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A hurricane, his insides whirled around like a hurricane and yet at the same time they stood still. Staring on as the rain drips down the window, the drops racing one another as if it were the matter of life and death to merge. Watching them become one with one another, forming a bigger unit. Thomas’ eyes watered for the third time, it was difficult for him to stand up. The energy in his arms and legs completely gone, vanished over the course of time. Aged, weathered like the torn walls within his prison. Damage settled in the bones, rusted beyond recovery. Nothing seemed to draw him away, his mind had begun wilting. Vines and weeds held him down, tied to the spot he shared with her. The sun that shone so brightly in the early morning as he woke. The soft warbling birds that came to sit on their windowsill, she changed everything around him. He had lost so many things, things that had become meaningless to him over time so the idea of losing yet another thing hadn’t struck him so strongly. Until he learned of love, the taste of real love. That authentic love born out of the fire in their hearts, Thomas experienced his first heartbeat that day. His heart lay broken, like shards of glass in his hollow chest. The edges wedged in his lungs, the muscles of his hands and his legs. The back of his neck, his brain, everything. It was gone, she was gone and left him nothing but this pain. This anger, self-loathing and broken memories that he could never relive. Thomas had very little, she had been everything he had in his name. Something so unique, completely his own. Just one aspect of this life that he needn’t share with his sister, the shadow that clung to him like the red clay that littered the grounds. He could hear her now, shouting away in frustration. Their home had begun to flood, could it swallow him? Would it ever rise high enough? He had no legacy, nothing to his name, no children. Himself and his bed, empty. That was all he had, the view from his windows that overlooked the wasteland that surrounded him.
The one tree that stood on the other side, he buried her there.
He could see her from his bed, not so clearly whilst it rains but he could still see her tree. She loved that tree, the one good thing about this place. The apple tree, Thomas had been so shocked to find that the fruit was edible. Not poisoned by it’s landscape, it thrived on his land and it bore such sweetness. They loved to sit under it’s shadow on hot summer days, watching the yellowed straw billowing in the breeze as it rolled through. So simple, had the the skill he would’ve painted the image of her. Sat on his coat as he spread it on the ground so that she wouldn’t dirty her lovely dresses, book in her hand. A strand of hair between her fingers, the thought filled Thomas’ chest with so much love. Bursting at the seams, she would laugh at his anecdotes and offer him insight. Witty woman, smart. He smiles, the tears rolling over the bridge of his nose and down his cheeks. Thomas could feel them land on his fingers, wetting the skin. These weeks he had felt just as equally gone, sleepwalking in his own dreams.
‘‘Thomas?’‘
Was his sister aware of how broken he was? How she had destroyed him on the inside? The cause of death now stood within his bedroom, she never dared enter here without his permission. Lucille wouldn’t disrespect him, she said she wouldn’t do anything to hurt him. Lies, all of it. His back turned towards her, he hadn’t talked to her in over two weeks. Thomas wondered if he could simply erase her from his memory, perhaps if he avoided her for long enough. Maybe he’ll come to forget about her, grabbing fistfuls of his wife’s pillow he squeezed it. Thomas refused to let go of it, the smell of her hair still lingered. In his hysteria he had torn the wardrobe apart, draped all of her dresses over the bed. Missing the smell of her so dearly, rolling around in it like a dog in a mudpuddle.
‘‘Thomas, the library is flooding-’‘
He couldn’t stand the sound of her voice, Thomas was quick to sit up. Murderous glare in his eyes as he turned to look at his own flesh and blood, the woman who betrayed him. Betrayed her promises to him, Thomas’ teeth began to ache from the pressure of his bite. Hissing through his clenched jaw, the Lucille he had known all of these years turned from ruthless to timid. Bracing the doorway at the sight of him, Thomas never dared to show her any of it. He sobs.
‘‘Get out!’‘
His sister disappeared from the room, slamming the door shut in fear. For once, he was the one to fear in this house. After so long of being stuck under her thumb, Lucille had never been this afraid before. She deserved it, she deserved so many things. Some nights he swore that he could see her, his wife roaming about the room while he was on the verge of sleep. Thomas swore that he felt her smooth back his hair, heard her giving him the softest of goodbyes. Burying his sorrows in his hands, the burning tears slipping through his fingers as he cries his heart into them. Hoping to catch it all and toss it out the window.