In Charlotte's Eyes

ONE: [P] Let Go Of Me

By the time Parker exited the restaurant, Peni had retreated to their cabin. It was regrettable that the day ended on a thud, but that's just the way it went. In one hand, he held a plastic bag with a spirit bottle inside.

When he opened the door to their cabin, Peni was in the bathroom, getting ready for bed. She looked at him through the mirror. He waved at her. She was busy brushing her teeth. Moving past her, he set down his bag on the counter as quietly as possible, hoping Peni wouldn't notice and ask him what it was.

Parker heard her spit into the sink. The faucet went silent. “You were gone a while.”

He slithered away from the bag with the bottle. “Sorry. I had a lot on my mind.” He casually explained.

“But you're doing alright, right?” She asked genuinely, stepping out of the bathroom.

He looked at her. He smiled half heartedly. “Yeah. I'm alright.”

Satisfied with that answer, she huffed with a smile. “Good.” She walked past him and jumped onto her bed. “Get ready for bed. I'm exhausted.”

“Right.” He waltzed over to the bathroom. “Night, Peni.”

She stretched. “Mmm- goodnight.”

Parker managed his business quietly, then went to his bed. He laid down and tried to sleep. Minutes passed. He turned in his bed, forcing his eyes shut. Minutes passed. He put his pillow over his eyes. Minutes passed. Peni breathed loudly, peacefully. More minutes passed. Parker opened his eyes, staring up at the ceiling.

He couldn't relax. He couldn't tire. His mind would not lay still. His heart rate increased, feeling as if he was going insane. He longed. He regretted. He wished.

Desperation grasped his insides, his veins ripping themselves apart at the seams. She wasn't here. She wasn't here and it was somehow his fault. Even more, he couldn't stop thinking about her. He couldn't move on. He sat up, eyes locked on the bag with the bottle of wine. Body tense, vibrating delicately, he quickly got himself out of bed. He hurried over to the bag and grabbed the spirit out, hoping he wouldn't wake Peni up.

He pulled open the balcony and went outside. Closing the door behind him, he set down the bottle on a small table, eyes wide as he stared out at the vast ocean ahead. It was quiet out.

Charlotte.

A ghastly breath suddenly forced itself out of his body, and his limbs weakened. “No..” He pitifully murmured.

It had been months. And there weren't any signs of her.

He opened the bottle.

She would never, ever be found again.

He began chugging the liquid down.

Even if she was alive out there somewhere, she was suffering.

He slammed the bottle down onto the table, gasping heavily for air.

She was gonna die if she wasn't already dead.

His breathing hastened. His eyes blurred.

It was the void.

He went back to the bottle for seconds.

Somehow, he was responsible for this.

He removed himself to gasp for more air.

By some force or act of God, it was on his shoulders.

He went back to finish the job.

How could he live with himself?