The bedroom was dimly lit by a slim lamp standing behind the door. Zac moved across the floor in his bare feet, his shadow creeping up the wall like a spirit. He pulled the window up. The outside world was cooling. A tint of purple lined the far side of the sky. Zac clipped the window at the top and placed his hands upon the windowsill, gripping it tightly, his veins popping above his skin. The darkness closing in.
Moving back towards the bed, Zac slipped his hand underneath the mattress and pulled out a long, thick, piece of blue rope. The kind that was used for tying straw bales onto a trailer. Zac wrapped it around his knuckle, pulling it tight. His hand palpated into an unnatural purple shade and Zac fed on the pain like a lion mauling the corpse of a deer.
The relief was instant. It flooded Zac's entire body as the rope let go of his hand, unravelling. Blood rushed to the tips of his fingers, his hand shaking as if frantic for life.
Zac paced the length of the room, rope in hand. He caught sight of the initials D + Z forever engraved into the bottom corner of his old desk making him stop. His fingers traced the letters, his mind bringing back the memory, one of the earliest on file. He could see Dena sitting there, putting all her weight through her hand as she carved into the wood with his pen knife. The amusement growing on her face when he said Helen would be mad at her for graffitiing on the furniture, that it didn't grow on trees. Grinning, Dena reminded him where wood came from. Zac flipped the table with one hand. It crashed against the floor, the back leg breaking in two.
"Zac?" Helen knocked on the door. "Are you alright in there?"
"Fine."
Helen placed her hand on the door handle but let go again. "Do you want a cup of tea?"
"I'm ok."
Helen scolded to herself, wishing she went in instead of asking. "I bought that coffee cake you like when I was in town earlier," she said, trying again.
"I'll get some later."
"Alright then. Come down soon."
Zac stood quiet until the surrendering patter of Helen's feet faded away and then he blocked out her entire existence. Jacob's too. He slid the bed across the room towards the windowsill, pushing it tight against the wall. He looped one end of the rope and dropped it over his head, squashing his skin to the bone. He looped the other end, knotting it around the bed post.
Putting one leg out the window, Zac positioned himself on the ledge. He brought the other one over, dipping his hips, angling towards the ground.
YOU ARE READING
Meant To Be
General FictionRonnie and Zac had love all figured out until life got in the way, and when their paths cross in Tennessee, survival is the only thing on their minds. Paediatrician Ronnie Gormley told her husband they would have children when they turn thirty. No...
