Coming Full Circle

I feel the rain splatter against my face in the opening in the woods. I want this to be secluded, where no one will be able to find me, at least not immediately anyways. This seems like the perfect place.

It's storming, the sky full of clouds, blocking out the sun though it is nowhere near nightfall. I take one last look at the dark greens of the pine needles and the rich browns of the tree trunks. If all goes as planned, it'll be the last thing I see. Though some might find it dark and somewhat depressing, I think the scenery is rather beautiful. The rain is essential, seeming to match the immense emotion I am drowning in.

I close my yes, trying not to picture her face in my mind. It has haunted me ever since that dreadful day, seemingly so long ago. But the image still comes; her flowing chocolate hair, her soothing green eyes, her soft voice whispering in my ear. With my eyes shut off to the world, I can still feel her with me, as if she'd never gone in the first place. But the reality is that she is, in fact, gone--taken away from me on a night much like this one, by the cruel, snapping jaws of death.

I sigh, shaking my head to rid my thoughts of her. It brings too much heartache, and yet I never want to look at anything but her. She was an angel, perfect in her imperfections, and I am longing for her. Longing for her enough to come to this place on this night to go through with this plan.

I bring my hand up to my head, the muscles of my arm rippling from the extra weight gripped between my fingers. Without opening my eyes, I press the smooth, cold barrel against my temple. My hand begins to shake, and the rain begins to pour down harder. I can hear thunder in the distance and, even with my eyes closed, can see the white flashes against the darkness of my mind as the lightning strikes. Taking one last breath, I grip the trigger harder, my finger threatening to slip.

Rewind. One week, two weeks...a month. Back to when things made sense, and everything was the way it was supposed to be. Back to when she was still with me. My darling Kate, with her beautiful smile and a twinkle always in her innocent eyes.

It was a rainy night, the road slick with water as the heavens poured down. We were coming back from dinner, celebrating our two year anniversary, and the wipers were on high, rubbing the water off the windscreen. Our hands were linked together over the center console of the car, our fingers interlocking perfectly. It was the little things like these that made me realize that she was meant for me, which was why that night was such a crucial one. I glanced over at Kate, taking my eyes from the road, and she turned to me.

"What?" she asked innocently.

"Did you enjoy yourself tonight?" I queried, looking at the road momentarily before facing Kate again, her smile growing.

"Yes, I did, Thom. But I think I'll have more fun once I get you up to our room," she spoke, a sweetness coating her voice but a sinister shine in her eyes. I felt her hand squeeze mine once and smiled back at her, looking toward the road before us.

I thought about the box in my pants pocket, knowing that whatever it was she had on her mind was going to have to wait, if for just awhile more. The mere thought about what I was going to do once we arrived home brought a slow smile once again to my face.

We were almost home, the intersection that was just five blocks from it coming up as I drove. I had no idea of what was about to happen, but if I could have changed it, I would. Glancing over to Kate once more as we reached the intersection, I saw the blinding headlights. The next thing I knew, my hand was being ripped from my love's, my body slamming into the door as the car spun out of control.

What happened next was like a tumultuous whirlwind; the screeching of metal, the shattering of glass, and the startled cry from beside me. After what seemed like minutes, the car stopped. Everything was silent, save for the pattering of the rain on the windshield. My eyes were closed, a searing pain swimming in my head. I could feel a cool breeze lazily brushing against my cheek.

I slowly opened my eyes, coming face to face with the steering wheel, the airbag not deployed from the impact. My first coherent thought ran straight to Kate and, despite the splitting pain in my head, I turned to her quickly.

"Kate," I said, my voice coming out quieter than I planned. She was sat in the seat, crunched between the console between us and the door. Her head was hung limp, her body slouched forward. The seat belt was the only thing keeping her upright, I presumed. The window to her door was smashed in, glass littering the flesh on her right side, from what I could make out.

"Kate," I called out again, panic seizing my body as I reached my hand out to her shoulder, shaking her gently. Her head rocked to the side, lying at a funny angle from her neck. There was a trail of blood coming down the side of her head from the top of her face; there was a gash wound right at the hairline. The pit of my stomach dropped as I swallowed hard.

I came to my senses and quickly unbuckled myself. I couldn't tell if I had any broken bones, but that wasn't important. What was important at that moment was getting Kate out of the car and seeing if she was alright. Thinking back on it now, I knew, even then, that my futile attempts at saving her were pointless. I could feel it in my gut that it was over, I just didn't want to believe it.

My door was jammed shut but after a few forceful kicks, I was able to get out. I dug in my pocket for my phone, instantly dialing the emergency number programmed into most children's heads. The call was rushed; I had no idea how the man on the line could even understand a single word I said. After that it seemed like forever before the ambulance arrived. I had tried to get the door on Kate's side open, but it was crunched tightly together with the rest of the car from the accident.

It was then, after giving up, that I noticed the other car--the one that hit us. It was only a few yards away from me and as I neared it, I could hear incoherent mumbling and moaning emitting from the driver. I wanted to rip his body from the car and show him what he had done, but the sound of sirens and the nearing ambulance drew my attention back to Kate's motionless body, lying in the car like an abandoned rag doll.

Doing their jobs, the paramedics quickly exited the ambulance, rushing to the car as I stood there and watched without a sound, slowly becoming drenched in rain as it continued to fall all around. I observed them from my position as they crawled to Kate from the driver's side, knowing just by looking that her door wouldn't open. I forced my feet to move, carrying me back to Kate as a policeman approached the other car.

I was within earshot of the paramedics. They weren't doing anything in an attempt to get Kate's body from the car, and I was confused. That was, until I heard three little words that changed everything.

"She's already gone," one of them said. I already knew in my heart even before the medics arrived that she was gone, but hearing the words from someone else made it seem all the more real.

Without a moment's hesitation, Kate's body was being pulled from the car, her limbs hanging with dead weight. She was placed in a black body bag on the wet, tarred road, and I caught one last look at her beautiful face, smeared with blood, before the zipper was pulled up.

The last thing I cared to remember from that stormy night was turning to see the driver of the other car with his hands behind his back, an officer cuffing them together. His eyes met mine, but I could not make out the emotions I found in them. I'm sure he could see the pure hatred I felt toward him just by looking at me. And then he was carted away, thrown into the back of the police car, and I never saw him again. Not that I would have wanted to anyways. He took away the one thing that mattered more than anything else in the world to me, and for that, he could never be forgiven.

The depression I slipped into following that night was painful enough to rival the actual events of that night. I had gotten away from the accident with mere scratches on my arms and a bruised kneecap. But Kate...she received the full blow. And I regretted that. If I could have changed anything about that night, I would have made her drive. I'd have rather given up my life so that she could live. It would have been better than the torment I went through for a solid month.

I'd think of nothing but her during the day and would pray relentlessly for sleep to consume me, only to find that she haunted my dreams. I'd wake up and see her lying next to me, peacefully asleep, but it was never real. Just an illusion before my eyes that my head made up to somehow ease the pain. But it didn't help; if anything, it just made it all worse. It was as if I were teasing myself, showing her to me, knowing I could never have her back. And that pain and suffering slowly began to eat away at me until finally, I had decided enough was enough - it was time to end it.

So I dragged myself from the bed on that overcast day and peered under it at the metal safe box. I knew full well what laid inside of it, and it was the very thing I was searching for. I pulled out the safe, unlocked it, and came face to face with my savior. A shiny silver pistol, with my name written all over it.

Wiping the trails of tears from my cheeks, I reached down and picked the gun up. It was heavy and smooth beneath my fingers and gave me a feeling of reassurance, that once everything was over it would all be okay. I would be okay, Kate would be okay. All of it. And that was all the reassurance I needed to get the job done. And it would be done.

I left the house, noticing the blinking number on the answering machine in the kitchen on the way out. I had neglected to answer the phone or return any calls; I didn't feel it was necessary. There was no one I wanted to talk to, except for Kate, and that wasn't going to happen. So I let it be and let everyone else carry on with their daily lives, letting me live out my own to the very last day. This very last day.

I marched through the back yard, out to the farthest reaches of my property, and then even further past the line of trees. It started raining, the clouds quickly closing in over top of me. Almost as if nature knew what was about to take place. But I kept going. I was searching for that place; the tree-less open patch of land right in the middle of the forest. It was our spot--Kate's and mine. And that was how I ended up here, all alone, with naught but a pistol pressed against my head.

The thunder crashes around me once more, and I jump, startled from the noise. I want to open my eyes but I don't, because this is the end. This is final. I don't want to open my eyes and see something that might draw me away from what I need to do.

And then I hear her voice. Kate's. It's far off, almost like she's come to find me, trying to get me to come back to her. It isn't in my head this time, and I feel that if I just open my eyes I will see her, standing just a few feet away, beckoning me to her. But the lightning strikes and the thunder crashes once more, and the rain dripping down my hand and the gun causes my finger to slip and I squeeze harder, trying to tighten my grip on the trigger. It works.