My Castles Are Falling
Prologue
He stared down at his hands that rested on his lap. His fingers played with the dark gray suit pants he wore. As he listened to the voice that filled the room, he finally lost the battle to keep the tears from falling. It was the first time since he'd received the news. But now, sitting there, her cold body only a few feet from him, it was finally real.
He hadn't wanted to believe it at first. For the past week, his heart had broken a thousand times over and he went through each day in a zombie-like state. He still didn't want to believe it. And now, as he listened to a mutual friend tell a story about her, his already broken heart shattered into even smaller pieces. The pain he felt in his chest was unbearable.
A hand reached over and rubbed his back, an attempt to assure him that everything would be fine. But he knew better. He knew that once the tears started, it would be a long time before they stopped.
She had meant everything to him, the only girl he would have given up everything for, had she asked him to. The epitome of everything he ever saw as beautiful and the closest thing to perfection he had ever found, he loved her with his entire being. She was his best friend and the one girl he had never been able to make his.
And now she was dead. Dead. The word stabbed at his insides like a dull knife, ripping painfully through his organs. He did the best he could to breathe, but his lungs didn't want to cooperate. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly and counted backward from ten, silently praying that the tightness in his chest would not turn into a full blown panic attack. He had to keep it together.
When the service was over, he stood without a word and walked to the open casket. Her bright eyes were closed so he couldn't see them and her normally flawless skin was grayish and waxy. It didn't even look like her, instead some sculptured version of the girl he knew wearing her favorite dress. The makeup was all wrong. It had been applied with a heavy hand, whereas she had always kept it light and natural, accenting her already gorgeous features while never seeking to draw attention to herself.
The last memory he would ever have of her and it wasn't even really her, just her body. It didn't matter what they had done to her face, or what they dressed her in, it was her spirit that made her who she was. And her spirit was long gone.
He reached out with one hand and gently touched her dark hair. It was soft like it always had been. After a moment, he kissed his fingers, pressing them gently to her lips and bringing his other hand down to brush her cheek. Her skin felt the way it looked, and it was cold under his own. The tears fell faster and he squeezed his eyes shut once again; this wasn't the last memory he wanted of her. He moved his fingers back to her hair, the only part of her that still felt real, and he kept them there, searching his mind for a picture of the real her. When he found it, he could see her vibrant green eyes and bright skin and smile, he could hear her laughing, and he prayed that he would never forget that it was the most beautiful sound he had ever had the joy of knowing.
He hadn't wanted to believe it at first. For the past week, his heart had broken a thousand times over and he went through each day in a zombie-like state. He still didn't want to believe it. And now, as he listened to a mutual friend tell a story about her, his already broken heart shattered into even smaller pieces. The pain he felt in his chest was unbearable.
A hand reached over and rubbed his back, an attempt to assure him that everything would be fine. But he knew better. He knew that once the tears started, it would be a long time before they stopped.
She had meant everything to him, the only girl he would have given up everything for, had she asked him to. The epitome of everything he ever saw as beautiful and the closest thing to perfection he had ever found, he loved her with his entire being. She was his best friend and the one girl he had never been able to make his.
And now she was dead. Dead. The word stabbed at his insides like a dull knife, ripping painfully through his organs. He did the best he could to breathe, but his lungs didn't want to cooperate. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly and counted backward from ten, silently praying that the tightness in his chest would not turn into a full blown panic attack. He had to keep it together.
When the service was over, he stood without a word and walked to the open casket. Her bright eyes were closed so he couldn't see them and her normally flawless skin was grayish and waxy. It didn't even look like her, instead some sculptured version of the girl he knew wearing her favorite dress. The makeup was all wrong. It had been applied with a heavy hand, whereas she had always kept it light and natural, accenting her already gorgeous features while never seeking to draw attention to herself.
The last memory he would ever have of her and it wasn't even really her, just her body. It didn't matter what they had done to her face, or what they dressed her in, it was her spirit that made her who she was. And her spirit was long gone.
He reached out with one hand and gently touched her dark hair. It was soft like it always had been. After a moment, he kissed his fingers, pressing them gently to her lips and bringing his other hand down to brush her cheek. Her skin felt the way it looked, and it was cold under his own. The tears fell faster and he squeezed his eyes shut once again; this wasn't the last memory he wanted of her. He moved his fingers back to her hair, the only part of her that still felt real, and he kept them there, searching his mind for a picture of the real her. When he found it, he could see her vibrant green eyes and bright skin and smile, he could hear her laughing, and he prayed that he would never forget that it was the most beautiful sound he had ever had the joy of knowing.