Monday, November 16, 2009

Going III

They opened the door, he entered. His heart gave a leap: there she was.
He would've been able to spot her silhouette anywhere, anytime. His hands had known that figure just once, but so completely it'd been enough. And if he hadn't been able to see it, he'd felt its presence from miles.
There was her hair falling over her shoulders, in startlingly fair curls, and her aquiline nose. She was standing by the window, looking at the opposite wall. Completely still in her blue hospital gown, she'd not seen him yet.
He gave the first steps towards her, with a ready smile on his lips - and stopped. She was stretching out her arms into the nothing with great painful effort, trying to make that suffocating nothingness not close in on her. She shook her legs in a frenzy, as if trying to release them from invisible shackles.
Still not moving he watched her, as she curled up on herself, clutching her heart, and all of a sudden, stretched out her arms again, this time towards Heaven. She clutched her heart once again, jerking her head up and down and then stopped, as if she were tired. She remained perfectly still, staring at her right hand, one inch from her face, knees slightly bent and an empty look on her face.
That was his fault. If he hadn't crashed, if they hadn't sent the "lost in action" letter to his family... now he'd never be able to make amends for that. No one would.
He turned to go away.