Tiny fragments of shattered glass showered the room, biting into Mich’s face and hands like acid rain. The metal garden chair lay against the far wall of the small suburban unit, upside down, legs in the air like a dead spider.
Mich flung himself inside the broken window. Spears of glass still lodged within the frame tore through his skin. Soft, haunting music coming from somewhere inside.
“Laura! Laura!” His voice was strained, hoarse with fear and pain.
Mich leaped over the fallen stool that sat sideways across the white kitchen slate tiles. He rounded the corner into the darkened kitchen.
“No, no… no… no… no… Laura, no…” All the air from his lungs was sucked out, the pain in his chest ripped it open, gutting him like a fish.
A pair of pale feet dangled, suspended in mid air. A light bluish tinge crept through the veins across them. She was still wearing the pale blue jeans and t-shirt she had on last night. Why did he leave her last night? He knew she hadn’t been right, but she’d promised him. Promised him she was okay. He should never have listened.
Mich clutched at Laura’s legs, pushing upwards in an attempt to release the pressure around her throat. His right arm wrapped tight around her, his left stretched upwards. Fingers grasped for the rope that gripped her skin.
He hooked a foot around the stool step and dragged it towards him, flipping it right side up with his toes. Without letting go of Laura he climbed onto the stool, taking her limp body with him. Her head lolled forwards like a doll as Mich loosened the noose and removed it from around her neck. Without the rope holding her up, her body slid into Mich’s like she was hugging him, but her arms rested lifeless at her sides.
Mich stepped down from the stool still cradling Laura and slumped to the floor. Apart from a ghost like paleness to her skin, she could have been asleep for all Mich knew. Thick fingers of golden blonde hair fell down across her shoulders, pooling in Mich’s lap.
A piercing cry echoed through Mich’s head. The sound terrified him as he looked around for where it came from. After a brief moment, Mich realised the choked scream was his. Together they rocked back and forth for what seemed like an eternity.
****
Laura committed suicide four months ago.
Mich sat on the floor of his Parramatta Park flat like he did most nights. His eyes were heavy and ringed with darkness. He hadn’t been back to Uni since she died. Mich had tried to move, tried to get on with his life but Laura’s death haunted him every waking moment of every single day. The distant jangle of the phone ringing entered his subconscious but he ignored it.
The letter sat open on the carpet in front of him, the white paper a stark contrast to the dirty brown pile. Laura must have tucked the letter into his wallet without him knowing. He hadn’t found it until early the next morning as he got ready to head out to his first exam for the year. Mich’s fingers traced the neat flow of the handwriting as had become his ritual.
Please don’t be angry with me.
The note started. How could he ever be angry with her? All he had wanted was for her to feel safe and loved. Was it not enough?
I just can’t live like this anymore. The voices remind me of every day of what happened. If I hadn’t run away from you that night. But I need it to stop.
Images of that night replayed in his head like a home movie. The fight, her running off. When she hadn’t returned after a couple of hours, Mich had gone out looking for her. Laura had been a pretty tough nut, Mich thought. He certainly wouldn’t want to cross her in a dark alley. She used to take off all the time, to let off steam but always came back.
