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by Eva sutherland 5 months ago in Short Story
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By Eva sutherland


By E. Sutherland

She was so beautiful. She was gorgeous, magnificent, wonderful, alluring, stunning. No words could describe her, with her sharp jawline and piercing green eyes. She walked with power with statice, with virtue. I felt empowered in her mere presence. She had long shiny black hair that went all the way down to her waist. She had long eyelashes and a light dusting of freckles on the bridge of her nose. She always filled me with sincerity, with warmth with certainty. She mesmerised everyone she met all the way up till the very end.

To My Dearest Ava

East Melbourne Nov. 3rd

I seem to find myself writing about you a lot so long after your passing. I feel I am losing myself without your presence, or perhaps I was lost to begin with. Maybe that is why you are gone. Maybe that is why I feel I have been dying every second since your passing. I find myself feeling your presence. I hear your black Casadei Blades walk down the halls, your breathing next to me as I sleep and your classical music playing in the background while I hear your long nails tap on the piano keys. Sometimes I cannot even remember you are gone. But as hurtful as this feels to put pen to paper, I must confess, I do not imagine you as you once were. A darkness lingers in your eyes. Your figure is thin and skeletal. Your stare appears a glare from the horror that consumes me, and your eyes that were once a beautiful emerald green now seem hollow and dry. I see this same darkness every time I look in the mirror. I am sorry, but I do not wish to dwell.

Kind regards

The one you once loved

East Melbourne Oct. 20th, 5:00pm

I feel my temperature rise and my cheeks burn.

My heart pounds.

I clench my jaw, and my muscles tense.

My hand shakes uncontrollably as I bash on the door. The dogs are baying, and the howling wind blows my hair. I hear her walk to the door. She smiles as she sees me. I look her up and down, her smile slowly disappearing. I stare for a second. “Are you going to invite me in?”

“What are you doing here?”

“Why do you always ask me stupid questions?” I push past her and stomp down the hallway. I feel myself heating up again and remove my coat. “Do you wanna tell me where you were last night?” she looks at me confused. “If you’re here to pick another fight, you can just leave” she gestures to the door. She starts to sweat and takes a deep breath. “Do you think you're better than me or something?” I utter, my nostrils flare, and I clench my fists. “I will not tolerate this insanity.”

“So you think I’m insane” I hiss. “You know tha-”

“How can the person I love think so poorly of me” I start to get agitated and loosen my collar. “Why don’t you love me” I remain expressionless. “I don’t have time to deal with your insecurities anymore or your manipulation” we stand in silence for a moment until she starts to yell. I fiddle with my fingers and feel my mouth dry up. My throat thickens, and my voice cracks as I attempt to talk. She walks closer, still screaming. I feel her hands grasp my shoulders. We lock eyes for a second before she pushes me away.

I snap.

My mind goes dark. I blink as my eyes adjust. She gives me a cold stare. I grasp the gun in my jean pocket and clock it slowly. “What the hell was that” She demands. I see her screaming but can’t hear a single word she says. She steps back, and I take a deep breath. I feel a sudden sensation on my skin. A chill goes down my spine. I try to release my grip on the gun. The door flys open, and the windows slam. I can feel the wind blowing around me and the thunder clasping as though right by my ear. I start to lose a hold on what is real and what is not. The room spins. Sick and nauseous, I begin to hyperventilate. She gasps. The gun held tightly in my hand is now pressed against her stomach. She quivers, and tears trickle down her cheeks. “I don’t understand”, She stammers, her voice cutting itself out as she chokes on her own breath. “You are supposed to love me” She yells, her voice haunted by fear. “I do love you bu-” I hesitate startled by the look in her eyes. I grimace, looking down as she wipes the tears from her face. Her tears brought me pleasure and pain. My heart warms but my eyes water. Tears blur my eyes, and my hands sweat. I feel her silence, waiting for my next words. She gasps as a bullet penetrates her stomach. She reaches for my face as she falls to the ground screaming in harrowing pain. I lift her chin, so our eyes meet. I curse. “We were never meant to be”.

East Melbourne Oct. 20th, 9:00pm

A cool breeze washes past my face. Dark clouds cover the stars, and cars race past, splashing water into my boots. I jump at every roaring engine. My heartbeat quickens, and my eyes widen. I rub my face and blood, stains my cheeks. I slowly release the gun clutched in my hand, and it falls as though a feather in the wind. Footsteps approach me, my back faces them, and I hesitate. They are soft and unheard, seeming to blow away in the wind. My mind clouds and blood drips from my fingertips. Heart pounding and ears ringing, I can see my breath in the cold air. My eyes blur, and I see people fade from my vision. Only to reappear in a state of near terror. She walks towards me, the living embodiment of the person I once loved, with eyes as sunken as skeletons and skin as pale as death. Her shirt remains stained in the place I once pressed my gun. I run and run and run, but everywhere I turn, I see her with blood drowning her clothes and revenge scaring her face. Her eyes stare into my soul like they once did, but such eyes that used to fill me with love and happiness only show me guilt and death. Her teeth are as white as pearls but as sharp as daggers. She calls my name over and over, echoing in my head. “No, no no, Ava, no”, I scream and scream. Dirt still covers her hair and skin, her knuckles are bruised, and her nails are long and sharp. She reaches for my face and scratches my cheek as I turn away. My skin burns and my eyes are wet with tears. I cannot bear to look at what has become of her, what I have done to her. I tremble and whimper, screaming on the inside. An indignant roar, a savage scream, but all heard only by my imagination.

East Melbourne Oct. 21th, 1:00am

I run my hand down a cold stone wall, my ears scream, chains shackle, glass shatters and the wind pounds on the walls. The sun is weak, showing only darkness, and the air is damp and cold. The wind savagely whips at my hair. I trace the stone with my fingers touching every crack and groove across the course wall. I start to scream but can’t hear a single sound escape my lips. Either my hearing has been impaired, or I have lost my voice altogether. Dark shadows surround me with no light to create them. Voices start to scream and shout, but there is not a single person in sight. The concrete falls beneath my feet, engulfing me in a dark void. I attempt to move forward but am frozen in place. I start to sweat and shiver uncontrollably. I am seen as distressed and haunted like the eyes of a decaying beast. I fall and run and scream but am pulled right back to the ground. I was quaking in my boots and could not help from startling at the pounding wind. The inevitability of my confinement, a prison known only to my mind. I have been pulled from my current state of equilibrium, for I am the one escaping a prison invisible to others.

East Melbourne Oct. 27th, 10:00pm

I sit on a hard cold bed in the middle of a rundown hotel. I slam the shades shut and lock the door. I place one foot in front of the other, slowly pacing around the room.

“Stop thinking about her.”

“She’s not here.”

“She won’t find you”

“She’s gone” A tear escapes my eye and hot salty water soaks my cheeks. I gasp as a shadow moves behind the blinds. I cup my face and breath in and out. I feel a chill pass me. “She’s not here.”

“She won’t find you”

“She’s gone”, I repeat once more.

“She’s gone, gone forever.”

I see her once again, in my dreams and my nightmares. She appears all around me, consuming me, haunting me. I smell her perfume of sweet lavender, and she touches my face. I feel her warm breath on my skin. She’s here. My heart beats faster and faster. Her hand caresses my arm. A touch that was always warm and gentle but now serves as a reminder of what I long for. My limbs stiffen, and my stomach turns. She sits next to me, her skin is flushed, and her face is inches from mine. I stare into her eyes and feel butterflies in my stomach. Her skin starts to peel, and her hair goes dry, her cheeks turn dull, and her eyes go black like that of a dead fish. She screeches. I fall back. I try to catch my balance, I reach for her, but as I touch her cold dead skin, she disintegrates in my hand. A gloom overtakes me. My eyes are prickling with tears, and I cry a low moan. With every sob, I let out a soft whimper. A pining melancholy, a plaintive cry, she’s not there anymore. Ava.

West Richmond train station Feb. 17th

Trains pass, and I stand surrounded by noise. I step off the platform entering through the sliding doors. I stand by a slim figure. She looks up at me through her long eyelashes. Her heels click on the floor as she steps closer to me. She parts her lips slightly. I close my eyes for a second and take a deep breath inhaling her sweet perfume. She grins, and we both giggle. I follow her eyes as she glances over her shoulder. We hold eye contact for a second. My cheeks flush red, and she licks her lips. She stands slightly below me, but her presence demands demeanour. I shift my weight, tilting my head backwards slightly. She smiles again, speaking in a crisp eloquence, “So do I know you?”

“I don’t believe so” we stand in silence for a moment. My heart flutters and I clear my throat. “But I would like to know you”. She giggles, pulling her hand out in gesture. “Hi, I’m Ava.”

To My Dearest Ava

East Melbourne Nov. 5th

I think about you every second of every day. The paleness of your skin and the look of betrayal on your face that haunts my mind. I remember the taste of your blood on my lips, how it tasted of power and vengeance, and I remember the burning sensation of your touch when you stroked my face and touched my lips. When you linked my hand with yours and when you reached for my face as you fell to the ground in agonising pain. I remember the power I felt with you at my mercy. I had such a strong desire to be in control. It seems I will never be rid of you, even after I pulled that trigger. Maybe this is my punishment if I should indeed deserve one. Or maybe this is my mind telling me to come to you, to join you, to finally push past that wall and be with you for eternity. But do not fret when I see your sunken eyes and dead skin in my dreams.

I am once again reminded.

Reminded that you are no longer with me

No longer there

No longer will you stroke my face or touch my lips,

Stare longingly into my eyes or exhale your warm breath on my skin

No longer will I smell your sweet fragrance or touch your pale skin

I will never again get to see you fall at my power and grow weak with my words, You will now forever lord over me.

But I will no longer see your eyes, oh those eyes, the last thing I saw of you, saw of you before you left me

Left me forever.

Kind regards

The one who will always love you

Goodbye Ava.

The end

Short Story

About the author

Eva sutherland

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