Originally it sounded like a faucet, one whose bolts needed to be tightened a long time ago, but no one ever got around to it. When entering the house, it was the same as any other day.
“Honey, I’m home!” I quoted from my roommate’s favorite ‘50’s sitcom, but oddly there was no answer. There was no giggle of a girl hiding behind the couch or beneath the covers to give me a stir. There was no laugh track on the background of a television show blaring from the living room’s entertainment system. There wasn’t a melody of stockinged feet twirling on the wooden floorboards. All of these would have been normal; all of these would have given me comfort.
“Cecilia?” I called out, but the house was strangely quiet. The only sound was the steady dripping of the unknown leak. It had never occurred to me that the house may be mute because Cecilia had simply gone out like any other living creature does on a sunny day like this one. Call it mental telepathy between lovers or just human instinct, but something in my heart had told me that things were amiss, yet to calm the hammering in my chest, my mind would not accept that something reprehensible could have happened to her.
“Ready or not, here I come!” My voice was shaky, and even the six-year-old soul in my 20-year-old body did not want to play hide-and-go-seek at the moment, but pretending to play a child’s game was the only way to get my feet to move from empty room to empty room of the downstairs and then up to the second floor where the dripping became a pounding drumbeat in my ears.
“Cecilia?” My hand connected with the wood of her slightly ajar bedroom door and slowly the source of the dripping was revealed. Even the creaking of the olden hinges couldn’t block out my bloodcurdling scream.
My cheeks moist, I ran to her; I ran to my Cecilia. Kissing her, holding her, I tried to force life back into her lips, but the gun that took her breath surrounded her body with a chilling shield. Who took my roommate, my friend, my lover? Who took my Cecilia?
Last night there was a storm. Cecilia had planned on eating macaroni and cheese for dinner, but I forgot to bring milk home, and by the time we realized this, the winds and rain were too ferocious to beat through them with my car. Instead, we popped a large bowl of popcorn and put on the 1989 film Pet Sematary. Cecilia never liked scary movies, so naturally, she tried to convince me to put on a more recent chick flick, but I had always gotten my way in our friendship, so she knew the horror film would win.
Grudgingly, she sat on the couch beside me, still upset about not getting her movie choice. After a while though, she was on my arm, squeezing it close to her as if her life depended on it.
“Why does that cat have to be so scary?” she had whimpered, almost childlike, but I only laughed and shook her off my arm.
“Be an adult,” I told her. “This isn’t nearly as scary as some of the movies I’ve seen.” I could see the hurt from my words in her eyes, but life has a way of being mean, and I was determined to teach her that.
However, even I had let out a loud gasp when the lights began to flicker just as Gage was about to kill the old man and then finally went out when the man died. Cecilia practically fell off the couch from fear, but I had pulled her into my arms and wrapped the blanket tightly around the both of us. This resulted in us cuddling, an act we both enjoyed very much, but it was rare that we both felt it was right to get that close without having a label on what we meant to each other.
Whether it was the darkness or the emotions that the sky was letting us see, something made Cecilia want to open up. She wanted to talk about her feelings and what we were to each other, but emotions scare me and I dismissed the questions that she was asking. I told her to go to bed.
She didn’t want to, especially not alone, but I assured her that no boogie man was going to harm her in the night, and then I led her up to her room and tucked her in, in the darkness.
“I love you,” she whispered, but I had simply replied with a goodnight and closed her door and went to my own room to get a good night’s rest.
In the morning after I got ready for class and was just heading out the door, Cecilia came to me in her bunny slippers and bathrobe and pleaded for a kiss. I told her I was running late and left the house without a second thought.
It’s not that I didn’t want to kiss her. I would’ve enjoyed very much feeling her soft lips on my own; I just thought I’d have forever to kiss her.
Now, I see that’s not true. The police came, and now they’re carrying her body out the door.
“Cecilia!” I called out in a old but familiar melody. “You’re breaking my heart!” I guess I thought that if I sang a song shared between the both of us, she’d come running into my arms, telling me that it was all a mistake.
Instead, I felt a heavy hand make contact with my shoulder blade.
“Son,” the police officer said to me though I have never met him in my life, “She’s gone. She felt it was time to leave this life, but she’ll be okay. She’s in a better a place.” I nodded, but I don’t believe in any afterlife. I don’t believe she’s happy where she decided to travel.
“Son, why don’t you go get some rest? Things will look much brighter in the morning.” Again, I nodded but there was no feeling in it, no belief that the officer’s words were true.
He closed Cecilia’s bedroom door, and I escorted him out of the house before following his instructions to get some sleep.
It was only slightly past six, but I found myself drifting off until a slight rapping on the front door jerked me to my feet. Sleepily, I made my way downstairs.
“Yeah?” I shouted.
“Help me with the door, will you?” A woman’s muffled voice called from the other side, and I turned the knob to do as she said.
“The milk. I knew you’d forget it.” She kissed my cheek before walking into the kitchen, and I had to wipe the sleep from my eyes to make sure I was not hallucinating. It was Cecilia, my Cecilia.
“I’m sorry I’m late. The rain is plummeting down.” It had been such a bright sunny day that it wasn’t possible a thunderstorm could erupt out of the blue sky, but her dripping clothes were enough proof to make me believe that there was a storm; one that was oddly identical to the one that hit our roof the night before.
“It’s... it’s okay,” I replied though the words came out choked. “I’ll go get you some dry clothes.” My thoughts weren’t on keeping her dry, but to get the clothes I’d have to adventure through her bedroom, though when I got there, it was exactly the way it had always been. The wreckage the Grim Reaper had left behind was gone, but her crimson lips still lingered on my own with the faint taste of a bloody kiss.
“Cecile, here, darling.” I turned my back as she slipped into her dry clothes. Though I have seen her body several times and each time I had wondered why she decides to hide behind such large t-shirts, something about helping her change sent a chill down my spine as if I’d see the wounds of her suicide dancing on her skin.
When she was completely dressed, she started to pop some popcorn.
“Is it all right if we just watch a movie tonight?” She asked me, and I smiled.
“It’s the perfect night to watch a movie. I’ll go put in Pet Sematary. I know how much you loved the book.”
“Um, I was thinking more of a romance, if you don’t mind that is.” She set the popcorn down on the counter. “If you really want, I suppose we could watch your movie.” Her eyes sent a sadness throughout my body, and this time I knew I was going to get it right.
“Down to You it is then.” She squealed and wrapped her arms around me, and I couldn’t help but smile.
After settling down on the couch, I sighed and pretended to be upset as she hit play, but the bliss that she had created all around was enough for me to tolerate ninety-seven minutes of Freddie Prinze, Jr. and Julia Stiles.
“Did he just inhale that shampoo?” she laughed, and I pulled her into my arms knowing that any minute the lights were going to flicker out, and after they did, I let her ask question after question of what she means to me, but I could easily sum it up into one word: Everything. And after she yawned for the fifth time, I led her not to her room, but mine where I promised I’d protect her from the monsters that were waiting for her in her closet.
In the morning after I got ready for class and was just heading out the door, Cecilia came to me in her bunny slippers and bathrobe, but I didn’t give her a chance to plead. I wrapped her into my arms and planted a kiss on her lips, and a passion of forever grew in the both of us.
“I’ll love you for the rest of my life,” she whispered and before letting her go, I decided to be absolutely certain that the rest of her life would last a long, long while.
“I’ll love you till the end of time,” I replied, and kissed her forehead, and after a moment of silence, we separated, and I left for class.
When it was time to go home, I stopped at a flower shop and picked up a bouquet of Butterfly Clerodendrum simply because they’re rare to find and beautiful like my Cecilia. I was in a cheery mood when I walked into the house.
“Honey, I’m home,” I announced just like any other day, but the house was unusually quiet. Assuming that she had just gone out for a walk in the beautiful sun, I made my way to the counter top where I set the flowers down and found a tightly sealed stationery envelope.
Smiling, I opened it and unfolded the note. Two words laid before me.
I’m sorry.
That’s when I heard the dripping.
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