Rooftop angel

That tiny, unlit kitchen

One year before meeting one.....

Oliver runs his clammy hands through his hair. Sighing and tossing the blankets off of him, he walks towards the tiny unlit kitchen. Dust had settled on everything. Which made him irritated that this place was becoming a hole. A big, black empty hole.

No more laughter.

No more tea and biscuits.

No more movie nights.

No more failed cooking attempts.

No more happiness.

No more memories.

Oh sweet memories.

Oliver runs his hands over the stained white bench tops. Collecting dust as he follows the bench around and around and around. Once upon a time there was light in this tiny kitchen. But that was gone.

Just like her.

He slams his fist on the bench causing the dust to rise and fall. Like his chest. Out and in. Out and in. Air was running through him. Blood was pumping in his veins. He was a fully functioning healthy young man.

Oh how he wishes he wasn't.

As tears threaten to spill from Oliver's deep blue eyes that were once full of liveliness, he scans the kitchen. Looking for something. Something that will help him. Something that will fix the way he was feeling right now.

Memories flash through his mind. But he pushes them back. Back to where they belong in the back of his mind where they will never bother him.

The tears spill. They roll down his smooth skin. One by one until its like a waterfall running over rocks. Oliver's vision blurs yet he is still looking for that one thing that will save him.

Finally he grasps the object. Turning it over and over in his hands. He runs his fingers over the cold hard metal. In this tiny, cold, unlit kitchen, where it all began is where Oliver decides the end should be. Funnily he gets a soothing feeling knowing that this will all be over soon.

"Uncle Ollie!" Shouts a young excited voice.

Oliver's brother and his niece were coming for a visit today. How could he forget? He quickly fumbles the object back into the drawer slamming it shut and cursing underneath his breath at how careless he could be.

Knock Knock

Oliver stumbles around the place trying to do a quick clean up. This place looked like a dump. Take away food boxes, tissues and clothes lay strewn all over the place.

Knock Knock

I'm coming, I'm coming, Oliver thinks to himself. Throwing most of the mess in the linen closet in the hallway he does a quick scan of the room looking for anything out of place. He glances at the tiny, unlit kitchen.

Knock Knock

What if they know? What if they find out? Oliver frantically thinks. His palms become sweaty and his face becomes red. His breath started coming in short pants and all he wanted to do was go back to that kitchen drawer.

"Oliver! I know your home today." Shouts Bryce. He sounded worried.

Oliver was startled out of his minor panic attack and wiped his hands on his pants, paints a smile on his face and walked towards the red front door. He swings it open wide and Katie leaps into his arms.

"Uncle Ollie!" She squealed in his ear as they shared a warm embrace. Katie was his only niece. She had always held a special place in his heart because she reminded him of how much he wanted children.