Graceless

Douze

-EDITED 19/10/15-14/05/16

XII

                  

A week ago...

"If I ever try it again I'd probably jump," my heart stuttered at his words and my throat tightened.

"Jump?" I forced myself to sound as unaffected as possible.

"Yeah," his gaze never left mine nor did it betray anything.

We were at the coffee shop again, where I told him the beginning. I wasn't done telling him my story and he wanted to end his. My breath hiked from the prospective anxiety attacks. I tried to keep my demeanour as calm as possible.

"Off of the waterfall," I didn't even need him to be specific, I already knew.

There was only one waterfall in this area. It was so wild they decided to just call it 'The Waterfall'.

I knew just how wild it was, I thought about jumping there when I first moved here and found out about it. I calculated everything, I'd die as soon as I hit the surface of the water; the bottom was coated with miles of boulders and pointed rocks. A shiver ran through my spine as I tried to imagine him impaled with a pool of crimson forming around his rock but his cold grey eyes were the only thing I could conjure up.

His haunting eyes were settled on me, taking me in entirely. His eyes never shifted when mine met them instead, his eyebrows drew together and he began to bite his lip in concentration. I used to be uncomfortable in situations like this,being looked at openly, but I grew accustomed to it. My heart fumbled a bit when his lips parted, I looked down at my fingers—stretched out on the white table cloth in the middle busy coffee shop.

•

A cold burst of wind bit at my cheeks and I pulled my hoodie strings tighter, quickening my pace. It was late and the streets were empty save for a few people strolling and one or two cars driving by. I never really felt safe in the dark. Especially when I was alone. My phone began to vibrate against my thigh finally capturing my attention.

"Hello, is this a Miss Delacroix?" A stoic female voice sounded through my phone the minute I answered it.

"Yes," I answered carefully as I walked through the crowd on the zebra crossing, "This is she, and may I ask who's speaking."

"Grace," the voice melted into a puddle of regret, "This is Aunt Mildred."

I stopped dead in my tracks as soon as my feet hit the pavement again; I thought I heard someone swearing at me but I didn't.

"Aunt Mil?" I whispered vulnerably and my eyes began to burn and for a second I forgot where I was and where I was going.

•

The woollen black sweater Aunt Mildred knitted me itched terribly but I ignored it. The only thing I could focus on was the open casket in the distance.

The Cathedral walls seemed to be closing in on me the longer I stood still. An encouraging hand was pressing on my back and I blinked slowly. You can do this Grace... you have to do this. I bit my lip with my eyes closed, fighting back my tears. Aunt Mildred urged me into the church and everything that happened in the past five months seemed to fade away swiftly. My heart beat grew rapid as I walked deeper down the aisle towards the mohagonny coffin. My throat seemed to clasp shut again and I could hardly breathe.