Cascading Flames

September 26, 2011
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I yawn, rub my eyes free of the semi liquid that has collected, and turn over in bed. I lye for a while, staring at the one I love. With my head propped upon my hand, I can see her magnificent figure that lays wrapped in the crisp, white sheets. A flicker of life flashes across her lips, a warning she is soon to wake. I glide out of bed, already dressed for the coming day.
“Not today” I tell myself, “She won’t leave me today”. Both of my personas disagree, and these words can fool me no longer. She loves another man; there is no need of hers that I can fulfil. I sit on an old bench, with a plaque with a name engraved into the yellowy gold surface. I slowly stroke it with my index finger, and find that the bitterness burns my finger tip. I think to myself, what would my name look like? Will people remember me when my existence is eradicated? How so?
I reach into my pocket, and pull out the old notebook, and sprawl these questions onto the first, clean page. Before folding it away, I add to the bottom; I really did love you, darling. I don my hood, and slowly trudge to the bridge – the walk of a dead man. Quickening my pace, I knock into the shoulder of an old woman, her letters cascading to the ground. I don’t stop. People turn and stare when I walk past. One lonely girl clocks my direction, and slowly stalks me. I know she is there, but for her I care not. After 5 minutes of brisk walking, I’m finally alone. I look around, and see nobody - not even the girl. The place is desolate. I hold onto the bars, and lift my feet. I feel contact. I let my arms slowly drop, as my body rises from a crouching position. Below, I spy the raging torrent that shall soon take my breath away. I start singing to myself. My voice becomes more aggressive, shouting ‘Gloomy Sunday’ through a midst of tears and anger. My body rattles in the wind, and my mind is utter turmoil. I stop, and mutter the last two lines.
“My heart is telling you how much I wanted you,” And with my final breath, I throw my hands back. But my emotion completely changes, as I feel the warm clasp of her tear stained hand against mine. She pulls herself up next to me and whispers
“I love you”
I interlock my fingers between hers. Her nail varnish chipped from her habit of biting her nails. I trace the hand with my eyes, and it appears unrecognisable. Slowly, I let my eyes trace around the contours of her body, seeming imperfect and, well, frumpy.
“Let’s jump together. Do it now, with me. Nobody can separate us after this.” I recoil in utter horror as I realise these are not her words, and appear somewhat scripted, as if they had been waiting for this moment. My foot slips, and as a natural reaction my arms flail to find something to save me from plummeting into the racing water. My hand finds the back of her neck, and it steadies me. My fingers are entwined in the beautiful fire locks of hair, which are normally bleached. My arm drops down to my side, and her head follows. She almost folds backwards, but her feet give in and slide off the edge. A sickening sound bounces through the air as her back smacks against the rail, followed by an elegant glide through the air, plummeting towards the racing water at record speed, yet slow motion to my perplexed eyes.

Sirens wail almost instantaneously, and the sound of grit shreds through the atmosphere.





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