Epilouge

Around 3am I shuddered underneath the covers, my hand slapping hard against the empty space next to me. My toes furiously curled into the thick sheets, my figure morphing into the bare white spread underneath me as I tried to compensate for my losses. I shivered uncontrollably as my eyes searched the nothingness settled next to me. Releasing a loud disheartened combination of a grunt and a cough I rolled swiftfully onto my stomach and extended my arms underneath my pillow, letting them rest against the more chilled side in hopes of calming my nerves.

Shivering a bit I felt my jaw tighten as my tongue slide against my baren lips, slowly making their way across the surface until I was completely satisfied. The room was silent and groggy. I wanted to get up and open the windows to my balcony… but I couldn’t bring myself to move. It was dark and silent throughout my apartment, no rattling of any sort, no movement from the overhead fan, no rustling of the wind outside. Nothing but the pure heavy sound of my own breathing. I hadn’t ever realized how important it was to have Marc near me when I was sleeping. Hearing him inhales and exhales. The calming peace that spread along his face that I only saw when he was dreaming. The way he would fall asleep listening to me talk about the pictures I had taken, and the people I had met that week. It was pure bliss.

I even missed the pungent stench of cigarette he left on the sheets from smoking even though he wasn’t supposed to even touch cigarettes. Curling one hand against my chest I slowly took in some air and held my breath, feeling nothing but the tender beat  of my heart as I rested in silence. I fluttered my eyes before tightly letting them shut, my hand starting to loosen as I tried to relax every muscle in my body. I knew it wouldn’t be forever, but I just wanted to sleep the rest of my days away.

* * *

The doctor had told me my head trauma wasn’t significant, but my mental trauma was another story, and that no matter how tired I appeared to be physically I wasn’t going to be able to sleep for a long while. Kicking off the sheets around 5am I slowly rolled my toes against the floor and cracked them one by one against the cold wooden flooring. Shrugging it off I pushed myself into a standing position and wandered into the bathroom aimlessly. I stared hopelessly at the mangled reflection my eyes perceived. Heavy bags resting underneath my dull pale eyes. They instinctively flicked onto the deep flesh wound positioned right above my left eyebrow. It was different shades of purple and yellow, swollen slightly and puffy underneath the gauze and bandage. I tired to remember the events from only a number of hours ago but there was no use. I wasn’t sure what burned more: the stitches sewn into my head or not knowing how I had gotten them.

Walking into the foyer I was surprised to see a bouquet of flowers resting on the main table, with a small note attached the ribbon securely holding them together. I rubbed my red teary eyes a bit and grabbed at the small car, flipping it open to read the message left inside.

To Isabelle Noir,

Most of us are bitter over someone in the world outside our minds. The connection between you and they like a thread of tangled red twine. Limited in length, but beautiful to the naked eye, it leaves your stomach in knots as you try to wonder why. Why, was I a stranger, inside my own fragile mind? Why was this red thread to beautiful? To stay bitter over someone another world apart is the most beautiful form of passion, because it comes straight from the heart. However, not everyone knows this, or not everyone cares. But remember the dimensions of his heart, so you don’t forget it’s there.

He will always be there Isabelle. Even when he’s gone.

Stranger In The Outside World.

I wanted nothing more than to rip out my very soul and feed it to the lambs after reading the words written on that note. Closing my eyes I felt the tears in my eyes start to stream down the sides of my cheeks, my body starting to shake a bit more than expected I threw my arm against my face and tried to cover up the sadness but there was no use.

“You read the note…” he said softly curling a free hand around my waist line. Curling a hand securely around my figure he lowered his lips to my throat and creased them against the bend of my neck lightly planting a kiss that brought more pain than good. I tried to move but my eyes refused to budge any further. I just continued to cry, my tears hitting the floor like rocks I felt utterly disturbed and embarrassed just standing there. “He’s gone, Isabelle.” he said just above a whisper trying to pull me into a deeper hug. I nodded to show I heard him speak, but my brain wasn’t registering anything yet.

“Marc… I miss him.” I cried even louder as I turned to bury my face into his chest. He sighed a bit hard and did nothing but listen to me cry, running one hand through my short choppy red hair.

“Isabelle… you can always get a new one.” he said trying to strike the very nerve I didn’t want to get pinched. I almost pushed him into the wall in attempt of breaking away but there was no use. He had gotten stronger, and was more able to hold me in place when he needed too. I lowered my eyes and bit my lip, the tears burning more than the gash on my skull from week before.

“Marc, I don’t want another dog.”