Chapter 2 [ANA POV] rewrite

For some reason I thought if something like this happened to me ever, everything would become a blur. That’s what they say in movies and books, that it doesn’t feel real. But it does. It feels real and I can feel my whole body processing it. I can feel my fingertips aching to touch his face. I can feel my legs longing to be wrapped around him. My hips, desperately needing to feel his warm palms pressing into them. My whole body knows that I seriously just lost the love of my life.

           I can’t stop screaming. I look down, at his now lifeless blue eyes that once made my heart flutter because they were so serene. I caress his face, and run my fingers through his soft, scruffy black hair. All I want right now is to see that cute little smirk he makes when I smile at him.

           I can barely recognize him, I swear. His chest… it’s like… flattened. I can feel my jeans soaking with the puddle of blood we sit in. I feel a hand on my shoulder, and jump. It’s not Kris… and it scares me.

           “I’m sorry for your lose, Miss.” Says the young police officer with the blonde hair. If this was 2 months later, he would have called me Mrs. I would have been married. F*****g married.

           I can’t bring myself to say anything back to him, and I look away, back at Kris. How could this have possibly happened? I take a deep breath in.

           “NOOOOOOOO!” I scream at the top of my lungs. F**k you Kris, how could you f*****g leave me? F**k you!

           “F**k you!” I scream and start beating on him. His stomach feels soft and cold on my fists and I don’t want it to feel like that. I feel someone grabbing me and lifting me up. It’s the young police officer with the blonde hair. He hugs me tight, and I sob.

           “It’s all my fault.” I say to him. But really to myself. And then I add, “I need to go.” Before he can respond with bullshit.

           I get driven home from the officer, who I find out is named Justin. He gives me his number and says to call him if I ever need to.

           It’s like every emotion I could ever feel comes creeping into my head as I enter my house, and close and lock the door. I can still smell us together.

           I look around at everything. The carpeted floor, the coffee table that Kris’s mom Tommy gave to us. It’s not particularly cold but I’m shivering. I uncontrollably shake my head. F**k, my head hurts. I find myself to our room. Is it still our room? I need to call people. No, f**k that.

           Across from our bed sits a dresser, with 3 pictures on top of it. The first one is Tommy and Kris. They look the same. Jet-black hair, tall, with piercing blue eyes. Tommy is 6’ and Kris still towers above her at 6’5. I’m only 5’7, and I felt so f*****g safe around him. If I knew that hug I gave him before he died would have been the last hug ever, I would have never f*****g let go. What was I thinking? We should have just left. Just left that stupid f****r there to die. He’s still alive… what the f**k?

           The second is of my mother, my sister Steph, and me. My mother has a constant look in her eyes that says that she loves me, but only because she's a martyr. And her life sucks, because I'm always f*****g up. Steph is older than me but you wouldn't know it by looking at us. She's a kid at heart. Probably cause she smokes a lot of weed. Kris pointed out to me that he always thought it was funny that even know my sister was a hippy, tree hugging weirdo, my mom still picked on me. Everything Steph did was perfect. I understand it though. Steph didn't come home bloody and bruised every month asking to go to the psych ward because she thought she was going to kill herself. But I make this sound grim. It's a happy picture. My mother is in the middle smiling while Steph and me are on either side of her, kissing her cheeks. It was a good girls night for us. I'm not complaining, but there still is always that look in my moms eyes.

           The last picture is of us. It’s a picture my friend Tess took. We tried to pose, I was smiling, but Kris couldn’t. He didn’t know how to smile for pictures cause he felt fake. It was always just an awkward little smirk. So then Tess told us she had to fix the camera. Kris starting joking with me about something weird… and of course I started laughing my a*s off. So the picture is candid, of both of us laughing. He’s looking into my eyes and smiling. I’m looking at him laugh and making my weird a*s laughing face. But you can tell, we were in love. I mean we are in love. We’re still in love. I can’t always be using f*****g past tense.

           I’ll never have that again. And for some reason, that’s not what scares me.  What scares me is the thought… that what if I turn out to get over him? What if there’s a day… 10 years from now… that I don’t even think about him? Okay, that’s it. I’m f*****g killing myself.

          

           Okay… I’m not going to kill myself. Only for Kris though. I know he would want me to stay alive.

           I can’t stop looking at that last picture. We look so in love. I feel the edges of my lips twitch into a smile. Wait, I can't smile right now. I frown.

        Everything would be so much easier if we knew for sure what happened after death. I know some people have complete faith, but I'm talking about serious scientific evidence. If I knew that there was a heaven, or some place where we go where Kris and I could be together, I would blow my brains out in a second. It would be perfect. I could be with Kris, and my loved ones would know I was happy.

        But on the flip side, what if it was found out that literally nothing happened after death. Like once you were dead, you were just a body in the f*****g ground. And I couldn't be able to have hope that Kris was "looking down at me." Whatever the f**k that means. Maybe it wouldn't be worth it to have scientific evidence after all.

        The home phone starts ringing, and I stare at it without bothering to move. I feel as though even if I wanted to move right now, something wouldn’t let me. I close my eyes, and wish away the noise. Then, I jump onto my bed. I always sleep on the left side, and Kris always sleeps on the right. I refuse to process this right now.

        Sleep.

        Sleep.

        Sleep.

        Sleep.

        Sleep.

        I fall asleep.

 

        Slowly, I flutter my eyes open. I feel a hand scratching my head comfortingly, which is my favorite thing a person can do for me. Kris does it all the time.

        “Kris?” I yell out as fast as I can. Like if he’s here, I have to realize it fast or else he’ll disappear.

        “Good morning little lady! You were out cold!” Kris responds in his low, raspy voice. He makes a fake southern accent. He likes to have accents in the morning… I couldn’t tell you why. He’s quite the odd one.

        I open my eyes all the way and gasp.

        “Oh my f*****g god! Kris!” I say. I can feel tears coming up as I hug him as tight as I can. His body is cool and his form is so comforting.

        “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” He asks, without the bad accent now.

        “I just had the most horrible dream! You died in it!” I say sobbing into his shoulder. Oh my god… I thought it really happened! I actually thought Kris was dead! It seemed so f*****g real…

        “Aw, baby. It’s okay.” He rubs my back with a gentle hand. I pull back from the hug and rub my eyes.

        “It was so real. But I’m just glad you’re here…”

        “Ana…”

        “It would be complete Hell if you left me… I don’t even know what I’d do! I love you.” I tell him, looking into his eyes. Something seems funny about his eyes. It’s cheesy and maybe it’s just my imagination, but every time I look at his eyes I feel like I can see everything about him. But his eyes… they’re different. I look into them in silence for a second. Wait… he didn’t say he loved me back. He always says he loves me back.

        “Tell me you love me…” I say, looking down.

        “You mean the world to me. I love you so much. But I don’t want you to love me.”

        “Why?” I say looking up. That’s what’s different about his eyes. There isn’t any life in them. They are the eyes I saw earlier in the train tracks… And I know what he’s going to say next.

        “Because, darling, I am dead.”

 

        “Ana! Wake up!” I hear Tess’s distinctive, raspy voice say. I feel her cool palm lying on my cheek. “It’s okay Ana…”

        Suddenly I feel myself sitting up. I’m breathing heavily. Tess’s hand moves to my back, rubbing it gently. I look around our small bedroom, practically hyperventilating.

        “Tess…” I say, frightened.

        F**k.

        F**k.

        F**k.

        “He’s not here, I was dreaming.” I tell her. I didn’t want to ask her, because I didn’t want to answer…

        Tess looks at me sympathetically, trying to find words.

        “Just, it’s okay. Don’t worry.” I tell her, taking a deep breath. Somehow, a smile appears on my face, like nothing has happened. “So how you doing girl?”

        Tess grabs my shoulders, pulling me into a hug. I break down, right away. I grab on to her tightly, sobbing, soaking her shoulder with tears. I hear her murmuring, trying to console me. But, just like 5 years ago when I discovered Woody Allen was already married, I cannot be consoled.

        I pull away from the hug, looking at her, laughing through tears. “Remember when I found out Woody Allen was married?”

        Tess laughs with me. Mine, a throaty half laugh/half cry, hers a slight chuckle and uncomfortable smile. We’re both socially awkward, and neither of us knows what to do. Her hands are rubbing my arms, cradling me as we sit on Kris’s and my bed.  Or what used to be our bed… I don’t know what tense to use.

        “I’m not ready to use past tense.” I say, looking down at my legs. “Like I don’t want to say, ‘he was this’ or ‘he used to be that.’ Because he still is… he hasn’t changed…”

        I can feel her nodding. “Of course… man.”

        I smirk a little, still looking down. Kris called… I mean calls me sweetheart, and dear, and darling, and all that s**t. It’s something I usually find condescending but it isn’t from him. Last time when Kris and I were going through a rough patch, I instructed Tess to never call me any of those names. It was because I was scared to be reminded of him. Tess remembered.

 

                                        XXX

        The doorbell is so soft in my ears that I can barely hear it. I sigh into my blanket, which is covering my face. When was the last time I ate? I don’t remember… I should have showered for this, but I couldn’t. I just feel like it would be erasing the last traces of him. I take a deep breath in, gritting my teeth. In one fast motion, with all the strength I can muster up, I pull myself out of our bed. Fresh tears entering my eyes, I exit my room, passing a mirror by as I do. I only get a glimpse of myself but I know it isn’t good.

        I make my way to the door. I take another deep breath and then open it.

        Tommy stands in front of me. Her pale face is even paler then usual. Her hair is washed and shiny. She wears a conservative black dress that fits tight around her curves. She’s truly a beautiful woman. I don’t know how she does it. She looks so put together. Her eyes aren’t even puffy.

        She takes me into her arms. I wrap myself tightly around her. She hugs like Kris. Strong, but gentle. Nurturing. I feel her strong hand rubbing my back softly. I dig my nails into her shoulders, holding on for dear life.

        After a few minutes, she pulls away, and I let her go. She puts her hands on my forearms, taking my sad state in.

        “How are you?” She finally says. I look down. I can’t look her in the eye.

        “I’m…” I start, trailing off.

        “Yeah. Me too.” She says, nodding her head. She walks into our house, closing the door behind her. Her eyes search the apartment, looking for signs of him. Trying to smell him, trying to feel him. She sighs.

        “Well, we’re supposed to get there early, so we should go soon.” She says, turning back to me. “Are you going to change?”

        I look down at what I’m wearing. Kris’s flannel, which is way too big for me. And shorts. I haven’t changed in a week.

        “Um…” I say, trying to find words. Tommy gives me a concerned look, walking up to me.

        “Come on sweetheart, we’re going to get you dressed.”

 

        The service is boring, and I don’t pay any attention. I’ve always hated funerals. Well, obviously. Who actually likes funerals, anyway? Well, except for Harold and Maude, I guess. The pastor is about half way through his speech when I hear a loud noise. My head darts up to find the source. A skinny, strung out blonde girl enters the church, stumbling.

        Celia.

        Jesus Christ, does this b***h really think she can be here right now?

        “Hey everyone!” She yells, giggling. The crowd of people is silent, awkwardly looking around. The pastor stops talking, as if waiting for someone to take charge.

        All the grief inside me melts to the back of my brain, and anger bubbles forward. I clench my fists, my whole body growing warm, my cheeks flushing.

        “So Kris is dead, huh? F**k!” She says, stumbling towards the pew. She limps forward till she stands by the pastor, who looks at her in disbelief. “I will always love Kris… he was a great f**k.”

        She starts laughing to herself, but everyone else is quiet. I see jaws dropping. I shake my head and spring to my feet, quickly walking towards her.

        “Are you f*****g kidding me?” I yell at her.

        “Oh, hey Ana!” She says, smiling devilishly and drunkenly. I make my way up to her, standing before her. I smell beer and cigarettes on her breath.

        “You need to get the f**k out of here.” I say quietly to her, trying to remain calm. I feel like my whole body is shaking. Celia tried to break us up I don’t know how many times… She was Kris’s first girlfriend. The girl that also got him into heroin. Kris got clean, Celia did not.

        “What’s wrong, Ana?” She says back, loudly. “Are things getting too real for you, princess?” She taunts, with a mock pouty face on her lips.

        “I’m going to tell you one more time, leave.” I say. I feel my face burning, enraged.

        “Holy s**t, is Ana Marie Johnson trying to stand up for herself?” she says, laughing and hiccupping.

        I close my eyes, and try to breathe. But I can’t control myself. My still clenched fist pops up, and I punch her right in the jaw. She tumbles back, falling to the floor. Holy s**t. I have never hit anyone in my entire life.

        The crowd gasps. I feel someone rushing towards me but I ignore them. Celia sloppily struggles, standing. She jumps forwards and punches me back. I stumble back, but stay on my feet. I wipe my split lip, tasting blood. I don’t look tough, and maybe I’m not. But for fucked up reasons, I know now how to take a f*****g punch.

        I cannot control myself. I tackle her to the ground, straddling her as and slap and claw at her face. I feel strong arms pulling me off her and carrying her away.

        “Calm down Ana!” Says Jake, one of Kris’s friends. I seize like a madwoman but I’m trapped in his arms. He walks away with me, taking me far away from Celia. I look back and see someone grabbing her as well. Tess follows at Jake’s side, trying to calm me down. After a while of screaming and flipping out and crying, I tire myself out. Finally, Jake sets me down and sits me on a chair. Tess and Jake sit in front of me. Tess takes deep breaths.

        Tess and I have this thing we do. We both have all this s**t we have to work out. Flashbacks and panic attacks used to happen every day for us. So we made an agreement. Whenever the other one was freaking out, we would sit in front of them, taking deep breaths. This would remind us to calm down and just breathe.

        So I breathe. I close my eyes, and breathe. It seems like it takes hours, but finally I’m able to open my eyes. My heart rate seems to go back to normal, and I don’t feel so flushed. I just feel tired.

        “I don’t know what came over me… I say, rubbing my sore jaw.

        “It happens.” Jake says, reassuring me.

        “Besides,” Tess joins, “You totally kicked that b*****s a*s!”

        For the first time in a week, I genuinely laugh.

        “You’re right. S**t, I did!” I say, still laughing. Jake smiles, and Tess laughs with me. The laughter dies down after a few minutes.

        “So… what do we do now?” I ask them, switching between looking into Jake and Tess’s eyes.

        Jake shrugs. I look down, thinking. I know what to do.

        “Lets get the f**k out of here.” I say. They look at me quizzically. “This is bullshit anyway. Let’s have our own funeral. No, lets have our own celebration. Lets celebrate Kris’s life.”        

 

        

Author's Note

Bare with me, it gets better.

Reviews

[Shellie]

It needs a quick runover for grammar errors, but its excellent, again. a very enjoyable story. Its sad of course but i cant help feeling theres a hint of hope in it. Anas flow of thoughts are very well done