They Say...
Chapter thirteen
They say your life flashes before your eyes when you’re about to die.
He left in two swift kisses, one on each cheek, and a whisper of “I’ll see you again soon, I promise”. The last moment I can treasure of him, except for the distant memory of a door slam. And he was gone.
The worst part of it? The waiting, the not knowing about anything that is going on. Would it have all started already?
The warm heat radiating from the bundle in my arms is not enough to comfort me now, as much as it usually would have reassured me that everything would be okay. On those nights I would hold him, watch him sleep, the fluttering breaths escaping his chest circle round the room and they would remind me that his daddy would return, that he will come back. But not now. Not any more. Because this night is different. Tonight there is a true enemy to fight against, to resist.
It’s the not knowing that causes the pain.
Waiting…
Waiting…
Waiting…
***
“You’ll look after Teddy, won’t you?”
Her eyes widen with alarm and apprehension.
“Why? What are you doing?” she asks me
“I’m fighting, I want to resist. I want to help. I need to know.”
“But you can’t! Your son needs you as well!”
“I’ll be back, I promise. Just take care of him while I’m gone.”
My throat constricts, because it’s a promise I know I may not be able to keep. A solitary tear runs down the left side of my face, and I turn away from her, because I can’t bear to look into her eyes, to say a proper goodbye.
“I love you.”
I hand over my son to my mother, into her waiting arms, to the ones that can provide him with the same protection as a mother. He laughs, cutting through the tense silence of fear.
I turn to leave, and close the door on my remaining family.
***
He was fighting Dolohov…haven’t seen him since…
The words echoed around my head, bouncing of the reflecting walls of my skull. It’s wasn’t the reassurance that he would be okay that I held, but what he was doing, where he could be, and the possibilities of the outcome.
He was fighting…naturally.
Fighting Dolohov…Dolohov was good, skilled in the darkest arts and a fierce competitor.
Haven’t seen him since…why not? Had he run back into the fray? Was the fight still going on? Or was he, could he be…?
No.
“No, no, no, no, no!”
I open the door and run towards him.
It’s not true, it’s an illusion, it’s not true, it hasn’t happened…
Frantic footfalls echo off the cold hard stone covering the walls and floor, until I reach him and fall, the pain in my knees from the impact barely noticeable compared to the tearing beat inside my chest as my heart tries to break free from my body.
His hand lies across his chest, the other at his side. His eyes are invisible, obscured by a sweep of prematurely greying hair across them. And somehow, in this state, he seems more perfect, more immaculately kept than when animated, so surreal it seems like a painting or a movie still rather than real life.
Perfect heartbreak.
Perfect tragedy.
Perfect loss.
My head is spinning. I’m lost. Lost and need to be found. Someone, anyone, come and find me. Get me away from here.
Not anyone. Not you.
“The war is over. Your side was never strong. You let your emotions win over you. Love? What good is that? Pain? That’s for the weak, for the helpless. Ambition and power is what you need. And you could never have that. You are no part of my family. You never have been. I feel nothing towards you.”
And she laughs.
In that moment, when the vicious peals bounce endlessly off the walls, it dawns on me what is going to happen.
I don’t fight back.
Everything tells me to, but I don’t.
They say your life flashes before your eyes when you’re about to die.
They say your life flashes before your eyes when you’re about to.
They say your life flashes before your eyes when you’re about.
They say your life flashes before your eyes when you’re.
They say your life flashes before your eyes when.
They say your life flashes before your eyes.
They say your life flashes before your.
They say your life flashes before.
They say your life flashes.
They say your life.
They say your.
They say...
He left in two swift kisses, one on each cheek, and a whisper of “I’ll see you again soon, I promise”. The last moment I can treasure of him, except for the distant memory of a door slam. And he was gone.
The worst part of it? The waiting, the not knowing about anything that is going on. Would it have all started already?
The warm heat radiating from the bundle in my arms is not enough to comfort me now, as much as it usually would have reassured me that everything would be okay. On those nights I would hold him, watch him sleep, the fluttering breaths escaping his chest circle round the room and they would remind me that his daddy would return, that he will come back. But not now. Not any more. Because this night is different. Tonight there is a true enemy to fight against, to resist.
It’s the not knowing that causes the pain.
Waiting…
Waiting…
Waiting…
***
“You’ll look after Teddy, won’t you?”
Her eyes widen with alarm and apprehension.
“Why? What are you doing?” she asks me
“I’m fighting, I want to resist. I want to help. I need to know.”
“But you can’t! Your son needs you as well!”
“I’ll be back, I promise. Just take care of him while I’m gone.”
My throat constricts, because it’s a promise I know I may not be able to keep. A solitary tear runs down the left side of my face, and I turn away from her, because I can’t bear to look into her eyes, to say a proper goodbye.
“I love you.”
I hand over my son to my mother, into her waiting arms, to the ones that can provide him with the same protection as a mother. He laughs, cutting through the tense silence of fear.
I turn to leave, and close the door on my remaining family.
***
He was fighting Dolohov…haven’t seen him since…
The words echoed around my head, bouncing of the reflecting walls of my skull. It’s wasn’t the reassurance that he would be okay that I held, but what he was doing, where he could be, and the possibilities of the outcome.
He was fighting…naturally.
Fighting Dolohov…Dolohov was good, skilled in the darkest arts and a fierce competitor.
Haven’t seen him since…why not? Had he run back into the fray? Was the fight still going on? Or was he, could he be…?
No.
“No, no, no, no, no!”
I open the door and run towards him.
It’s not true, it’s an illusion, it’s not true, it hasn’t happened…
Frantic footfalls echo off the cold hard stone covering the walls and floor, until I reach him and fall, the pain in my knees from the impact barely noticeable compared to the tearing beat inside my chest as my heart tries to break free from my body.
His hand lies across his chest, the other at his side. His eyes are invisible, obscured by a sweep of prematurely greying hair across them. And somehow, in this state, he seems more perfect, more immaculately kept than when animated, so surreal it seems like a painting or a movie still rather than real life.
Perfect heartbreak.
Perfect tragedy.
Perfect loss.
My head is spinning. I’m lost. Lost and need to be found. Someone, anyone, come and find me. Get me away from here.
Not anyone. Not you.
“The war is over. Your side was never strong. You let your emotions win over you. Love? What good is that? Pain? That’s for the weak, for the helpless. Ambition and power is what you need. And you could never have that. You are no part of my family. You never have been. I feel nothing towards you.”
And she laughs.
In that moment, when the vicious peals bounce endlessly off the walls, it dawns on me what is going to happen.
I don’t fight back.
Everything tells me to, but I don’t.
They say your life flashes before your eyes when you’re about to die.
They say your life flashes before your eyes when you’re about to.
They say your life flashes before your eyes when you’re about.
They say your life flashes before your eyes when you’re.
They say your life flashes before your eyes when.
They say your life flashes before your eyes.
They say your life flashes before your.
They say your life flashes before.
They say your life flashes.
They say your life.
They say your.
They say...