Ghost of You

30

-Luke-

The golden light seeped through my window causing my eyelashes to flutter open. The room was glowing as if it had been bathed in rich honey. I pulled the white comforter close to my chest to draw in some warmth. My hand instinctively reached over to the other side of the bed. Feelings flooded back to me as my fingertips brushed the bare sheets. She was gone.

A pang of emptiness shook me to the core. This was my reality now. Every morning started the same way. I would find myself reaching over to pull my love into my arms, only to be met with empty sheets. The grief would wash over me like a tidal wave and I would lay there wondering what to do with myself. Yet it was for her that I got out of bed each morning. I knew that that was what she would've wanted. Even knowing what she would've wished for, it was hard for me to keep going. I had lost my muse.

The boys kept trying to get me out of this rut, but it wasn't easy. They'd invite me out with them, and when I rejected their invitations they'd come over to check on me. It felt like a fog had been draped over my world and there wasn't hope that it would clear anytime soon. But still I tried, for her sake I tried to move on.

Today I felt especially lonesome, so I went over to her closet. I took a deep breath in and opened the big oak door. Careful not to disturb anything too much, I sifted through her clothes. My hands made their way to a black hoodie which she had stolen from me. I could just wear one of the ones from my closet, but these were special. I slipped the sweatshirt over my head and onto my body. Her scent still lingered on it, making it feel like her arms were wrapped around me in a warm embrace. I saved these for the days that I felt most alone.

As I reached out to close the closet door, a fallen bundle of fabric on the floor caught my eye. I picked it up and my heart melted a little at the sight. It was the T-shirt she wore the day she ran out into the woods. Memories of her tiny body breathing so heavily rushed back to me. I remembered searching for her desperately as I raced through the trees in the dark. When I spotted the Zeppelin shirt amidst the fallen leaves, I was relieved to have found her. I could see her dazed face as her consciousness waved. I could feel her soft fingertips brush against my cheek as she asked if I was an angel.

If only I had been there to catch her this time around. I bunched up the soft material and brought it to my face as the tears began to stream down like the first drops of a thunder storm. This occurred a lot. I thought it would get better after the first few weeks passed but it never did. I wiped my face and took the shirt back to my bed. I kept it there so at least when I reached for her I would have something to hold onto.

I made my way down to the kitchen and put a pot of coffee to brew. As I waited I stared at the objects on the table that I hadn't dared to move. The book with Kennedy's curvy penmanship adorning it remained open on the table. Next to it sat her white ceramic mug, the once blood red outline of her lips had now faded to what looked like the shadow of something that had once been alive.  Lastly sat the rose. Its petals were no longer pure white like freshly fallen snow. Instead they were withered and browning as if the life was slowly being sucked out of them. The once beautiful flower began to stink and I couldn't help but compare it to the stench of rotting flesh. The irony was disgusting.

I poured myself a mug of the dark substance that kept me feeling at least a little awake. A knock came at the door and I opened it to find Ashton waiting for me. I welcomed him in and offered him a cup of coffee. It was a normal occurrence for the boys to randomly join me for meals. They were worried that I was becoming a hermit. By now I knew each of their tactics. Michael's strategy was distraction. Calum's was humor. Ashton's was advice.

"How's the morning been?" Ashton asked after thanking me for the coffee.

I shrugged, no matter how many times I was asked this question the state of my morning never improved. "Same old same old."

He nodded in understanding. I detected something different in his expression today. He always had a bit of a look of concern when he came to visit me, but today there was something more unsettling about the lines of his face.

"Is something wrong?" I asked inquisitively.

He hesitated, opening his mouth and then closing it again. His fingers tapped nervously on the glass in front of him as he searched for the right words. "I have some news for you mate."

"Well go on." I prodded, feeling uncomfortable with all the suspense.

Ashton's face was drawn into a very serious expression, the lines between his eyebrows becoming deep crevasses.

"They caught Will."

A weight was lifted from my chest. It was refreshing to know that the bastard wouldn't be getting off free after all the damage he did. I was glad that he would no longer be able to terrorize the lives of others or hurt anymore people. I wanted justice. I wanted justice for myself. But most of all I wanted justice for Kennedy.

"That's great news." I said letting the tension go with a sigh of relief. "How long are they locking him up for?" 

Ashton shifted uncomfortably. "That's what I'm here to talk to you about. They want you to testify in court."