Fly Away

49 - reminders of her

Song: Daniel Caeser - Death and Taxes (Slowed and Reverb)

Rocco

Blood all over the floor, on my clothes, covering every inch of my skin.

The shrill of a scream and the blanketed silence that follows sends a shiver wracking through my sweaty body.

I try to blink my eyes fast to clear the haze and blurriness, but everything is so dark and my feet are sticking to the floor as I walk through the quiet, empty house. Cold walls, freezing air, bloody body.

"Mia, where are you?" No noise coming from my mouth, just the deadly silence that wraps around my heart and latches itself onto my skin. Something is wrong.

A gunshot.

A cry.

A thud.

Silence again.

My breathing is erratic now and my mind is swarmed with thoughts, possibilities, worst case scenarios.

Mia. I need to find her.

I'm scrambling to search the empty rooms, devoid of any movement and life. All of the furniture is covered in white sheets, boxes stacked, curtains closed to hide the forbidden world outside.

Panic rises inside of me, my heart thrumming against my chest frantically.

I almost slip on the wooden floors, coated in that same sickly dark red blood that's staining my feet, my arms, everything.

I stumble into my bedroom, the same void-of-life bedroom, but the only difference this time is the sheets.

Every single one of them is stained red with blood. Splattered like ink on a canvas.

A lump on the mattress makes me move forward towards it, the chill creeping deeper into my bones and the frantic pumping of my heart increasing until I can hear it in my ears. My body is screaming at me to leave, to look somewhere else, to open my eyes, but it's like I'm not in control anymore.

Dark hair splayed out against the bed, a pool of liquid surrounding her naked body, eyes closed like she's sleeping.

Her face is stark white and I reach out to touch her pale skin, rearing back immediately from the shock of how ice cold she is.

"Mia." The whisper finally leaves me, but she doesn't stir, doesn't speak, doesn't wake up and now I'm climbing onto the bed and lifting her so her limp, fragile body is splayed out on my lap.

I press my fingers against the side of her neck, feeling for her pulse, but nothing.

Everything is still.

I don't realise the hot streaks of tears on my face until they fall onto her own, staining the perfect skin in red yet again.

Every organ in my body feels like it's shutting down and my heart feels the worst, a painful crack audibly ringing in the room from how deep this wound is. This invisible would that Mia is gone.