Time
The lights were harsh against my eyes and the thick smell of sweat violated my nostrils as I walked through the large wall of bodies that were violently pushing themselves against each other, resembling animals in heat. It’s ways beyond midnight, but who cares? I have no one to go home to. The heat began to increase, making my clothes stick to my body. I felt trapped, gasping for breath as I panicked to find the nearest exit.
My eyes wandered feverishly around the club until they landed on bright red writing. I shoved my way through the massive amounts of people, with some insulting me on the way there, but I ignored them, not even bothering to muster up a simple ‘Excuse me.’ The stampede of people didn’t seem to move as I weaved my way through. The bright red writing seemed to increase in distance as I made my way closer, I was again revisited by panic. My fingers touched the cold, hard metal, like heaven against my skin. My body slammed into the door until I was met the crisp, fall air. I inhaled a large breath, melting the previous panic away.
My car seemed to be so far away as I started walking towards it. Hands and face felt numb from being constantly whipped by the brutal wind. I curled my fingers around the handle to the driver’s side of the black SUV Cadillac. Cherry blossom seeped from the opened door. Memories flashed of her in my mind. A huge wave of guilt and sadness rushed over me. Tears spilling from my eyes, onto my cheeks. Time. Humans need time to heal, but my time was spent missing her and needing her, reopening my wounds. Wasting my life away with parties, alcohol, and drugs didn’t seem to ease my grief. It didn’t matter how much vodka I mixed into my orange juice or how many cigarettes I lit and put to my lips, inhaling the toxins, tainting my lungs. My vision was slightly blurred with tears. My shaky hand tried to insert the key into the ignition until a violent sob racked through my entire body, and I cried. A real cry. It felt good to cry, because I felt human. This was the only release that felt good, that felt safe.
Once my string of emotion had subsided, I regained the strength the finally put the key into the ignition. I twisted the key until I could hear the familiar dull roar of the engine. I placed my hands onto the steering wheel, but not before I wiped the snot from my face onto my shirt sleeve. I began to drive. Time slowed while I was driving. I could concentrate and not have her run through my thoughts. Rain began to pour from the sky. She told me once that when she was little, she used to think rain was just the angels crying, with the raindrops being their tears. Thinking of the reference made my eyes well up. She always had a way of making things seem more innocent then what they actually were. Right now I hope the angels are crying for her, because I am.
I had finally reached my destination and I was extremely exhausted, fatigue overcoming my body, but I have to do this. I have to. I stopped the vehicle in front of the gates. Willinggates Cemetery. Chills had forced their way up my spine, like spiders running away from danger, from just hearing the name of the location. Stepping put of the car proved to be a much harder task than expected. I slipped on the mud, falling and landing right on my butt, covering myself with the dirty substance as the rain drenched my clothing. Walking through the slippery grass was awful, mud seeped through my shoes and through my socks, touching my skin giving me a cold, wet feeling. But I kept telling myself that I had to do this. I needed to.
I saw the headstone, bringing back many emotions and memories that I wanted to forget, but couldn’t. I knelt down in front of the stone and grazed the very tips of my finger a crossed the cold, wet granite. Savannah Overstreet
August 18, 1982 – March11. 2013
“A loving wife and daughter.”
Time stands still…
“A year ago today you were standing right next to me, looking as beautiful as always.” I whispered into nothing with a smile playing on my lips. “There isn’t a day that I don’t miss you. I could’ve stopped you. I could have prevented you from going out that night. I should have told you I was sorry instead of trying to justify my wrongs. I would’ve known what was going to happen that night I wouldn’t have gone out with Mark in the first place. I can still remember you heckling me for being late and making us late to everything.” I chuckled. “But you don’t have to be late anymore, Sweetheart, because now you have all the time in the world.”
