Trembling Voices

Chapter 2

I’m sitting alone in the small, stark white room.

My eyes are worn and tired, not being helped in the slightest by the unusual glow produced by the fluorescent lighting.

My head is pounding, but my mind is blank. All I can allow myself to do is stare at the old linoleum beneath my feet. I can hear the muffled sounds of those in the next room, but I can’t bring myself to focus on any words in particular.

I tug on my sleeves, suddenly getting the chills from what must be a draft in the room, if not my own nervousness.

Hearing the door open, I lift my gaze from the flooring, catching sight of the officer that has just entered the room.

“Mrs. Falk,” he says softly, as if to ensure he won’t offend me. “We’re ready for you.”

I nod stiffly, rising from the uncomfortable chair I had been sitting in. He turns around and starts heading out of the room. I follow him, knowing what is expected of me.

I try to think of something—anything—as I’m being led down the morbid halls, but come up short. The only thoughts passing through my mind recently have been of my surroundings; I’ve only noticed the world around me, unable to delve into the abyss that is my mind.

I want to be able to think of him. I want to know how I feel—or perhaps how Ishouldfeel—but it seems my mind has built up a wall against itself, denying me access to everything besides simple body functions.

The officer pulls to a stop in front of a plain white door. He looks at me, sending me what can only be a pitying look.

Opening the door, he motions for me to enter. I do just this, immediately taking notice of what, or rather who, lies in the center of the room.

Without being able to stop myself, I walk further into the room’s core, towards my husband’s blanketed body.

The officer is now standing in front of me,the only thing separating us is David’s lifeless form.

I see him grasp at the end of the thin white sheet and I feel my heart leap to my throat. The quickening pulse makes me shake, as I first see his dirty blonde hair, and then slowly his smooth, chiseled face.

Water builds in my eyes and for a second I am furious at myself.

Why would I cry for him? Why would I let his death be something so painful for me? All he’s ever done is bring me pain and—

I stop my train of thought, immediately recognizing faults in my line of thinking. As hard as it is for me to remember the times when David cared for me, the times when just seeing him brought a smile to face, those times did exist.

I know why I’m crying. I know why seeing his pale face, every ounce of life drained out of him, makes my heart wrench.

My eyes are closed as I bask in the warmth offered by the golden sun. The sky is a perfect shade of blue, with just enough bright white clouds to provide contrast.

Opening my eyes, I relish in the beauty that surrounds me. On every side of me there are flowers, hundreds and hundreds of colorful blooms, filling the air with a sweet aroma.

At this moment, I don’t think about anything aside from how lucky I am to be here right now.

How lucky I am to be here with him.

As if hearing my thoughts, he chooses this exact moment to move closer to me. Turning my head, I see him lying on his side, next to me. His hand is reached out, as he plays with a rebellious curl that has escaped my ponytail.

His bright sea foam eyes twinkle as he looks at me, and I can’t help the warmth that spreads through me from just being under his gaze.

Tucking the stray hair behind my ear, he gently runs his hand down my cheek, not once breaking eye contact. The simple act brings goose bumps to my skin—something that is only magnified as his hand goes further down, trailing along my neck, then my arm, before he reaches my hand and grasps it.

He’s playing with my fingers now, and I close my eyes again, this time hoping to relish in his comforting touch rather than the heat.

“Elise?” he questions softly, his voice raspy.

“Hmm?” I mumble, not being able to say anything else.

I pull my eyes open, bringing myself to once again look at his piercing eyes. He’s looking down though, staring at our interlocked hands.

“Elise,” he begins again, his voice much smoother this time around. “I-I love you.”

My heart accelerates at the words leaving his mouth. He looks back up at me, and the pure honesty across those sparkling orbs runs chills up my spine.

My mind is reeling, questioning how someone so sweet, smart, and just breathtakingly gorgeous could ever say those words to someone as plain as me.

I notice that a substantial amount of time has passed since the words left his mouth, and in that time, a dejected, hurt expression has formed on his chiseled face.

“I,” I begin, but my voice is hoarse. Clearing my throat, I try again, “I love you too, David.”

Immediately his face lights up, and I see a glimmer of relief cross his eyes.

He moves closer, bringing his face mere inches from mine. Just before our lips are able to touch, he whispers, “I love you Elise Evetts.” Barely finishing the sentence, he captures my lips with his, kissing me with so much force and feeling I don’t know how I didn’t simply pass out.

“Mrs. Falk?”

I turn my head up, meeting the eyes of the aged officer. My face feels cool, and as I bring my hand to my cheek, I notice that it is wet, a result that can only be explained by my apparent crying.

“Hmm?” I question.

“Is this your husband, David Falk?”

I glance down at the form below me, before quickly nodding to the officer. He pulls the blanket back up, once again hiding David from my view.

In silence, we both leave the room.

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