Backstabber [#Wattys2015]

The Beginning of the End

The beginning of the End

Tom~

There was only one time I watched you die.

Watched isn’t quite the right word – heard is more the truth. It was dark and I could hear your laboured breathing getting shallower and shallower until it was just a soft whisper. And then nothing.

Or maybe I had gone before you.

I will never know.

Whilst you reincarnated into the beautiful young girl that you are now, I remained stuck. Trapped. I must admit, it took me a while to find you – seventy five years to be exact. But your features were unmistakable, and it was worth it.

You have the same long, silky hair that I remember slipping my fingers through. The same soft lips and large blue eyes.

The same beauty.

And now you make me watch this.

I should be happy really; - after all, this could bring you closer to me.

But I’m not. I need you to wake up.

Please wake up.

              

                                                                                      ***

Lola-

The most important memories are whizzing through my head. The ones of you and us before we were both killed.

I remember who I was; who I used to be. I had loving parents and a small, younger brother who’d survived the war. It breaks my heart to think of his large green eyes staring up at mine just how they used to. Like I said, he survived, but I don’t know what’s become of him now. Nor of my parents.

I loved them all so much…

I’m so sorry, Tom.

I’m sorry that I’m doing this, but it’s for the best.

This way it’s a win-win situation.

You’ll see...

                                                                                       ***

It’s sunny.

The clouds are breezing past the sun, momentarily creating shadows across the beautiful gardens.

The weather doesn’t reflect my feelings at all.  If it did, it would be stormy with torrential rain.

And there would be a hurricane.

‘Margaret, stop pulling on your sleeves.’ My ex-husband looks down at me from the corner of his eye. It’s sad how there used to be love in his gaze whenever he looked at me. But now there’s nothing.

I’m met with a blank stare.

‘Sorry.’ I sound weak, even to myself. This is not who I usually am - I’m usually strong, determined. But not now. Not since… I swallow down a sob.

My daughter…. She…

…I can’t even say it.

I can’t even say it.

‘Oh for goodness sake, Margaret - pull yourself together!’ He’s nearly yelling at me.

I realise that I’m wailing. But it means nothing to me.