Frozen Creek

The world is a constant wheel of happening; a continuous and infinite line curved and jagged because of everlasting changes. No matter what anyone is doing (or isn't doing) at any hour, minute, and second of the day, there are more diverse events than imaginable going on at the same time. If you're sitting bored at home doing nothing, keep in mind that at least one individual is punching soil with a shovel to plant their future food, or as you sleep soundly on a thick mattress with cotton sheets, a child is hiding deathly scared because they do not want to become a young soldier for evil forces.

On your wedding day is someone's last day.
With a birth comes a death.

Life is a billion of minuscule cycles that either intertwine or forever remain separated, and those little circles of process are known as people. They come in different colors, they come about from contrasting backgrounds, and decision making for their own either catastrophic or microscopic situations are original all by themselves...yet, there exists a handful of concepts that lead the human race towards the same outcome.

These are subjects like honesty, perseverance, jealousy, bravery, and love. Telling the truth is ultimately greater than lying, continuously practicing or pressing on equals success, envy will get you nothing, facing fears will lead to overcoming them, and combining your life with someone you deeply care for rids you of all selfishness and wants for anyone else.
Only in their most genuine form, of course.

In a single lifetime at least two or three are visited, and unfortunately, it might not be the better half. Nobody strives to be a liar or possessed by a green beast, but when the cards are dealt, an individual will do what he/she can. There is one of these elements, however, where people are flocked like pigs in a line to their slaughter hell and left for dead or extremely close to it. This can be the most destructive and unrewarding of all, but possibly a rarity of happiness if met at the right time, correct person, and precise location.

Love, the one and only.

It is said to be the most notorious mystery of all, and people will spend their entire lives searching and find it only in the beings of multiple cats, drugs, or alcohol. On scarce occasion is it revealed, but as it is, you most likely won't know until confronted with a scenario that you would have responded to differently to before meeting your lover. It's not some big revelation when handed to the lucky one, but having it taken away would not even be a possibility.

Someone in love would rather die than lose their partner.

Standing on the edge of their plot holding a rose is a more melancholy experience than the soul leaving the body, which leads to the only other option where on the opposite side of the spectrum, love-induced men or women are dropping dead in order to spare the life of their significant other. This is the strongest and more selfless act ever committed, and one told as occasionally as love itself appears.

Imagine God gingerly slipping off spectacles and holding them out to take a closer look at his Earth; his creation. Fading in and out of focus is a city out of many in America known as Anton located in Colorado. There is a train speeding down the tracks towards its destination of Seattle, Washington, and now that the lenses have adjusted, we see a couple in the very last compartment who have been engaged a little over a year and finally ready to tie the knot.

Their names are Sam Carter and Jenna Stevens, ecstatic to become his wife titled Jenna Carter.

The ring teasingly placed on the finger closest to her pinky sometimes rung church bells and glees of satisfied family members who might have loved Sam as much as she had. When the band gleamed in the afternoon sun, glimpses of lips uttering "I do"s and the official first kiss of a marriage fluttered in Jenna's eyes and she could barely wait any longer for her and her fiancé’s committing, bonding act.

The blonde-haired man of 24 witnessed first-hand the desperation and ache contorting her face from time to time, and the first chance he was on break from his band he bought the tickets to the Amtrak station to bring the two to her family's hometown to wed.

He held the position of front man in the popular UK band known as The Architects, and it not being on the more conservative side of music ever created, his parents had distanced themselves from their son and his strive to live in a shaky and unpredictable fashion. They did not consider a group of young males making noise a career in the slightest and definitely one path their offspring should tip-toe on the edge of. He felt that trying to explain his passion to them more than once was fruitless, and also unnecessary, for they should have understood and supported his decisions irregardless.

This was the main reason why the couple opted to host the ceremony on her parents' side of the globe; Jenna had only met his mother and father once or twice and they weren't the warmest bunch. In fact, she thought that they should have lived in Alaska or even the scarcely inhabited Antartica to have cohesive lives with their surroundings. She never told her soon-to-be-husband that, but balanced faintly on the borderline by stating that she didn't believe that he was related to them because the three were so different.

He rarely defended the motives of his parents; only in the beginning had he because he was aware that they only wanted the best for their son instead of being a bum on the street due to a dream that failed him, but now that Sam had actually made a decent living out of it and they still didn't accept him, he had nothing else for them.
He had succeeded, just not in the way they had intended, so what could be done?

Nothing.

He shrugged them off and only called on holidays and now that he was getting married, but never again unless he would be on his deathbed.

While traveling on the train, he had had another short talk with them in the compartment when Jenna excused herself to the bathroom to offer some space. He appreciated this to no end, for he would never consider spending the rest of his life with a girl who was too pushy and forceful upon him and his private life. Everyone needs a certain distance from others to still claim something for their own.

She was well aware of the unstable relationship they shared, and though now playing a very important part of his life still would never dream of interfering in such personal territory.

When Jenna returned to her fiance, he was just putting his phone in his right pocket, sighing deeply. It was short and sweet like Sam was used to, and he was ashamed that he though his folks just might want to welcome him back into their open arms. Once he noticed his future bride standing by the door, however, he put on an empty smile that didn't necessarily lie because he knew that she would see right through it, and wanting so badly to help him through it, would only sit back down and let him stroke her hair.

She shifted from one foot to the other and then filled out his premonition. He would never adjust to this "gift" of his, but it sure was comforting sometimes to know what was going to happen before it did. It wasn't your typical hypothesis from a partner that already had you all figured out due to experience, because Sam could actually visualize every facial movement (even if it was in short supply) in the few seconds it took for her to reach her seat next to him.

Put simply, he was very special.

Another vision flashed past the backs of his eyes of the old man who pushed the food cart on the train, saying he was out of bottled water. Sam shook it off, turning his attention to Jenna. Her face still held concern, so he comforted her the best to his abilities by interlocking their fingers loosely. There was not a chance of him talking about his scarce phone conversation, so he opted for any other door to open in front of him.

Jenna sat somberly on his right, meaning her left hand was in his bigger right, and he stared down at the band around her finger; tracing across its perimeter delicately.

"Quite a nice ring yeh got, eh? Where'd yeh acquire such a beauty?"

This was a hopeful attempt at lightening the mood; they were on a train on their way to getting married after all, and he didn't want a minor setback to ruin the ever-wanted plan. Her golden eyes met with his hazel ones, trying to figure him out. He was all about living in the moment, and this was just another instance to add to a lifetime.

She decided to play along and answered,
"A nice man bought it for me."

"Relleh now?"
He asked.

She nodded.

Sam scratched at the minimal facial hair growing on his chin, looking like he was cut out of Cartoon Network. This made Jenna want to laugh, but held her tongue.

"Does 'e 'ave blonde 'air?"

"Yes."

"Green eyes?"

"Yeah."

"...'ow 'bout height? 's he a tall lad?"

"I have to stand on my toes to kiss him."

She admitted, as though it were debatable to reveal, and he scratched at his jaw some more before stopping and looking at her with a faux expression of exasperation.
He was such a character.

"Lucky man, 'e mus' be serious."

His face dropped to something contemplative; not in a terrifying fashion but in a way where admiration was not too far from the surface, and Jenna smiled gently and kissed him. It was laced in sweetness while lasting long enough to be considered pure love, and when they broke apart, he stared.

Moving her fringe away from her glowing orbs, Sam whispered gently,
"Do yeh know how much I love yeh?"

He asked her this at least once a day, and anymore than that was either because he was feeling deeply sentimental or something was wrong. It had become a verbal routine for them; a saying.
Her lashes fell on top of her cheeks for a second, blinking.

"More than all the miles you'll ever travel."

He pressed his mouth to her temple and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, hers leading up and around his blades as well.

"Tha's right."

They stayed together like this, reveling in affection, before a small speed bump came along the tracks and caused a snap back into the physical world. It was nothing to worry about, only to shake someone up, and then normality. The two broke apart and sat back fully on the same couch; no one else shared a compartment with them which was a lucky strike, and Sam joked before the possibility of a middle-aged man across, eating salad with his hands and who turns out to be a planned killer on his way to Slovakia.
Jenna told him he should lay off the horror films before he becomes too paranoid, and to just enjoy the space.

"Leas' I can grope yeh if I wan'."

She rolled her eyes and looked at him blankly, giving him her response without uttering a word. He put his hands in the air defensively and shrugged.

"Oi, I'm jus' sayin', it's 'lot easier since an old pervy bloke ain' across."

His imagination could get the better of him more often than not, and it was quite a form of entertainment to watch and hear his sporadic and colorful actions. There was never a dull moment in his single own life, and Jenna blamed it on seasonal touring, or even sometimes all year long, and even though it brought out his greater side, there were side effects.

It was on these occasions that she felt the most lonely: as her boyfriend was out singing his words and getting strangers to love him, she was left in their half-empty apartment wishing that his love could solely be hers. She never asked him to do such a thing, and didn't want him to stop because it would always be the first love of his life while she would forever remain second.

She didn't mind so long as he kept smiling and squeezing her ribs together whenever he returned home.
That was all she could ever want.

He was truly content with his life at the present moment and the possibilities of where it could end that he could die right now and hold nothing against God. It was only those elongated durations of no contact that Sam and Jenna would somewhat lose themselves and start to find comfort in other substitutes; the front man with alcohol and his beautiful bride with being reclusive.

Like Sam, Jenna was also effervescent no matter how mush she didn't believe it. Full of life with her sarcasm (ironically) and huge heart, she and her lover were the perfect couple, even their friends said so. While they were tested and stretched and being sawed in half, it was all a lost effort by the forces of evil because it was like hacking at steel.

It had only delayed their rite of passage to being married, but look at them now on their way to finally making it happen.

They had come so far that they were amazed while they weren't; they couldn't see themselves with anyone else. Jenna let her head fall against Sam as they looked out the window of the train; the scenery changing quickly with every second from dense pines covered in snow to plains of unused land only for beautiful show. Sam had adjusted to the territories of many different countries and their seasons; the springs of Spain, summers of America, autumns of France, winters of Japan -everything.

He has more miles on his back than a 1974 Chevy, but it was sharing this view with his fiance that made everything so much different. She barely traveled outside of Brighton (where her and Sam’s apartment was) while the world was at his fingertips, for whenever he returned back home that's the only place he wanted to stay. He just craved laziness, watching movies, and ordering takeout; spend as much time with the people he loved until he would be called out by his band again.

He traveled enough already and he it wasn't in his mindset to add it into his freedoms.

Only now was an instance where it was great, so long as the result was what he had been waiting for for over a year, which it absolutely was. Marrying Jenna was the equivalent to striking gold; winning the lottery. Maybe even staring at himself in the mirror, and instead of only a basic reflection he sees someone completely different while somehow remaining in his body, then he knows that this is it. This is what he has been looking forward to, and soon he and the being from the other side will come together and unite as one.

"Look Sam, there's an eagle," she muttered excitedly.

He traced from her gaze to the upper left corner of the window, and sure enough there flew a majestic, bald bird with its wings spread, not flapping. Just gliding. He marveled at the beast's ease to soar so high above the ground with no fear, and if it knew that someone was watching it, or further, watching it with envy.

It never occurred to the man 1 year into his twenties that the eagle was flying no matter how scared he was because he had no choice, and not because it was something he wanted to do. Every time he propelled his wings toward the sky, he may have desperately wished to remain on the ground.

Just because anything is capable of something doesn't mean it isn't afraid of its own abilities. Sometimes you have to do something you don't want to do.

This was a hidden metaphor that caught Sam and wrapped its barbed tentacles around to poison him; inject his being with such philosophy that the bird could have very well been Plato reincarnated. It scared him slightly to notice the effect it had on him so quickly, and he felt the urge to let his eyes slide shut.

He knew what was about to happen -he had known ever since it happened the first time when he was merely a child playing behind his house. He would close his eyes, all sound would fade, and he'd see things. Sometimes it would be extremely foggy while other times it was clear as day; it just depended on many different aspects like fatigue, consciousness, and level of focus. Due to the eagle or to his sharp mindset he didn't know, but he felt that this would be one of his stronger visions.

Over the years, the skill to predict the intensity of his own predictions has strengthened; his family was well aware, as was Jenna. The group didn't grow much farther than this; the entire world didn't need awareness of him like that.

A picture of 'Wrong Way' flickered behind his eyelids, yet so vivid. The sign had a red border, showing a silhouette of a man almost breaking his back working; shaped like a yield sign. After this, it was like looking at a film reel in action except slow enough to make out the various images.

The ending of pines.
The beginning of a bridge.
100 or so feet above water.
A huge cliff at the other side of the crossing.
No where to go except down.

The vision is gone.

His mind returned to darkness, for the mental crystal ball had foretold its ugly prophecy, and Sam was left with the horror of a disastrous future. The worst thing he had ever seen was a minor car accident with his mother driving, but never an event so catastrophic and fatal that included himself. He couldn't try to convince himself that it was a sick joke from his brain because it was so obviously a vision, more real than he had ever experienced.
Jenna shifted her head around his arm, then picked herself up to look at him. His face conveyed sheer terror.

"Sam honey, what's wrong?"

She placed her hand against his cheek and turned him towards her gently when he didn't respond in an effort to snap him out of it, but the attempt was lost. A shock had set in so deep that it was etched in the lining of his stomach, chiseled just as rapidly as it affected. The same as someone standing on a chair with a rope around his neck, or off the side of the Golden Gate Bridge, only without the clarity. It is said that in the last minutes of your life everything makes sense, but Sam had never been more confused.

How could that saying even come about if the people who possibly felt it died soon after?

It didn't make sense, and yet, nothing else was either.

He tried to open his mouth, but it opted to stay shut and keep all its shock to itself to be repressed inside and never see the light of day. Worrying Jenna would only make everything worse, and if this was truth, Sam didn't want to spend those last moments with panic if it really were possible for clarity and peace. He would keep the stress and full fear and let her live in unawareness.
Ignorance is bliss.

"N...nothin'."

He replied shakily, and not sounding convincing enough added,
"I jus' get relleh nervous on trains sometimes."

It gave Sam a bad taste in his throat to lie, but he knew it was for the best; he could have been wrong with the vision, but that argument still felt empty. He was never wrong, and those prophecies always played out to be accurate. It was just too unbelievable to believe that the very train he boarded would be plummeting towards the icy water beneath the faulty, uncompleted bridge.

"Are you sure? You're breathing really heavily and I can hear your heart from a mile away."
She said with a laugh.

The bubble of happiness couldn't help but mend and break his heart simultaneously. They held such contrasting perspectives, with her being naive ignorance and his miserable wisdom that he wanted to push back in the face of God. He didn't want this.

"Aw Sam,"
She spoke gently while linking arms with him.

"It's alright, I'm here with you."

There's no one else I'd rather crash and burn with.

His try at a smile is more dejected than before, but he didn't have to worry about her reaction for she squinted her eyes and yawned.

"Yeh tired darling?"

His voice still hadn't returned to its normal pitch, and he was doing everything in his power not to lose it. Maybe if Jenna slept, it would be so much easier.

She shrugged,
"Just a little, but I'll wait until we get there."

"Tha's in a couple o' hours; get some rest love."

Please, please listen to me.

As if hearing his pleading thoughts or too weak to deny the offer, she gives a fatigue-driven nod and lays her head in his lap, allowing her eyes to close for what might be forever. Sam backed away from that darkness of doubt, but it was still there for him to inevitably visit again. Precious time was on the line; he had no idea when anything was going to happen but only that it was.

They say never take anything for granted for a reason, except the reason displayed here is in the worst degree. It would be quick when it arrived, but the wait was agonizing. Sam was trying to sit still and not shake instinctively as Jenna dreamed of more pleasant scenes; he was about to meet his maker. This was not how he pictured things ending, not like Titanic or Romeo and Juliet, but possibly like...The Notebook. He would have never admitted that before because his pride got in the way of everything, now he could run into the hallway and scream it to every other passenger on board.

He didn't care anymore. He wanted to open himself up and give all the love he had been harboring. He wanted truth, but not the ugly one he got.

Sam let his fingers run across the sleek wave of his lover's hair, and more than ever, it felt the softest. Every strand was there for a reason, and put together it constructs something so seemingly simple. This made him see everything around himself, even from the dust collecting on the large window, as a cleverly placed accident from the greatest creator. There was such an elated feeling of appreciation and regret; this would be the last time he would ever get to have with his wife who wasn't even granted the title, and sadly, never would be.

The engagement ring on both their hands now couldn't resemble love, but the ultimate failure of them never getting the chance to cross over in that pre-destined commitment.

That's when Sam lost it.

It was a whole year of being at rock bottom of the greatest relationship he had ever had, after promising a depressed-ridden Jenna that they would be together officially when he returned from touring and give her an even greater wedding than she could fathom. Only the touring never ended and became longer spans of time with only a week or two breaks in between. While he was gone she was left waiting and slowly dying from not being able to do anything in the situation she played such a major role in.

Tears welled in his eyes at the thought of her sitting on their dainty living room couch that tore at the seams and staring with no emotion at the stark wall; rotting away.
Not talking to anyone.
All alone.

"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry,"
He repeated as he sobbed.

Sam couldn't control himself with so much sadness and misery; it was a quiet type of mourning that could not be measured by its volume, but by its passion. You can be the most driven by an emotion while remaining silent. He was going to die. Goodbye family. Goodbye friends. Goodbye blessed band mates. Goodbye to his love lying peacefully in his lap.
There was no way to stop it from happening, there never was in more minor scenarios anyway, and he wasn't going to fight destiny.

There was a knock on his compartment door and looked up rather quickly. The guest didn't wait for an answer before sliding the wooden piece that separated him and Sam to look at him. It was the aged man working the cart that goes up and down the train with beverages, food, and basically any refreshment any humble being could ever desire. Too bad there wasn't a time turner necklace to fix this unfortunate event.

"Yeh alrigh' sunny?"

He was of Irish descent, and in that moment, Sam couldn't have given a shit less. His throat was dry from all the crying, and at this point he wanted to at least be in control of one part of his body.

"Uh, yeah,"
He wiped away any stray sadness lining his sockets and continued.

"Do yeh 'ave any, any bottle wa'er?"

The man gave him a face without looking at the cart; water must have been requested a lot.

"Sorreh son; ran out."

Sam's mind brought him back to the earlier vision he had been visited by (due to the strong feeling of deja vu) and it was probably just to prove to him that it was never wrong in its actions. It was any time now; any time soon. He noticed something shimmering on the man's left hand, the same thing he wanted more than anything else aside from living.

"Yer wife 'ere?"
He asked.

The kind elder realized Sam was staring longingly at his ring, and if possible, his wrinkled face softened more. There grew a glow in his eyes that the younger man across from him ached for, and a precious smile. It's not often someone sees passion that has lasted for decades, which this one has by the gentle expression clearly evident.

"Aye, watin' fer my shift teh end."

"Stay with her."

He looked at Sam, baffled, then smiled again.

"I will, she's a keeper."

"No, I meant stop workin' an' stay wiff 'er!"
He said more forcefully this time, and the old man stared trying to understand the content of this young adult passenger's words.

Sam was broken to no repair, and it would end with his soul in pieces; falling in slow motion down into the water below the bridge. So many lives to follow close behind and without any idea of what was happening, and according to him, those were definitely the lucky ones.

"Jus' trust meh, alrigh'?! Go righ' now an' tell 'er yeh love her!"

His tears poured over, his voice cracking.
Sam ran a hand through his blonde hair, so shameful that he was acting as such and couldn't keep it together enough to do one last person a bigger favor than he knew at the time. Frightened by the sudden frustration and pleading, the man left the cart behind as he scattered away. Jenna stirred in her sleep, but he couldn't try to remain quiet anymore.
She awoke.

"Why were you...why were you yelling?"
She yawned mid-sentence.

If it weren't for her movement and overall consciousness he would have forgotten she was there. He glanced at her with soft eyes and stopped crying, or at least, tries to; even though they are delicate, his irises are stricken with scarlet veins revealing themselves and could not be hidden from his fiance.

Her face drops at his unstable state, sits up immediately, and stares straight at him. Sam looks away miserably when she reaches out toward him.

"...What's wrong?"

"Ev-, every'fing's fine."
He stuttered, still hiccuping from his previous cries.

"Why were you crying then?"

It was frailly said so he wouldn't break down again and reach the point of no return in telling her. As a couple, communication was essential, as it should be in every relationship, and without it they were merely two strangers stuck together. Sam remained quiet, not wanting to cross past the line and into that territory.
The only sounds heard were those of the train chugging closer and closer to the bridge.

"Please tell m-"

"Jus' lie down an' sleep again. We'll be there soon."

Only the destination he was referring to was of the spiritual domain as opposed to Seattle. She'd never know; he'd never tell her, and this vicious cycle never ends. He knew they were on the brink of a disagreement at least, but Sam was conflicted with spending the last few minutes in argument or panic, and the former just felt like a much better chance to transform into the lighter of having one-sided content.

Either way, he was the only one who's options would never result in happiness. Jenna was so lost in a mental Sahara and looked at it from the perspective of her partner who would rather rot in his personal turmoil instead of grabbing her hand to get helped back up.

She moved closer towards his face and whispered in hurt,
"...Is it me? Do you not want to get married anymore?"

One half of his heart is hanging from the piercing edge of a rib while the other flutters to the ground of his stomach like a leaf. This wasn't even a comprehensible concept; marriage to Jenna was more important than a continuous intake of oxygen, yet in impeccable time he put the dreaded chance in her mind.
Massive contrition clouded his brain, and he put his hands on each cheek, pressing his forehead to hers, breathing softly.

"I'd 'ave teh get a heart transplant if I didn' want teh spend the rest of my life wiff yeh, because it would mean tha' mine's fuckin' broken."

Then he pecked her gently on the lips, whispering "I love you"s and other sweet everythings. He takes her in for a hug, stroking her hair again as she sinks into his touch. They're a finished jigsaw puzzle for a while just like this, and maybe even back to normal.

At least until the bridge came into view and a strange, disturbing alarm went off.

Sam's eyes could have bounced across the floor, and lungs crumple; it couldn't have been happening. This was all a horrific dream that he had to get himself out of before his legs would spasm from the cruel, imaginary fall. Only this was not imaginary, and most certainly not a dream.

This was as real as it gets, and he had a limited amount of time to say everything he has ever wanted. A chance for unconditional clarity to be free when he was sent off to another dimension. His heart was running a rocky mile a second, and his breath hitched in his throat.

Not wanting to waste a second, he pulled Jenna and himself from the couch and whipped the compartment door wide open, that food cart still there from when the man left it. There were lights on the ceiling in distanced intervals, maybe 3 for each boxcar, and would blink for what Sam figured would be until the train became destroyed, and car by car, go out when smashed by the impact.

His love's face was vulnerable and shot with panic by the alerts while turning herself inside Sam's body, scared out of her own. He knew that as this crash was going to occur, never would he let go of her. Never would he separate themselves, because if there was a heaven, even a hell, there wouldn't be any loop holes for destiny to try to squirm its way into.

They were going to leave this earth together.

Sam brings them down to sit against one wall of the walkway, and together they double over into a huddled mass of bone and muscle; their heads in their laps, touching.

"Cl-close yer eyes."
He stutters hysterically, and they could feel the train rattle the slightest bit as it drove onto the bridge.

He felt his body tighten and strengthened his hold on his wife, who was horrified about what was happening, and suddenly, had a flicker of a feeling that this was what was wrong with him. He had been crying because he knew something was about to shatter his world; their world. Everything makes sense in the end.

Sam was glad he talked to his parents.
He had left everyone he loved on a good note.
He held little to no regrets in his lifetime.

God he wished he could have grown older, wiser, and even more diverse in his experienced. Jenna was enough -more than enough- and he just had to keep holding her to make this last day count.
Then the train started shaking more violently with her whimpering in his arms and her flesh spasming.

"Ssh...sshh...sshh...ss...ssh..."

People threw open their own doors and started flooding the hall, either kids in their grasps, material items -anything they could hold onto as they screamed. There were names being called, raising the volume with Billy or Morgan or Dylan, and the terror in their eyes could petrify the entire universe.

Loud, piercing thumps and screeches of metal were finally occurring more haunting than speared whales or burn victims. Jenna was now heaving and sobbing uncontrollably, and in the sight of God with his microscope, watching true love come to an end on his prized planet, the countdown began.

10...
9...
8...
7...
6...

"Do yeh know 'ow much I love yeh?"

4...
3...
2...

"More than all the miles you'll ever travel."