𝐏𝐮𝐥𝐬𝐞 • Joost Klein

𝐕𝐈𝐈 • 𝐈 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐍𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮, 𝐉𝐨𝐨𝐬𝐭.

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𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬.

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6 Week Time Skip:

My alarm buzzed, echoing through the empty bedroom—Juliette's bedroom. I yawned, stretching, before turning to my side and slamming my hand on my phone. Dragging it toward me, I blinked a couple of times, pressing dismiss on the alarm. My lock screen flashed up, and my eyes softened at the black-and-white photo of me holding Juliette's limp hand, her ring on display. I sighed, turning off the phone and placing it face down on the side table. Sitting up with a groan, I felt the weight of another monotonous day pressing down on me.

I forced myself out of bed, my body heavy with exhaustion and a lingering sense of emptiness. Every movement felt automatic, as if I were a robot going through the motions. I shuffled to the bathroom, flipping on the light with a sigh. The harsh fluorescent glare illuminated the hollow-eyed reflection staring back at me. I grabbed my toothbrush, squeezing out a blob of toothpaste, and began brushing my teeth in slow, mechanical strokes. The minty taste was a sharp contrast to the bitterness that seemed to have taken permanent residence in my mouth.

After brushing my teeth, I splashed cold water on my face, hoping to wash away the remnants of sleep and sorrow. The icy shock only served to remind me of the emptiness inside. I wiped my face with a towel and made my way back to the bedroom, my footsteps echoing in the quiet house.

I pulled on a pair of jeans and an old T-shirt, the fabric feeling rough against my skin. Dressing had become a mindless task, devoid of any thought or care. I glanced at the unmade bed, the sheets tangled and the pillow indented where I had lain. With a heavy sigh, I started making the bed, smoothing out the wrinkles and tucking in the corners.

As I finished, I reached for Juliette's teddy bear, placing it carefully on her side of the bed. The sight of it, with its worn fur and comforting presence, brought a fresh wave of pain. I gently patted the teddy bear, my fingers lingering on its soft surface. It was a small comfort, a way to feel connected to her, even in her absence.

I headed to the kitchen, the silence of the house amplifying the loneliness that seemed to follow me everywhere. I made a pot of coffee, the aroma filling the air but failing to lift my spirits. I poured a cup and sat at the kitchen table, staring blankly at the steam rising from the mug. The minutes ticked by, each one feeling like an eternity.

After finishing my coffee, I rinsed the cup and set it in the sink. The mundane tasks of my daily routine had become a lifeline, a way to keep myself grounded amidst the chaos of my emotions. I wandered back to the bedroom, the empty space a constant reminder of what I had lost.

I picked up my phone from the side table, the black-and-white photo staring back at me. I traced my finger over Juliette's hand, feeling a pang of longing. It had been weeks since the incident, but the pain was still as raw as ever. I turned the phone face down again, unable to bear the sight of it any longer.

Every day felt the same, a repetitive cycle of going through the motions without truly living. The house was a museum of memories, each room echoing with the absence of Juliette. I moved from task to task, my heart heavy and my mind numb. It was as if I were stuck in a loop, unable to break free from the grief that consumed me.

I walked over to the wardrobe, pushing a box out of the way so I could grab my sneakers. I reached back for my phone and slipped it into my pocket, then grabbed my keys—Juliette's keys. My eyes flickered to the sparkly love heart that hung from them, a small token of her vibrant spirit. I made sure to lock the door as I made my way down the stairwell, the echo of my footsteps the only sound in the empty building.