The Last Summer

Chapter two ~ waiting

Chapter one

Waiting

*Lani*

She sits in the cold chair, waiting. She twisted and knotted her hands as if doing so would hold back her inner turmoil. Despair roamed the room, expelled on the breath of other worriers who were doing their best to bite down on the pain that brought them here. The thin plastic seat offered no comfort, the metal arms dug into her forearms. She rolled her shoulders as unease swept through her like adrenaline. She continued crossing and recrossing her legs impatiently. Snow clattered against the window in sync with the steady pitter-patter of her heart. The pungent smell of bleach teased her nostrils with a constant haunting presence. Her fists clench in frustration as she waits. She waits for news, for hope.

Along the corridor, children play. She listens to their musical laughter and jealousy courses through her. Their innocent faces lit with naivety; unaware of life’s cruelty. People joked and laughed in a nearby room, relieved that their loved one was well.

She couldn’t taste the hunger that was gnawing at her. Panic overpowered everything else. The children scattered, leaving the corridor filled with only the fading rays of light, and the nervous emptiness of dusk. She doesn’t notice the hectic mood and noise of rush hour. Her thoughts are elsewhere; dominated by flashbacks – flashes of images and sounds. She replays her life for what seems to be hours, scouring her memory for ways she could have prevented this outcome. Her hands clenched so tight she couldn’t feel them, they’d long ago gone numb. She desperately wished she were the one in the room across the hall.

Alarm and despair crawl through her body as a loud beeping noise fills the atmosphere leaving a kind of distress no one wants to experience in its wake. Her eyes dilate with fear, and she paces the cold hallway. She soon began making false promises to herself while wiping her tear streaked face with the back of her hand. Her insistent demand for information was consistently denied, so she listened. In the next room there seemed to be a cacophony of noises. Doctors began giving harsh, loud orders all at once, metal clanked; the beeping rang through the room creating a harsh sound against the desperation. The beeping soon became a never-ending alarm, and no matter how hard she tried, the dream never ceased. She stood in a room, consumed by despair, still waiting for news, for hope.

She did the only thing she could think of. She allowed herself to be consumed by memories of a better time. Images of the apartment fluttered through her brain, the memory of the smell of paint hung in the air. Outside, the tenants in the building were fussing over their gardening. The garden never interested her, but it had interested him. Every day after school, she would find him in his own plot, barefoot and gardening. He would sit down there until she called him in for dinner when he would run in covered with dirt, leaving a muddy trail to the bathroom.

That’s where she soon found herself. Standing in the garden, barefoot and hoping for some connection to be made. Crying became a constant factor in her life as she scrubbed the little muddy footprints left behind by him. The apartment that was once filled with young life was now just a shadow of what it had been. She didn’t laugh, she didn’t smile, she didn’t leave. She couldn’t leave. The halls were filled with memories that she couldn’t lose, memories that meant everything to her. Just like the garden had meant everything to him. The same little garden she spent hours in everyday.

The heart dangling around her neck burned her skin creating a disturbance. She opened the heart shaped locket and stared at him, as she had done so many times before. His smile was beautiful, and lit up his face even though a few teeth were missing. He had smiled all the time, sending his love and happiness into everyone and everything. The plants were a product of his love and devotion. They had once stood tall, proud, and glowing with beauty. Now, they curved and dwindled, as though they too were weeping, craving light and hope. She stood there, running her fingers over the plants, and digging her feet into the soil when suddenly, she felt something. She began to feel alive again. Slowly the plants came back to life, and she couldn’t help but wish that he too would be reborn.

The sun kissed the horizon with swirling reds, and purples. The sky bled red as the sun slowly rose and she marveled at the pastel hues. She sat in the garden, covered in mud and stared at a sight that he would have loved to see and she realized that she was done waiting. Hot air rushes into her lungs, not the wet heavy heat, or the dry scorching heat. The heat is pleasant, and it fills every inch of her body. She is immersed in emotion. She sees an entirely new world. A world filled with the passionate burn of hope. A world that he still exists in, a world where memories never fade. 

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Next update, 6/26