My dear late wife Jessica was a catch. She always had this smile that would capture your heart and use it as a brush against the picture of artistic expression that was her. She could cause the dullest place to become a canvas with her enhancing it by a million. A million doves in the sky couldn’t compare to her sheer beauty. The way her voluminous waves brushed up against her soft shoulders which captured the pale moonlight made her look as if she just came out of a vintage Hollywood film. A sinner I became for that innocent succubus. It should be a crime for such a tantalizing stallion to roam free.
A beauty even in death, as her soft brown tufts of hair were stunning against the porcelain bathtub. Her blood a rose colored beauty of soft silk. Her skin like that of a Barbie doll. A soft curl to her lips and her hands arranged in a way that would seem to indicate she knew the way her suppleness would be seen even in the crossing to the after life. Eyes closed. A toaster lay in the waters, smeared with blood.
It had been a few months passing since my late wife’s passing. I decided that I was still young and dating had still been in the cards for me. Albeit, the circumstances had left me in a bit of an emotional wreck. She was my first love and no-one can replace that feeling of longing for someone who has crossed the rainbow bridge.
In between the hookups with random men and woman, I saw it again. A golden bounce to her hair, her hazel eyes gazing undauntingly into mine. Only for a second, I could see a glimpse into my past. The memories that I had shared had undoubtedly ingrained themselves into the back of my skull.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing I just, nothing.”
“Tell me.”
“You just look really familiar, that’s all”
“Is that so.”
We made love, It was ethereal but I could never shake the feeling that there was something off. It must have been me. Father forgive me, this wasn’t infidelity but I swear I could see her watching me through the gazes that we had shared but only for a few glimpses.
I lay on the bed, smoking a cigarette. Her eyes affixed to the screen ahead.
“What was she like?”
“Who-“
“I know I remind you of someone, I just want to know who she was”
“She, was my wife. Late wife.”
“How did she die?”
“Toaster.”
“So….”
“She dropped a toaster on herself in the bathtub.”
“Wow, you must’ve sucked.”
Her words stung. I admit, I wasn’t the greatest husband. In all honesty, I feel like she deserved so much better than me. We both had our issues however. Those summer nights though, I will never forget.
I wanted to look into her eyes again, I wanted to relive those memories again and again. It’s pure agony having to live this hell of an abode all alone. I wanted that and all, I would give up anything. This random stranger in my bed next to me, I couldn’t shake what that gaze had bought from the furthest crevices in my mind to the surface.
“Ok, I have to go now,”
“Wait, can I at least have your number?”
“No.”
Snatching a cigarette from the coffee table, she lit it up just as she left the door. But before leaving she made a very interesting remark.
“Tell her I said hi for me will you?”
But she was dead. I wish I could say it to her though.
Turning her lampshade off, I pulled the covers up and closed my eyes. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her in my own little dark paradise. She was with me picking flowers, the petals dropping one by one onto the pasture green grass below. That soft gazed smile dropping as the dream cut to a vivid nightmare scape. A Beksińskian hell-scape of flesh twisting like vines molding in a spiral pattern to cylindrical towering bases of flesh that screamed in agony as they grazed the peripherals of my vision. Hands outstretched towards me as they barely grazed the tip of my nose before I woke up.
I could feel her gaze even when she wasn’t with me. I could touch the tips of her fingers when the satin lined sheets had escaped from the palm of my hands. Her angelic presence was in the crevices of every place in the room. I know she wanted to tell me something, she really really was there.
It never get’s easier.
At the tavern, sitting on the bar stool lay a woman. Mid thirties sipping a bloody Mary. Adorned with a red skirt, red heels, and a white blouse. Her lipstick was chapped but still retained a deep purple hue.
“Two shots of Kirsch please, put it on my tab.”
“Wow, you’re brave.”
“What’s your name?” I asked, the bartender sliding us both a shot glass of Kirsch.
“Annalise.”
“That’s a delicious name, tell me a little about yourself Annalise.”
“Well, first off I usually don’t drink much but today’s a special occasion.”
“Oh? Indulge me.”
“I finally got approved for home mortgage, I can finally settle in.”
“Oh, that sounds exciting, so…who’s the lucky man? Or lady,”
“Not really looking y’know. I kind of prefer to be alone for now.”
Looking into her eyes I saw it again. That delicate gaze. Memories unscathed themselves from the rubble of my hippocampus. Her smile quickly turned into a a bit of a scowl. A hint of disgust. There was something off again. Flashbacks to those outstretched hands from my nightmare had raced themselves into the forefront of my head.
“What’s wrong?” I asked
“Are you asking me…?”
“No, I just thought you were upset.”
“I should be the one asking you that, one minute you’re asking me if I’m single the next… you’ve got this look of rage on you.”
I hadn’t noticed it before, but my face was red and my eyebrows had furrowed themselves into quite the pit. The corners of my mouth staggered on the sides of my face, downturned. Perhaps the alcohol had relaxed my face a bit too much, or its numbing effect had brought out the anger that my wife’s passing had inflicted on me.
“Excuse me, uhmmmm, can I ask what her name was…?”
I was a little bit confused, but I figure she must have thought that me buying her a shot of Kirsch had worked previously on someone unknown to her. Her sense of intuition and the look on my face must have made it very easy to read my past.
“Her name was Jessica.”
“Oh, Jessica that’s a very nice name. Are you two still a thing or…?”
“She’s my late wife.”
“I’m very sorry to hear that, hey, let this next round be on me.”
We spent the next thirty minutes or so talking and laughing. The sounds of the bar drowning my sense of hearing. In the haze of drunkenness and conversation. I looked into her eyes again and suddenly blacked out.
Opening my eyes in the comforting aura of darkness. I witnessed the pillars of flesh once again spiraling outwards from an ocean of blackness. The same entourage of hands stretching outwards towards me in an orchestrated manner. An uncomfortable wetness clinging to my arms, pulling me closer to the blackened sea. A blackened hand stealing me down to the murkiness of the depths below.
Awakening my eyes, I could feel a hand shaking me to my core.
“Oh thank god. I thought I lost you for a sec.”
“What….what happened?”
“You blacked out drunk silly!”
“Oh no…I’m so sorry.”
“Apologize to yourself, man you did this to yourself. I thought you knew your own tolerance.”
“Anyways, I have to go now. and before I have just one more thing to say.”
“What is it.?”
“Tell her hi for me, will you?”
And with the fling of her purse, she was gone. Vanishing into the night like a midnight shadow, joining back into the reign of pure darkness. She was a beauty that one, too bad I couldn’t enjoy it further.
It felt like I was going insane. Her purity haunted me as I could feel her light piercing through the darkness of the night. Her presence crept like a vine around every corner of the tavern. She was outside this time, I could feel it. Perhaps if I was quick enough, I would be able to catch a whiff of her presence, inviting me into her light. Stepping out into the street, the flashing of the street lights suddenly slowed down to the beat of a heart. My vision fading, my hands trembling and my knees giving way. I collapsed again.
I wake up again, something doesn’t feel familiar about this place however. It was like something out of a grainy 80’s show. This dream scape was black and white, with nothing but the granite buzz of the pavement below. No sidewalk, only a single street light beside me. It seemed artificially generated, no light in my peripheral view and a feel of liminality as the stillness of the air crept into my sinuses.
Then it happened, a line appeared in front of me. A 2D fixture to the artificial backdrop of my view. That line molded itself into a shape, a circle. That circle became a stick figure, than that stick figure crudely drew onto itself a long wavy line that resembled hair.
Then, it formed a face and started smiling at me. It was mocking me. It also just stood there.
Just as it had appeared, it duplicated itself to become 2 stick figures holding hands, smiling at me. Then those 2 figures duplicated themselves to become 4 until I was surrounded on all sides by a ring of stick figures staring uncontrollably at me with their empty gaze.
The ring of stick figures then starting to circle around me, it was closing in on me. The range of distance I had between the ring of stick figures and I was closing considerably. The gap teetering on uncomfortably close. It was then that their faces had started to all morph into my late wife Jessica. It was only for a moment, a flash but then I felt myself being pulled under into the granite. It felt like water though.
I awoke at a hospital. The sounds of beeping machinery grazing the atmosphere of my hearing. The air smelled stale, and my room was dim. It seems I passed out and was picked up by an EMT.
A nurse walks in, my eyes widen. Her nametag indicated that her preferred personal nomenclature was “Jessica.” Oh, Jessica, why did it have to be Jessica.
She even looked liked her, for a second, I thought she was going to ask me what I bought for her birthday.
“Hello, I’m just here to make sure you’re doing all right. You hit your head pretty hard there sir.”
“Oh hah, I guess I did.”
“How are you feeling?”
“Terrible.”
“I see, rate your pain on a scale from one to ten for me please.”
“Bajillion.”
“Bajillion isn’t an answer, I’m going to need you to really try and be honest with me alright.?”
“Ok fine, seven.”
“I see, now I’m going to need you to tell me everything you can remember from last night.”
She stared into my eyes, and this time I saw it all. The room I was in suddenly became a vivid red as I remembered that night. It was like time froze. I was still here in the present, and yet the memories from the past had merged into one moment right now. Everything that happened that night started to play itself out like a stage play in the vicinity of the hospital room.
On the left side of the room, I saw me and Jessica enjoying a bottle of brandy wine while Family Guy was playing. We shared a couple of laughs, everything was going fine. That was all I could remember from that night. This time, however, when I stared deeper into the nurse’s eyes I saw it. The toaster. It appeared like a mirage in the corner of the hospital room. On closer inspection, I saw something that I couldn’t believe at first. My cherry Brandy wine stained finger prints grasping for the toaster, in the middle of the room, Jessica lay peacefully in the bathtub. Upon my realization, the horror starts to set in my face.
“Excuse me sir, can you tell me what you remember?”
“I, I killed her with a toaster.”
A moment of silence passes by between us as a look of confusion is carefully placed on her face.
“No, you ran her over while you were drunk driving.”