Love Like Cyanide
And In That Moment She Died There In His Arms
I cringed when I heard my name. I couldn't help it. I hated that name with a passion that could set houses on fire. I made a mental note to legally change it when I turned eighteen.
I was too distracted by my inner babble that I didn't process the fact that Derrik's voice was hoarse and broken, like he was struggling to find his voice. "Come in," I said, confused. The door opened and he walked in slowly. "What do you want to talk about?" I asked in a cautious voice.
Instead of answering he sat down on the couch that was placed across from the bed. He looked at me and said slowly, "My only sister, Molly, died when she was nineteen."
I sat frozen, not knowing what to say. Even if I could talk, my voice wouldn't have any sound.
He continued. "She was such a frail thing. Always breaking her bones and bruising easily. But I loved her more than you could even guess." His voice was thick with what I assumed was pain when he continued. "She was so young when she died." His breath caught and he looked down quickly.
I found myself saying in a steady voice, "How did she die?"
He looked at his hands in front of him as he said quietly, "Internal bleeding." He took a deep breath. "All of a sudden all her organs just started to fail. It was the summer so she was home from college for vacation. I was just coming home from work when I sensed something wrong. You could call it a gut feeling. I drove over the speed limit 'til I was home. But it was too late. When I got there she was on the floor, laying in a pool of her own blood." He shuddered at the sickening memory.
"What were her last words?" I asked. In a twisted way, I've always found an interest in what people say on their death bed. The last words they chose to use up the last of their air supply on.
He smiled a tiny smile as he quoted, "'I forgive you...my only brother.'"
I couldn't help but ask, "Why?"
He looked back at me with a more controlled expression. "I'm not a bad person, Cyanide. I've just done a lot of bad things."
"So I've heard," I mumbled to myself.
By now he looked more like himself; more composed. "I just thought I'd let you know. I wouldn't have if I had the choice...but you look so much like her."
My eyes widened. "What?"
"Before Kathryn brought you here my mind was already set. I was close to canceling plans and telling her that I couldn't babysit you while she was on her little trip. But then I saw you. I'm not one to believe in ghosts, but when I caught sight of you, I literally thought you were Molly, raised from the dead." His composure faltered a bit and tears slid down his cheeks. He laughed once and wiped his hand across his face to hide his eyes. "You must think it's pathetic of me, a grown man, to be crying."
"No, of course not," I said automatically.
"Molly died in my arms with a smile on her face. I'll never forget that day. It effected me so deeply. I promised myself after that I'd be a better person."
"When did this happen?"
"Eight years ago," he answered. Ahh, so I was alive when this happened.
There was a long silence in the room, but not an awkward one. I let everything he just told me sink in. I felt great sympathy for Derrik and his sister. The more I was coming to know Derrik as a person the more I thought Kathryn really didn't know him at all.
I was too distracted by my inner babble that I didn't process the fact that Derrik's voice was hoarse and broken, like he was struggling to find his voice. "Come in," I said, confused. The door opened and he walked in slowly. "What do you want to talk about?" I asked in a cautious voice.
Instead of answering he sat down on the couch that was placed across from the bed. He looked at me and said slowly, "My only sister, Molly, died when she was nineteen."
I sat frozen, not knowing what to say. Even if I could talk, my voice wouldn't have any sound.
He continued. "She was such a frail thing. Always breaking her bones and bruising easily. But I loved her more than you could even guess." His voice was thick with what I assumed was pain when he continued. "She was so young when she died." His breath caught and he looked down quickly.
I found myself saying in a steady voice, "How did she die?"
He looked at his hands in front of him as he said quietly, "Internal bleeding." He took a deep breath. "All of a sudden all her organs just started to fail. It was the summer so she was home from college for vacation. I was just coming home from work when I sensed something wrong. You could call it a gut feeling. I drove over the speed limit 'til I was home. But it was too late. When I got there she was on the floor, laying in a pool of her own blood." He shuddered at the sickening memory.
"What were her last words?" I asked. In a twisted way, I've always found an interest in what people say on their death bed. The last words they chose to use up the last of their air supply on.
He smiled a tiny smile as he quoted, "'I forgive you...my only brother.'"
I couldn't help but ask, "Why?"
He looked back at me with a more controlled expression. "I'm not a bad person, Cyanide. I've just done a lot of bad things."
"So I've heard," I mumbled to myself.
By now he looked more like himself; more composed. "I just thought I'd let you know. I wouldn't have if I had the choice...but you look so much like her."
My eyes widened. "What?"
"Before Kathryn brought you here my mind was already set. I was close to canceling plans and telling her that I couldn't babysit you while she was on her little trip. But then I saw you. I'm not one to believe in ghosts, but when I caught sight of you, I literally thought you were Molly, raised from the dead." His composure faltered a bit and tears slid down his cheeks. He laughed once and wiped his hand across his face to hide his eyes. "You must think it's pathetic of me, a grown man, to be crying."
"No, of course not," I said automatically.
"Molly died in my arms with a smile on her face. I'll never forget that day. It effected me so deeply. I promised myself after that I'd be a better person."
"When did this happen?"
"Eight years ago," he answered. Ahh, so I was alive when this happened.
There was a long silence in the room, but not an awkward one. I let everything he just told me sink in. I felt great sympathy for Derrik and his sister. The more I was coming to know Derrik as a person the more I thought Kathryn really didn't know him at all.
♠ ♠ ♠
Next chapter will be happier. Promise.