Kettering

You'd been abused by the bone that refused you.

♡ Inspired by The Antlers - Kettering ♡

I've lost my best friendー my brother ーand so much more. All the love that I lost in my brief lifetime caused great change, agony, despair, and series of self-mutilation. But nothing would have prepared me enough for the unforthcoming event that would soon be bestowed upon me.

I contemplated turning around on my heels as a tuberculated, middle aged redhead led me through the rose wallpapered hallways of a house that I once frequented. I still remembered every detail here; every turn, every nook, every cranny, and which door led to where. Everything seemed untouched since I had been here. And even though nothing was new to me, everything was familiar just as before, and being here took me back to where it all started, something just felt awfully different. I never actually thought that I'd be back, being led again by this familiar face. I honestly thought that there would be a party when the wolf comes home, or at least it would feel a little less... somber. Y'know, this gracefully aging woman would have been my mother-in-law if things didn't take such an awful turn back when I was much younger. When we were much younger, when this woman's daughter wasn't a hurricane thundercloud but a beautifully blooming rose.

What was my business here, anyhow? You may ask, and the answer was simple. I owed an unplayable debt to a lady I knew so well, a debt that I wish I knew of back when things hadn't gone awry. And I still hadn't paid for the debt of her unconditional, sweet, and inspiring love. I wanted to at least thank her for everything she had done for me, things she made me feel, right before she was gone. I wanted to thank her for her sincere love, for every word she's ever written and sung to me that made me so smitten, and for being there for me at any given moment. But most of all, I wanted to thank her for being part of my life at all. Did I ever even deserve her company? No matter, she still spent a great deal of time with me even if I deserved it or not. And for that, I wanted to thank her for.

"You know, for the past few days all Annabelle has been doing was sleeping and eating.." Her mother turned and looked to me with tears in her blue eyes. I spoke not a word and avoided her eyes solemnly. What was there to say? My old friend - dying. She was very close. Maybe one day, a day not far from today, she would close those eyes into slits long enough to never, ever, open again. It was as if she was practicing for eternal rest. Not another word between us was uttered as Mrs. Morgan opened the door. She nodded and left me to be, averting her eyes completely from the contents of the bedroom before me as if it were too painful to look at. And she had a valid point, I thought as I took in the heart breaking scene.

She lay completely still in her bed, her eyes closed peacefully almost as if she were already gone. The only noticeable sign of life she had was of the steady, rhythmic beeping of a machine that depicted a jagged line. Asides from that, the only other sounds were her loud shaky intakes of breath that hummed audibly through a tube. Her chest arose ever so slightly as her breathing hung in the air for few seconds that felt like forever, and those few seconds made me think that it was all over. I held my own breath in anticipation. A godsend, she released the oxygen from her lungs in a slow, steady, whistle. I exhaled. I honestly thought that it would be her one last final breath. Morphine drifts from a line of clear plastic, trailing down into livid veins that were encapsulated by a fragile, pale wrist. Anna looked as though she could break if you touched her or anything else that she was wired to like a seed with sprouting roots. She looked exhausted like she could just sleep forever, and even though It was clear she had a very pale completion, she lacked color. She had bones of glass and skin of withering cloth.

Her lips faded into the color of her milky white skin, her once naturally rosy cheeks were flushed pale white and she had lost her glow.

Where were her pretty, pink lips that used to curl into beautiful smiles that showed off her perfect pearly whites? Where was the sweet blush that crept permanently onto her ivory cheeks? Where was her divine glow? Where was the sparkle in her? It had to be there somewhere, but it doesn't meet the eyes. Who would have thought that someone so full of life was slowly losing their grip on it?