Runaway Halloween

Chapter 7

Waking to a cold house, Melanie turned over to reach out an arm. No one waited for her hug, as always used to be the case, causing her to snap her eyes open.

Sitting up in bed, she threw the duvet from herself, slinging her feet onto the floor.

She did her usual routine of visiting the toilet and then back to the bedroom to dress before going downstairs.

Wrapping her arms around herself as she descended, the house felt it's coldest this morning, causing her to almost run down them to get a little heat inside.

In the kitchen, she turned the boiler to the maximum, hoping it would provide her with the much needed warmth. Running the water to fill the kettle, she made herself breakfast as she imagined goodbumps grow on the ones which already existed on her body.

When the kettle snapped itself off, she poured herself a cup of strong tea.

Going against the radiator to drink the tea, she pushed her back against the wall as she placed one foot on the heat the radiator generated. It felt good, but as soon as she removed it to place the other foot on, it soon went cold. She could have sworn she felt something blow on the one she had just removed.

The cup of tea finished, she went to the kitchen and placed it in the sink. She looked around, thinking she heard something, but soon put it down to her neighbour doing the same as her.

Melanie went back to the living room and looked around. She was looking for something, but her mind was unable to inform her what. She looked around at the cupboards, seeing photographs of Brian. She picked one up and could have sworn she heard his voice.

'Brian, is that you?' she whispered, scanning the room as she spoke.

Nothing.

Her gaze going back to the photo, she reached it to her mouth to give it a single kiss, before placing it on the cupboard.

As she walked away, she reached out her hand, wanting to keep a hold of it, but realised Brian had been dead for a few months and the dream she had last night was his way of informing her he wouldn't be around any longer to look after her.

That dream – why couldn't she remember all of it? Like most people, she only remembered bits, and it felt so good to see Brian once more. The bits she was able to remember, she wanted to keep them in her mind forever, wanting to remember him for the kind man he was forever.

Sitting on the settee, she looked at the photograph she had just held, concentrating on it, hoping the concentration would help her remember more of the dream.

Nothing.

Maybe parts of the dream would come with time, and she would have to piece them together.

She hoped so. Everytime she thought of him, she wanted to remember it with clarity.

Sat, she heard the clock's tick grow in strength, counting down the seconds to when she would join her husband. She begun to wish time would go quicker as she would never find anyone like him. He was special. He looked after her as well as he could, but sometimes she wished he wouldn't smother her with the love he held. They did everything together, and when he had died, she remained in her home for a while without wanting to do anything.

Friends of theirs had tried to get her to go out, but she mostly refused, making excuses by telling them she was grieving and would be no good around anyone as she was no fun. They continued their efforts, but even they could only take so much rejection before getting tired of asking.