[ Four Vacant Walls - A Short Story ]

A/N: This is a short story, and so I am putting that out there right now. More details are at the end, but please do read the whole thing and do not skip a single paragraph. I promise you, no matter how boring and anticlimactic this story may start off to be, I assure you, the conclusion will not disappoint you. If it does, feel free to throw me off into the Atlantic Ocean. But please, I offer you one of my personal favorites I've ever written. Thank you.  

------------------- 

A chill ran through my body. In my hands I held orange and yellow flowers. Browning grass surrounded me as I placed the flowers in front of a tombstone. I smiled, almost cynically, at the grave in front of me and promptly returned to the black car. As I left, I glanced back only to see the graveyard fading away into the distance. Soon, I kept in mind.

            Soon.

                                                             ******************

            I knocked on his door frantically. 

            "EDDY! ED! EDWARD! EDWARD, OPEN THE DOOR! I HAVE WONDERFUL NEWS!" I shouted. Quite obnoxiously, might I add, considering the fact Eddy lived in an apartment building. And it was eight in the morning. On a Saturday.

            I stood there expectantly for another five minutes before someone answered. It was Giana, Eddy's wife of five months.

            "Margaret? What brings you here at eight in the morning?" she began.

            "Well, I was looking for Eddy like I was screaming in the hallway just a minute ago..."

            "He's sleeping, sorry. Why don’t you come back around later, yeah?" she said, nearly sneering.

            "I drove twenty minutes to get here, Giana. I'm not driving twenty minutes back just to stay at home for another hour and drive back once again. I may be at the brink of insanity at times, but I most definitely do not waste my valuable time– especially if I had news to pass on. Now if you'd excuse me," I stated harshly in return, stepping into the apartment, “I’m going to go wake up Eddy now."

            She stood in silence, clearly annoyed, as I strode across the apartment with sheer joy on my face. 

            I entered the bedroom to see Eddy face down in bed, snoring. We had been friends for nearly 12 years now, ever since primary school. 

            I grinned to myself for a bit before flicking his forehead saying, "Eddy. I have news. Get up. Get up. Get up."

            He groaned in response.

            "What could you possibly need in the middle of the night, Marge?" 

            "It's eight o' clock in the morning, for your information. Now sit up. I have wonderful news."

            He rubbed his eyes and sat up. 

            "Yes?"

            "My father-- He's woke up! He really did, Eddy! I was in the hospital, holding his hand, and he squeezed back. For heaven's sake, it's been five years and now he's back!" I said, excitedly.

            "Marge, that's great! Did they actually wake him up fully? Did he remember you?" 

            "Well... He... He didn't exactly do anything but squeeze my hand... But the doctors said that that was a good sign! That counts for something, right?"