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The darkness lingered in every space around me, like a toxic gas. Sirens and alarms screamed from outside the window but I barely heard them, the sound was just so feeble compared to the pumping of my heart. I pressed my face into the scarlet, red of his jumper, wishing with every ounce of my body that he was with me. But his jumper was the only thing I had left of him. His smell still clung to its fibres, like a crying child clings to his mother’s side.
I embraced the smell that had been my home. Whenever he had held me and I smelt his scent; that was like the woods in the cooling air of the sunset. If I closed my eyes I could still see him. His mesmerizing eyes that reflected the beauty of his soul and his hair that was like a blanket of sunshine framing the perfection of his face.
It didn’t feel like it was a month ago, it felt like a lifetime of being incomplete. I still couldn’t believe that my Liam had gone. Sometimes when I was alone, I sat waiting for him to come through the door, standing proudly in his uniform.
War was the in-human murderer of Liam. His body was never found. He was lost out there. Forever, like an angel lost in the flaming pits of hell.
“He was a brave man,” they told me. But what good was brave to me? What was brave when I was alone, and all of my dreams and hopes were lost along with my love?
Only in my dreams, could I be with him. Straightening out his jumper beneath my head, I pretended that I was lying on his chest listening to the melody of his breathing. I pretended that my thin, holey blanket was his safe, comforting arms, as I waited for sleep to find me.
After what felt like an eternity, I opened my eyes. Sleep never found me. I kept trying, calling out for it, but I was abandoned here in the cold, cruel reality of nostalgia. Alone.
A thin shaft of moonlight crept through the gap in my curtains. Something was by my bed, half illuminated by the threads of the soft, un-invited light. A wave of fear flooded through my tired limbs.
As I took a shaky breath in, my nose was flooded with the smell of a fairytale life I had cruelly been dragged away from. The smell was so familiar to me; I had fantasized about smelling it again, so many times.
I looked at the figure standing by my bed. That crooked smile he had given to only me. His form was slightly distorted like I was looking at him through a white sheet of glass.
I reached out with trembling fingers to try and touch him, yet no matter how close I moved myself towards him, he was always too far away.
“Liam?” I whispered through the darkness, my voice was like that of a terrified yet grateful woman. He made no response. I shivered in the sudden cold I had not noticed until now. I was home. Here he stood, all the pain of losing him gone, I’d never really lost him. Every memory of our love danced around us as I lay watching his face. I wasn’t alone. He wasn’t a memory anymore, he was here. I drank in everything about him. That smell, the perfection of his curved lips, his eyes sparkling, lighting up the darkness I had been drowning in. My hopes came flooding back as I bathed in his love. He had come back for me.
Was this the last time I would ever see his face? If it was, I couldn’t let him go again. Sleep tried to close my eyes. I couldn’t sleep now, if I closed my eyes, he would be gone again. I couldn’t go through the pain of being alone all over again. But as I sat watching him, I lost the battle. My heavy lids slid closed for just a moment. A moment was all it took for him to be gone.
The pale moonlight was back to its hiding place, behind my curtains; Liam had disappeared like a shooting star through a dark, midnight sky. All I had was the emptiness I felt in my heart to know he was actually here. I was once more a lonely woman .



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billgamesh11 said...
Oct. 10, 2011 at 10:21 am:
Hmmm That was pretty good for your first piece!!! It was very very realistic, I could really feel all the heartbreak and sadness the narrator was feeling! But I am just confused on the whole sirens thing. Why are there sirens going off??? And if there are sirens, then why isn't she running? Why is she just sitting on the bed smelling the remnants of his scent? Does she not care about the danger because she wants to be dead also? And at the end, that was his ghost, right? Overall, it was a little... (more »)
 
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Jenga142 said...
Aug. 26, 2011 at 7:49 am:
Hi there, i am the author of absent visitor and am very new to Teenink, I would really appreciate it if some people will give me honest feedback about my work .......thankyou xxxx
 
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