Hey everyone! This is for clograbby's contest Lost in the Atmosphere. The picture I based the setting of my story on is attached. The rules are that you must have the setting mean something extremley important to your character. I hope you like the story!
My Missing Half
The smell of blood filled my nose and I covered my mouth, gagging. I knew I shouldn’t have come here after everything that had happened, but as usual, curiosity had gotten the better of me. I swallowed, trying to get rid of the lump in my throat. I knew I had limited time here, but I couldn’t keep myself away. I took a deep breath, and stepped inside.
The room was dark, a dim gray light shining down from the upper corner of the room. I could see the color of the cloudy sky through the slits in the window. A single chair sat in the middle of the worn floor. The room was vacant except for the wooden object. I took another step inside, the door creaking shut behind me. The dust beneath my feet sifted as I made my way farther inside until I stood at the center of the room.
I kept my eyes trained on the floor, my shoulders shuddering as a light breeze wafted in. I had smelled that scent of death in my dreams, which woke me every night in a cold sweat. Every time I thought about what happened, the scent burned my nose, stronger than ever. I wanted to claw my way out of the room, but my need to resolve everything rooted my feet to the ground. The psychiatrists had told me it would pass with time. That the scent was a part of my shock. That it wasn’t real. It sure felt real.
My knees weakened again and I braced myself against the chair, gently sitting down on the worn wooden surface. I disturbed the dust, sending flakes in a cloud around me. It had been so long since I had been in this room, but while I sat here it seemed as though no time had passed at all. I knew though that I had to set everything right before I left. Or at least try my best. Everyone else had no idea what had happened. Only I did.
I straightened, forcing my eyes up to look at the wooden beams above my head. My vision blurred and my head spun as I tried to remember where I was. The rope. The beam. Sarah. No! I wanted to cry out. Enough! I can’t handle these demons anymore. I opened my eyes, finding myself staring at the floor, my head between my knees. My aunt would be here soon, to take me away forever from this cursed place. It was for the best, but I couldn’t leave until I had let this part of me go.
I reached into my pocket, taking out a packet of crumpled pages. My guiltiness was written all over them in invisible ink. I tried to look away, but I had to take responsibility. The first was a letter addressed to me. I skimmed it for the thousandth time, my gut twisting with sadness.
Mel,
I’m sorry to bother you, I know you’re busy, but I had to write for my own sanity if nothing else. Things have been tougher here than usual. With mom gone, and dad drinking his way out of our bank account, I don’t know what to do. I need you. I need you to come home. I don’t know how to deal with this. Just please promise me to come home. I really need you, Mel.
Love,
Sara
My heart pulled inside me, tears falling from my eyes. I was too busy to care after separating myself from this awful place when I had gone off to college. I had never wanted to come back. It had been selfish of me to have never responded to her letters. I was out in the real world while my sister suffered here with problems we could not control. I should have been here to help her. To stop her. The papers slipped from my hands.
A few of the other letters weren’t addressed to me, which was part of my guilt. After her funeral, I had gone through her old diaries and I ripped out all the papers that caused me pain. They had helped me piece together the entire story. His name was John, the one she wrote about the most. She even had a few love letters to him tucked in the inside cover of her books. She really loved him, but as most men did in my sister’s life, he broke a lot more than her heart. Her doctor’s bill was astronomical.
My shoulders slumped down further. I had been seconds too late. I was the first to see her just after it happened. It took the ambulance a full twenty minutes to get here and I could tell she was already gone. Still, I had held her in my arms, in this room, in this very chair until they got here. I held her the whole time, whispering in her ear that everything would be okay even if she couldn’t hear me. I was waiting for her eyes to just pop open and say, “Don’t worry Mel, I’m fine. Get off me.”
It was ironic that it had been this room of all places. It was our secret meeting place when we were little, to get away from the sound of our parents fighting. Here, we told each other fantastical stories about when we would get out of here. In middle school, we would tell each other about the boys we had kissed or terrorized. By high school, we shared our first beer. Such an innocent room that was full of beautiful memories that highlighted our childhood differed sharply from the designs that had brought our futures to a stunning halt. Just thinking about it stung my nose with the scent of death.
I took another deep breath and stood up slowly, placing a newly written piece of paper with the packet I had brought. This was part of my internal penance. I was sure that I would pay long after I was dead in purgatory, if it existed.
Sara,
I’m so sorry about everything. I should have written while you were alive. While I could have saved you. It was my fault, I could have stopped everything from happening just by opening your letters and listening to you. I should have come home. Now I know that being a sister is much more important than everything else. I managed to screw up my one shot big time. Although you were the physical cause in your death, I provided you with the means by severing the one hope you had: your connection to me. I love you more than ever. The purest soul of all. You deserve paradise more than any other being. I’m so sorry. I hope you can forgive me. I will never forgive myself.
Love,
Melanie.
The letter seemed so emotionless as I read it now, but I felt my heart tear inside of me. Tears dripped down my face onto the paper, smudging the ink. I wiped off the salty water and knelt down onto the floor. Although we had buried her with the rest of our deceased family in the church graveyard, I knew she would have rather had her ashes spread here. It was a place of beginnings and endings. I pried a lose board from the floor, revealing a large brown box. It held mementos that Sara and I had saved from childhood. I placed the letters on the top of the box. I unhooked a golden chain from around my neck and opened the heart that hung from the end. Inside was a picture of two identical, smiling blonde girls, their arms wrapped around one another. It was a picture of us when we had just graduated from middle school.
I kissed the locket, placing it in the hole. This was her tribute, where her life was really contained. In this one room. Tears welled up in my eyes as I placed the board back over the hole. A ray of sunlight touched my face and I looked up at the window. When we were little my sister had always said angels were responsible for the sun on a cloudy day. I closed my eyes letting the warmth bathe my face, washing away the awful connotations the room held. Maybe she was watching. The honk of a car brought me out of my reverie. I made my way towards the door, painfully, every step stabbing my heart. She was here; I could feel her presence in the ray of sunlight. I paused in the doorway. Another waft of wind swept through the room, carrying the smell of lavender. Her perfume. She wore it all the time. She would steal it from our mother’s vanity cabinet.
“Forgive me,” I whispered. “Because I love you too much to forgive myself.” With that, I closed the door, my heart heavy and made my way down the steps. I hope she heard me because no one else would understand. Part of me was gone, and just like that fading piece of sunlight, it would be too elusive for me to ever regain.
