Heart of Ashes

Whispers

Once, I might not have understood. Maybe I would have looked at the situation with eyes that did not comprehend what they saw. Childhood innocence might have allowed me to see things in a different light. Once, but no more. I had long ago grown out of that phase of my life, looking around with eyes that had understood too much, far too soon.

And so it was that I knew death when I saw it, gazing down upon the body lying upon the faded, worn-out couch while the rest of the crew whispered to each other, asking if anyone knew the young man who was 'asleep' in the lounge.

Turning around, trying to avoid getting tangled up in yet another incident I was not actually a part of, I walked back into the elevator just as the doors had started to close, causing them to slide open once more. I didn't need more rumors about me than there already were.

Even so, I couldn't help calling out just as the doors were closing yet again. "He's pretty dead, so no, the 'cute guy' isn't going to be interested in a date!"

I barely managed to hold myself back from slamming my head against the elevator wall repeatedly, rubbing my aching head as the mother of all migraines began to throb in time with my heartbeat.

Why couldn't I keep my mouth shut? Why? Why the hell did I open my mouth like that, like some kind of idiot? Argh! I wanted to hit myself so badly right now, hearing the whispers that grew quieter as I walked down the hallway and picked up in volume again as soon as I passed by. I would bother to wonder how they even knew so quickly if I couldn't hear the cell phones ringing or see the various workers talking quickly to each other or into their phones.

It was just like the last time this happened, people claiming I had to have seen something or knew what happened, even though the footage on the videotape from security would ultimately prove I hadn't been anywhere close to the man or even the area of the lounge he died in until after he had already passed away.

And even then my time there was only in passing to deliver some paperwork.

No, this was yet another event where the gossip would continue to run rampant, even weeks after I would be cleared of being involved or knowing something. Just like the last time, when it had been a heart attack, brought on by one too many burgers with the works and a side of chili-cheese fries, heavy on the cheese. That one had just pushed their body too far, one too many times, and it finally gave up the fight.

Shame, too, since they had been a far better boss than their children were. Those two spent more time fighting over money and power than they did actually doing their work. As if a business was somehow capable of running itself without someone keeping track of what was going on and giving out much needed relevant orders to keep things from falling apart. Luckily, the people further down the chain were capable of keeping things going for the time being, but one or both of the two had better step into the position of leadership or this ship would be sinking before too long.

Although, with things getting the way they were, maybe I wouldn't stick around that long anyhow. Who wanted to be the center of gossip again just a few months after the last round had died down? Not me, that's for sure.

With that thought, I pulled out a box I hadn't gotten rid of yet and began to pack most of my belongings inside. At least this way I would be ready so that once my name was cleared, again, I could hand in the notice that I was quitting. I just needed to last until then.

At least I had lasted through the internship before everything started going downhill.

--------

That night I was caught within dreams of my childhood, memories that were half faded from time, but still there. They were distant enough that I couldn't truly remember what parts were memory and what was just part of the dream. Or should I say, what was the nightmare.

I doubt anyone would call gunshots and blood pooling on the ground of a darkened alleyway something as sweet sounding as a dream. Nobody would think fondly about their memory of some stranger dying in front of them, even if it was most likely because the man had moved to shield them from the bullets of another man as he fled the scene.

No, such things were not fond memories so much as they were traumatic events that twisted within the nightmare until the shadows that darkened the corners shivered and wailed in ways that shadows can't when awake. Shadows would form where there was nothing to make them, darkening the area around the dying man as strange whispers I couldn't quite make out echoed within my mind.

Part of me wondered if they were whispers the man had said before he died, or if it had been the man who ran off that said them and my brain remembered them as whispers instead of a shout, or maybe if it was simply a memory of something that I had thought or said myself. But the rest of me was too tired of memories filled with death and often far too much blood for me to bother trying to remember something so unimportant.

I woke to the ringing of my phone right as a piece of smooth, dark wood had appeared on the man's chest, rising and falling with his last shallow breath before the shadows in the alley grew still and silent. And cold, everything had gotten so cold for a time.

Even now as I sat up in bed, I could still feel the chill that had once crept through my body, shivers racing down my spine as I had run from the alleyway and down the street until finally collapsing just short of my mom's prized rose bed.

I doubt she would have even believed half of my story that day if not for the wound on my arm and the blood that stained my clothing. Of course, that didn't make things easier when the police showed up at the door the next morning.

Thinking back on it today, that might have been the event that cause me to really begin understanding just what death was, even as just a child not yet into my teens.

Of course, that didn't make it any easier to deal with my boss's voice shouting into my ear as soon as I slid my finger across my phone's screen. But at least it made it possible to remember that, no matter how bad this might seem, I had already dealt with far worse than this in my life. And I would survive, even if it was only to deal with the same kind of thing some other day.

I would survive and I would become stronger for it.