybe he should live out that dream. Would it matter if it went wrong and he died? If he could fly, then at the moment, it wouldn’t really mean much, it would just be a ‘bonus’.

 

*   *   *   *

 

‘BEEP-BEEP!!!BEEP-BEEP!!!’

Ben tossed and turned in his bed before he could be bothered to wake up. Friday 8^th August, it had been two weeks since he had spoken to Jerry about his dreams. He was going to do it today, he was going to jump, at the second he had woken up, his heart had already started beating vigorously just at the thought of it all. It could either be the start of a new life, or the end of the one that he lived now. As far he was concerned he didn’t think it even qualified as a life, he’d slaved away at many canvases, he wasted so much money on paint, he hadn’t made a dime, he had to borrow money from Jerry – Jerry! He was giving a speech today at the memorial grounds just a few blocks from his flat. Ben got up and out of his bed and walked to the window, he looked out the window to see a flock of birds flying, he closed his eyes and imagined himself flying, soaring alongside the birds, overlooking the city. His mindless daydreaming was interrupted by the thunderous knocking on his door. It could only be one person behind the door at 6:00 AM, Jerry.

“Get some clean clothes on and follow me.’ Jerry didn’t even bother to walk in; Ben could tell that he was in a rush.

“Ermm, okay. Where are we going?” Ben scurried around his chaotic apartment rummaging through his empty closet.

“Take some colouring pencils if you want.”

“Haha, very funny.” still helplessly looking for a pair of jeans. Jerry stepped in and noticed a pair of tattered denim pants lying on the floor next to a pot of noodles which seemed to be growing a strangely coloured culture upon it.

“Look at this place, it’s a dump,” Jerry tip-toed around the dilapidated mirror trying to avoid any form of bad luck, “it’s a good job you’re moving in with me.”

“Okay, I’m ready. Where are we going?” tight jeans, white t-shirt covered in spaghetti sauce and a sports bag with a big gaping hole on the side, “Have you seen my shoes?”

“Might be by the rats nest, or possibly sitting by the dust bunny, I really don’t know. “

“Found them!” Ben wiped the paint off one of them and jumped around trying to get his shoes on.

 

“Okay so here’s the deal, I’m giving my speech at 2:00 PM I’ll drop you off at my house and you just meet me at the memorial grounds at 1:30 Pm sharp. Alright?” Jerry pulled up outside his house and looked at Ben.

“Yeah, sure, whatever,” Ben was trying to figure out how all his clothes had dropped out of his bag.

“Right, now scram!” Ben got out of the car seizing all his clothes in a big bundle in his arms. Jerry drove off and Ben was left alone. He shuffled up along the driveway path, careful not to drop any of his clothes. Kady opened the door with baby Ruth in her arms. “Ben!! Hey!! Ermmm one moment, “she went inside and came back out with a large plastic bag, “here, put them in the bag, we’ll get you a suitcase when we get inside”

“Ermmm yeah, sure. Are you going to Jerry’s speech?” Ben looked up at the skies, he could really feel it, he really wanted to fly.

 

People started to gather around the entrance of the memorial grounds, the speech would start shortly. Jerry paced up and down his podium wondering where Ben could be.

“He was supposed to be here at 1:30!!! Let me call hi-, “his phone rang, it was Ben, “Where the hell are you!?”

“Dude look up and at 4 o’ clock!! I’m waving!!” Ben was bellowing from the top of his voice. Jerry looked up. “What the….. Holy S***!!! Ben do not jump!!! I’m on my way!!” The press was now gathering, the speech was supposed to have started; the helicopters were now following Jerry’s movement towards the block of flats.

 

“Woooo!!! This is great!!! This is better than in my dreams!” Ben was now dancing along the edge building.

“Ben, listen to me. You can’t fly, now come here. Don’t be so stupid!!! I’m supposed to be giving my speech!”

“Well, go do your stupid speech I don’t care! I’m jumping!!”

“Go on then, do it! I bet you don’t!” secretly hoping that he wouldn’t.

“Okay, 3…”

Jerry looked up immediately.

“2….” Ben was not even anxious one bit. Jerry on the other hand, began to advance toward Ben, if only he had started moving earlier, it was too late.

“1…….” and with that, Ben leaped off the edge of the building. He closed his eyes firmly; mixed emotions were flowing through his absent mind.

As thoughts/memories of the last few weeks raced through his mind, a tear crept out of his eye, flying upwards.

‘You can’t fly’, Jerry’s words looped in Ben’s head. `        Would this be the end of it all? He could now feel, a bright white light gleaming through his eyelids. Ben opened his eyes; he could see clouds and his brother, smiling next to him.

Grief Is Hard

I looked to my left; there she lay, as pretty, pure and innocent as ever. Each time I inhaled from my nose, a sweet, calm sensation rushed up making me feel more content than I had ever felt, too bad it was all going to mean nothing when I would wake up the next day. I felt her turn and hold me a little tighter, a mass ripple effect of warm joy spread around my body like children on a field of snow. As I lay my hand on her shoulder I couldn’t help but laugh at the freckles that populated it, like small chocolate sprinkles on an iced bun. Her skin was softer and smoother than a latte, and at each touch, I closed my eyes and realised how it felt to be at peace. People were running up and down the hallway outside of the room, but for me, it felt like it was only her and I in the whole world at that moment.

 

Then reality kicked in, I experienced my heart dropping lower and lower reaching out for something to grab hold of, then suddenly, a vast hole of oblivion emerged beneath me and I felt my body give in, I let the pull of the darkness take me, with my head dropped back and my eyes gaping wide open I collapsed into the abyss of the greatest sadness I may have ever experienced.

 

I got out of the bed, noticing how her arm slowly brushed off my leg, I looked back, she went to hold something thinking I was still there, luckily a pillow was lying beside her, she embraced it. I tip-toed out of the room meticulously making sure I didn’t make a sound. I took one last look at her, closed the door and stumbled into the room next door. I advanced to the window and tried to make out what was outside but the condensation blurred everything, everything became blurrier and blurrier, then I felt something wet on my foot, I realised I had begun to cry. I wiped the salty tears of my sorrow and lied down on the bed, facing the ceiling I raced through all the thoughts running through my mind. There were too many to concentrate on one and I came to the conclusion that many of them would remain incommunicable forever.

 

Four hours had passed since I had left her to wander in her dreams alone, I still couldn’t sleep. I walked up to the window again and wiped it with my arm, the cold feel of the window sent an immediate shock through me but my mind was too busy thinking of other worries to register the bitterness biting through my skin. As I looked out the window and gazed at the silver pepper of the stars, I tried to work out what share of mine was the heavens above. I noticed that one small star seemed stranded from the great congregations of others and it reminded me of how alone I felt, and then it dawned upon me how pathetic I was being at that moment, I shook my head and walked back to the bed. I sat with my legs folded up against my chest and I tucked my head in between my knees and chest and began to think, some more. This truly was the story of the beauty and the tragedy, the relationship may not have lasted long, but I knew the pain would stay with me forever. I closed my eyes and imagined that I was floating.

 

* * * * *

 

A week on, and I can still feel partial bits of the pain resonating through my bones. It goes away most of the time, but every time I see another girl, that residing pain decides to carve its initials repeatedly against the walls of my chest.  I don’t talk to her anymore, she doesn’t talk to me. I watch her appear online, no ‘hello’ or ‘hi’, as if I never existed. I don’t think she ever liked me, but I was out of her life now, one less worry for her; one more regret for me.

The Death Of Love

Monday 20^th February, the day I died. My heart shattered into minute fragments which now lie at the bottom of my chest. I can feel myself sinking lower and lower towards the immense heat of the 10th level of hell; slowly parts of me will melt into the nothingness of which my life has become. To her, I had now become a gradual silhouette poised upon the horizon, rapidly getting smaller and smaller. I’m now just a distant memory. Perhaps it was all a dream? No, it couldn’t have been, the bitter truth pinched me and cut through my skin and woke me up in time to react to the news, and now I face the toiling chains of sorrow attached to my ankles.

 

Before this all started, before the sinking, empty, hollow feeling that currently occupies my chest, I used to feel. Not always good feelings, but feelings and memories all the same. The last thing I remember was not a happy thing, it was not a hug from my girlfriend or a phone call of goodwill. The last thing I remember was the transition, the transition between light and dark, good and evil. If I had known then, what I know now, I wonder if I would be here. I certainly wouldn't have taken anything for granted. People used to tell me to take each day as it comes. To live life to the full. But a cynical fool like me used to laugh at such bohemian ways. I felt one had to have a life plan. To know what is going to happen next. I think that's why it was such a shock for me, this journey. It was not on my calendar, in my organiser, or even in my sub-conscious. It happened. And it is still happening. And I don't know why.

 

After everything i did, all the gestures, the gifts that i gave 'just because'. Maybe it all became too clichéd? Perhaps she was getting too tired of it all; she wanted something different, which explains why she was exchanging saliva with that 6 foot 2 jock. If she didn’t like something, why didn’t she tell me? The only reason I am annoyed, is because she didn’t tell me anything. She was having me on all that time but really she didn’t want anything, now that I look back, I think of how much of a fool I was. I have to move on, there is no way I will sit here like a lemon and wallow in self pity for no apparent reason. As one man said, “We must not mourn over our mistakes, but only learn from then and move on.”

 

I guess god is just a comedian playing for an audience that is too scared to laugh, and if I don’t do anything to change that, I’m just going to end up like this for the rest of my life. As I venture round my room scavenging for any remnants which may resemble her in any way possible, I begin to wonder what she is doing now, maybe she is out with him- no, stop it! I’ve got to stop thinking about her. I place the various items in a shoe box and conceal the box into the deep corners of my cupboard, never to be found again. I close the door and turn around, only to find the painting she did last week for me, a quiet panoramic view of the woods upon which we first met and fell in love straight away. As I glared at the different colours in the painting, they all seemed to merge into each other, and then I realised that I had started to cry. I wiped my eyes, picked up my trainers and went for a run.

 

My feet thudding one after the other at a solid pace that matched the beat of the music I was listening to and as I listened to the beat of the music, I envisaged myself running through the labyrinth of my mind. I remembered promising her that she would never find a way to annoy me or upset me……….I guess she did.

 

Four miles later, and "our" song comes on. I am hit with a memory. A concert, her and I. Because she is by my side, I feel not only invincible, but also sure I am the luckiest man in the arena. She grabs my hand. It is a bitter November evening but the throng of bodies gyrating to the music ensures nobody can feel the cold tonight.

"Andy," she yells, and we run forward with the crowd. We dance, we sing, and we whoop, until our eyes are swollen and our tracheas hurt. Still, to me, she is beautiful. The song rises into the final beats and she pulls me to her. At that moment I could have felt her breath on my neck. Then, the song is gone, leaving me. Faced with reality, a hole in a heart and a lump in my throat, I realise how pointless this run is. The flood of memories caused a lag in my normal thinking and I had run far off my normal route. I am exhausted and a long way from home. If I turn around now, and jog back, I will over-exert myself. If I walk, it will take me hours to get home and the clouds seem to darken as each minute passes. I bite the bullet and run.

 

I awake in what seems to be a hospital bed, the smell of disinfectant and grapes rushes up my nose, the beeping of the life support machine next to me sounds like the incoherent siren of a police car by the time it reaches my ears, it’s almost like I have tinnitus. The life support machine wasn’t for me, thankfully, it was for the person in the bed next to me. I close my eyes, think about what I last remember doing and open my eyes. What I pictured in my head, was pretty much what appeared before my eyes when I opened them. She stood there, half behind the curtains, looking as innocent as ever. Her smile was sweeter than flowers dipped in honey, yet at every glance I took at her, there was sharp pain pinging in my chest. I looked away only to see my mum beside me. She was sitting on the chair, crying. Dad was nowhere to be found, he was like that, and I knew he wouldn’t come. I bet he is getting angry at this very moment, despite that fact that I hadn’t done anything wrong. I decided to forget about dad, forget about her and turned to talk to mum.

“What happened?” as I turned my whole body to the left, I felt another sharp pain, but this time, around my waist. I lifted the cover to find a shallow cut across my hip, any other time, and it would’ve seemed like nothing, but because I didn’t know what happened, I was ever so slightly worried.

“You were found unconscious in the park near your old school. Andy, what were you d...do...doing?” Mum had managed to hold back the tears momentarily but as she finished off the sentence, they returned and I could tell, regardless of how much she tried to hide them from me.

“I don’t remember-I can’t remember. The last thing I remember was going for a run.” Then it clicked, I had wandered off ‘my route’, I must have run so much that I had fainted.

“Okay Andy, we have run a few tests overnight, and I am glad to say that all is fine and you are free to go now.” The doctor gave a reassuring smile, that’s what I like about doctors; they have that smile which makes you feel safe under their command. Leanne had left now, yes her name is Leanne. She obviously established that I didn’t want to really know her anymore and had left, part of me was happy, but some of me wasn’t I wanted to talk to her about what happened, I felt that talking to her would help me get over her quicker/easier.