Depths of Woe

I take a sip from the glass. The warm liquid envelops my taste-buds as I swill the delicate wine around my mouth. The flavours erupt in a symphony of delight and wonder. I carefully swallow the nectar, and sigh deeply once the flavours subside from my mouth. The warmth penetrates through me; I feel it travel down towards the pit of my stomach, comforting me for the night ahead. Just as I finish the sip, I hear the ring of the restaurant door. I turn to the sound and see my date. She looks better than I remember that day at the store. Her flowing locks of golden blonde dances with the lively atmosphere of the small diner, choreographed solely for the pleasure of my eyes. Her eyes widen as she ascertains her surroundings, revealing the sky dyed colour of her iris. Her lips remain unmoved, however, locked in an eternal strife of misery. She spots me as I wave to her, but there is no sign of a smile in her lips. She hands her coat over to the waiter and limps over to me, my heart thumping with each step she takes.

I arise from my seat. I take her chair in my free hand gracefully and pull it out from the table. Her eyes refuse to meet mine as she whispers, ‘Thank you,’ before taking her seat.

‘That’s okay,’ I sheepishly reply. I clear my throat before continuing, ‘I didn’t expect you to look so good. You’ve put me to shame,’ I joke, as I adjust my tie. My joke goes unheard. Her vision remains fixed solely to the ground. From this close, I notice the colour drained from her face, covered desperately with makeup. Her eyes are raw and her nose red. I refrain from analysing her further, and I slide the menu over towards her, ‘The beef is really good,’ I say, trying my hardest to make her feel comfortable.

‘I don’t eat meat,’ she says, taking her eyes away from the floor and bringing them level with me, ‘How’s the wine?’

‘Good.’

‘Just good?’

I open the bottle and pour her a glass, ‘Really good.’

She unhinges her jaw and finishes the glass in a single go, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Smacking her lips together, she nods and says, ‘That is good. Shiraz?’

‘No, Merlot.’

‘Merlot? My mother used to drink Merlot.’

‘Oh really? Your mother has good taste.’

‘Had.’

‘I’m sorry?’

‘She had good taste,’ she says through gritted teeth, as she grabs the bottle and tops her glass up again. She finishes this glass faster than the last and slams it down on the table.

‘Oh, uh… I’m, uh… I’m sorry for your loss,’ I say awkwardly.

‘No, don’t be sorry, I shouldn’t be talking about it on a date. I told my friends I wasn’t ready to go on a date yet, but they forced me to go out. It’s too soon for me to go out anywhere.’

‘I know the feeling,’ I say, prompting her to raise her eyebrows in scepticism, ‘I’ve not lost anyone, but I was in an accident a couple weeks ago and I’m still shook up about it,’ I sigh, ‘Saying it out loud just makes it sound pathetic, especially compared to your news about your mother.’

‘Yeah,’ she begins, ‘that does sound quite pathetic,’ and for the first time that night, her lips produce a smile, exposing her pearls of purity, ‘What kind of accident?’

‘Car accident.’

‘You were driving?’

‘Yeah. It all happened so fast; I still don’t really know what happened.’

‘You hit someone?’

I finish my glass, ‘I think it was someone; it was so dark that I couldn’t really see,’ I grab the bottle, unscrew it, and top up my glass, ‘I think it was just a stray dog or something.’

‘Weird.’

‘I’m sorry?’

‘Oh, nothing. It’s just weird.’

‘Weird how?’

‘My mother…’

‘What about her?’

‘She was struck by a car a couple weeks ago. She died in hospital because of her injuries. The driver didn’t stop and just left her there to die. She said something about a Red Ford….’

Her words are drowned out as a precarious wave of malevolent angst washes over me, encircling me in its unforgiving streams. The monsoon of anxiety drowns me in its torment, soaking me in grief and woe. I fight for air as the current crashes into my chest, expelling the breath from my lungs. The anguish consumes me from within, strangling me with its deceptive claws. I flail my arms around me, but there is nothing to hold onto; the floodgates have perished, bringing forth nothing but despair. I try and penetrate the surface to replenish the air that I so desperately need, but the anxiety takes hold of my legs, dragging me deeper into its depths. The light I once saw is now devoured by bleak darkness, the bitter shadows reflecting the desperation I feel within me. I am pulled deeper and deeper into the pits; my eyes begin to lose focus as the tsunami swirls around me, threatening to eviscerate my existence. I try to scream, but no sound escapes my mouth; the louder that I scream the more I am lashed by the sharp waters. My eyes roll back as I begin to lose consciousness from suffocation. The world around me decays; I cannot escape this place that I’m dying in. I descend rapidly as I continue to fight towards the surface, but it is no use. Finally, I accept my fate and let my hands drop to my sides. I welcome the notion of my death. The cacophony of crashing waves slowly begins to cease.

‘Hey,’ I hear, forcing me to open my eyes. I blink rapidly and look around quickly. I take a deep breath and feel a moist liquid drip from my forehead down to my chin. I wipe my head with the back of my hand and take more rapid, shallow breaths. I realise I’m still at the restaurant on the date. I glance down and see a full plate of cold food on the table in front of me, ‘Are you okay?’

‘Yeah, I’m fine,’ I lie, as I feel blood rush to my head. I rub my forehead with my index finger and thumb; my forehead is sizzling, ‘What happened?’

‘I was talking to you this whole time, and when I finished my food, I realised you hadn’t actually said anything back to me. I thought you were just a good listener.’

‘I’m sorry,’ I say, rising from my seat. I reach into my pocket and withdraw my wallet, ‘I have to go.’

‘Go? Why?’ She looked stunned.

‘I, uh, forgot I have work tomorrow and it’s getting late,’ I lie again, throwing some cash on the table, ‘This is on me.’

‘But…’ she begins, but I walk away from the table before she can finish the words, ‘Just wait a second!’ I hear her shout as I push myself out of the door.

I run around the back of the building to the car-park, panting with each step I take. The perspiration continues to drench me, stinging my eyes. I find my car, unlock the door and throw it open. I lunge inside, slamming the door behind me. The secretion of sweat is replaced with weeps as I contemplate the severity of my actions, ‘I… I killed someone…’ I gasp. I furiously pound on the steering wheel with my fist, screaming with every hit. My knuckles morph into the colour of wine. Throbbing pain searing through my hand, I wipe my eyes, but the tears continue to fall. My rapid breathing becomes long and heavy breaths. I find the key, insert it into the ignition, and drive away from the restaurant.