A/N: This is the redraft that I did to 'Freckled Skies' to show my teacher. I'll probably take this down later, but for now, I have nothing finished to publish. It's about double the size and I changed a few things, so it's not exactly the same.
(P.S: I changed the names in the one I'm showing to my teacher, so if you see any 'Noah's or 'Alyssa's, that's what it is)
Two hours had ticked by like days or even years had passed. He was still in a state of pure shock, and confusion. Numbness had immobilized his body since he'd broken down and then he had to tell his beautiful daughter the news. The news that her mum had gone, and she wasn't coming back. He remembers vividly, the doctor striding into the room with a sullen look on his face. Somehow he already knew his wife hadn't beaten the odds and was still breathing despite everything stacked against her. It was a gut feeling, but not the good kind. He sat as hour after hour trickled by, and then as the doctor swung open the door, and opened him to the concept of living without her. A concept he didn't like, not at all. All this had occurred whilst her lifeless body lay on a hospital bed, pale faced and emotionless. Her brain had ceased to function and her chest didn't rise or fall consistently. Her lips wouldn't curve upwards into that smile he'd fallen in love with, they would sit in a straight line for the rest of forever.
Charlie's mind wandered to the child they'd had together. A gorgeous baby girl, named Brooklyn. She was just three years old, not old enough to remember, yet not quite young enough to forget everything. There would always be a lingering image of her mother's blonde hair and deep, emerald green eyes. He made a promise to himself that she would never not know her mum, whatever it took.
Now in the car, Charlie was practically left alone to be plagued by his haunting thoughts. Images of her flashing into his mind like bolts of lightning, setting fire to the trees, and then spreading like a wildfire in his mind. Despite his inability to feel most emotion, poorly stifled sobs often shook his body as they silently escaped his mouth. "Why did we have to leave mummy?" Brooklyn innocently questioned, sucking lightly on her thumb and curiosity illuminating her eyes.
"Well, because, she's moved away Brook," he explained weakly, not really trusting his voice to hold out for the muddle of a sentence he managed to string together somehow. Confusion knitted in the toddlers eyebrows and she wrinkled her nose cutely, as her mother had done.
"With the angels?" she asked her father, unsure. He just meekly nodded and gripped the steering wheel so tight his knuckles turned a ghostly shade of white and his breathing became laboured. The small girl nodded her head once, making her light brown pigtails bounce on the top of her head. A small smile spread across her face, shattering what was left of his heart. She looked away from him and stared aimlessly out of the window, her blue eyes drooping slightly.
When the car finally pulled into the driveway, his eyes started welling up again, thinking of all the memories they had together in this house. Wiping under his eyes, he turned to his daughter, who was now peacefully sleeping in her car seat. He switched off the ignition and the car fell almost entirely silent, the only sound being his heavy breaths flooding through the car. His child's lips were rigged upwards into a light grin as she slept and he couldn't help but sadly smile at the sight. She was so oblivious to everything. So oblivious to the evil in the world; the evil that took her mother away from her. "Oh, Brook," Charlie sighed sadly. He dragged his body from the car slamming the door a little loud. He pulled open the side of the car where his daughter was sleeping, she'd stirred at the noise from the car door, but was sleeping peacefully again after a few moments. He gathered her limp body in his arms and lugged himself to the door. He fumbled with the keys and the door for several minutes before it finally opened. Swiftly moving up the stairs, he admired his sleeping child and committed every feature to memory.
Her small button nose, her even breathing and light mumbles. He placed her in her bed, decorated beautiful sea blue colours and dancing mint green sheets around the room. A sob caught in his throat as he glanced at the back of her door where an artist's sketch of the three of them sat, drawn when they were on holiday a year before. He swallowed his sob as best he could, so as not to wake her. However, her eyes fluttered open slowly and she smiled very lightly at her father then opening her mouth to speak. "Hey baby girl," he forced a smile.
"The sky," she said sweetly, mumbling slightly, making no sense at all.
"I'm sorry?" he spoke in response, confusion lacing his tone.
"It's freckled. With the clouds, like mummy was. Sometimes, grey clouds cover up the white, fluffy ones. Like mummy and her makeup, her makeup covered up her freckles. Like freckled skies," her voice was sugar sweet yet raspy and still masked slightly by sleep. "I never liked her makeup," she added after a little thought. Tears welled in his eyes making everything blurry and a sob caught at the back of his throat, preventing breath. He didn't dare tell her that what she was saying made little sense.
"Sweetie, mummy isn't ever coming back," he informed her, several salty tears slipping from his eyes and falling from his already stained cheeks to the mattress.
"39," her lips turned up into a smile lightly as she spoke to her father, who had confusion written all over his features.
"Sorry?" he repeated in response, not knowing what she meant by the number.
"She had 39 freckles." She stated, as though it was obvious. Her grass green eyes twinkled innocently at him. He smiled sadly, more clear, salty droplets falling from his eyes. "She's gone now, she moved away. She went into the sky, to live there. With the angels."
Charlie let out a low, sarcasm laced chuckle and grinned genuinely, "Heaven most certainly gained an angel," he whispered to himself, lightly shaking his head and looking down.
"She said I'll see her again, but until then I have to keep everything that happens locked in my brain and tell it to her when I do," she mumbled, her eyelids becoming heavy and drooping closed. She smiled one last time before she dropped off into the land of sleep, causing dimples to form and a yawn to escape her.
"Good night baby girl," he whispered, kissing her forehead and pulling the blanket up to her chin. "Don't let the bed bugs bite," he sighed, recalling what her mother would tell Brooklyn every night before she slept. He used his hand to brush hair from her eyes and allowed his lips to tug upwards one last time before he left the room.
"Goodnight daddy," Brooklyn muttered, sleep lacing her tone and a yawn on her lips. Smiling, he shut the door to her room and leaned against it, wishing to forget the events of the day entirely and start over as if it was yesterday. He wandered to his room, opening the door and collapsing on his bed. Tears flooded his cheeks and sobs erupted in his throat. Painful, gut-wrenching sobs that shook his entire body as he curled himself around her pillow that still smelt of her; her sweet perfume that smelt deliciously of strawberries. He lay there for an hour, maybe more. He found it funny how easily you can lose track of time when everything hurts more with every breath you take.
Eventually, he ran out of tears to cry. His body stopped shaking from the cries of pent up anger and frustration, and instead he found himself laying alone, silently screaming in pain that radiated from his core. He had lost the one person who was there for him when he needed someone; the one person that no matter what or when was always by his side; the only person who ever inspired him to aspire to be someone better. Now she's gone.
He finally opened my eyes, after a long while of ignoring everything. His eyes darted around the room, searching for any faults, but there wasn't any. Everything was exactly as it was left, untouched and lingering with the presence of her. Her mac was left open with a black screen, the mouse in the exact angle she'd left it in when she'd finished her work this morning. He swallowed back another sob that threatened to leave his lips and blinked back more tears that stung at his eyes. Somehow, he managed to trust his jelly-like legs to carry his trembling body over to the glossy black piano that she'd bought him. It was still as shiny as it was when she'd first bought it for his birthday. The length of time it'd been seemed like forever, though in reality it wasn't nearly as long. His shaking fingers danced along the keys, as welcoming as greeting an old friend. Doubtfully, he opened his mouth to sing.
"Heart beats fast; colours and promises. How to be brave? How can I love when I'm afraid to fall? But watching you stand alone, all of my doubt suddenly goes away somehow... One step closer," he sung, his voice wobbling with every note that left his lips, his vocal chords straining with raw emotion. Pushing all thoughts of anything other than his love for his wife, he continued. "I have died everyday waiting for you. Darling, don't be afraid. I have loved you for a thousand years, I'll love you for a thousand more," he finished, his fingers swiftly moving across the keys and pressing them professionally. He was a dancer and the piano was his stage. Suddenly, a woman's melodic voice flooded through the room, it was so soft and gentle. The exact voice of his wife.
"Time stands still, beauty in all she is. I will be brave. I will not let anything take away what's standing in front of me. Every breath; every hour has come to this," the voice sung from nowhere. His fingers froze as they were, hovering over the keys and turning to face the origin of the sound. Her blonde hair was impeccable as always, flowing off her shoulders and reaching just above her belly button. She was wearing what she wore this morning, his blue hoodie and her plain black leggings.
"M- Meghan?" he questioned, his eyebrows knitted together in pure confusion as he stared at what seemed to be the love of his life staring back at him. Her forest green orbs of eyes that hooked on to his auburn eyes and stayed there, searching for any emotion, other than the perplexity that coated his features like freshly-fallen snow. Softly, she smiled. A grin so painless and carefree, yet a hint of sadness graced her perfect lips. Her eyes darted down for a second then back up to catch his questioning gaze. Flickering his eyes closed, he put two fingers on his temples and clenched his eyes shut. "I'm going insane," he mumbled incoherently, though somehow, she heard.
"Maybe so, but I'm completely real," she grinned, showing her picture-perfect pearly white teeth. He sucked in a deep, shaky breath with his eyes still tightly closed, a tear slipping from beneath his eyelids. Light, feather-like footsteps closed in on him and he felt her gentle touch on his upper-arm, then flinched away from it. "Charlie," her voice came out as a whisper, laced with tears that she wouldn't cry in front of him. She knew she had very limited time with him, she wouldn't cry. "Please look at me." Very slowly, he opened his eyes and gazed up at her, who was lightly smiling back at him, her golden hair sat perfectly on her head like a halo.
"But you can't be," his voice broke mid-sentence. Her heart was breaking to see him hurt like this, and knowing she can't do anything about it.
Arms coiled around his shaking form and a head sat on his shoulder. She still smelt like she always did, her strawberry perfume lingered around the whole house and he'd always complained that it made the house smell like a fruit bowl, jokingly of course, but complaining all the same. Now, he regretted that deeply. "I love your perfume," he whispered finally, as she pulled away. She smirked at him and chuckled her soft, almost melodious chuckle.
"I need you to hear me out," she explained tenderly, placing a hand gingerly on his shoulder. He looked up at her with glossy eyes and silently told her to continue. "You need to move on," she sighed airily, upset stitched on to the smile she wore. His eyes stared at her blankly, showing little to no emotion; giving no thought to the shake of his head. "Charlie, please. Brooklyn she-" Meghan paused as she thought about her daughter, and smiled fondly. "She needs a mother, and - as much as I wished I could be - I can't be her that for her. Char, I'm not going to let you live a loveless life because of a tragedy that nobody could stop. Please, Char Char, promise me you'll try," she pleaded, desperation evident in her grassy green eyes and voice. The whole time, Noah was shaking his head with disapproval.
"No," he stated defiantly, not even daring to look in her eyes. A salty, crystalline tear made its way down her cheek, before dissipating to nothing. No breaths left her, and her heart wasn't beating, a lifeless body, talking and reaching out to him. "I couldn't do that, Meggy, don't even ask me to."
"I'm sorry, but I have to. Please, just agree, I'm not going to be here long. I think you know that. I don't want to spend my last moments with you fighting, Charlie. I need to get back to Paige," she uttered, dragging her bottom lip between her teeth. He shot her a questioning glance, causing her to blush and look down at the ground with a light snicker.
He raised an eyebrow and she giggled the adorable giggle that he'd fallen hopelessly in love with. "She's..." she trailed off, trying to think of words and she smiled lovingly, with eyes so filled with adoration it reminded him of when he'd catch her staring at him, or the way she'd look at Brooklyn, "She's really great, magical, even. You two would get along like a house on fire," she spoke slowly.
"Who is she, Meg?"
"When I..." she trailed off, glancing at him sorrowfully. "-died, I was pregnant. I was going to tell you when I got home, but evidently..." she trailed off again as tears welled in his gorgeous eyes. "I called her Paige. I remember, you loved that name earlier, but we argued, and after a night on the couch you surrendered with Brooklyn," she laughed softly at just the memory, as did he. "Yeah, I can't wait until you meet her, she'll be a lot older then, I'm sure. I'll always tell her about you, always."
"I'll tell Brooklyn so many stories about you and so show her so many pictures she'll be sick and tired of you," he assured, smiling broadly, though his eyes shone with tears at the prospect of her leaving. She wistfully smiled at him and tentatively hugged him. "Do you have to go?" he croaked, and she dejectedly nodded in response. "I'll try," he whispered and she smiled, uttering a quick thank you.
"Whenever you see freckled skies, you'll think of me?" she joked, several tears falling from her eyes, knowing how soon she'd be leaving his presence. He let out a chortle that was so laced with sarcasm and was more cheerless than joyful. It struck her in her motionless heart as she realised. He wasn't broken-hearted, he was broken.
"Always," he vowed, an abundance of tears cascading down hispale cheeks. His eyes were closed for a fraction of a second, and when hiseyelids opened, revealing the room to his eyes, she was gone. All she had beenhad dissipated to nothing and in her place sat a perfect silver chain, on it was two things: her wedding ring, and a small dog tag with 'Freckled Skies' engraved onto the font, and their names in cursive on the back, along with'I'll love you always'. As sobs took control of his body, he turned back to the piano, and shakily started singing exactly where he left off.