Prescription for Miss Walker

Black wasn't my color.

     With hair and eyes as light as mine, black made me look drowned out. It encompassed all me, trapped me and it never settled right. Maybe in jeans, sure – but all black? Nope, I looked like an idiot.

     I liked suits as well, once. Back when we were together, Amy called me dapper whenever I suited-up. She'd probably been referring to our wedding when, of course, I dressed to impress.

     I cursed myself, loosening my tie as I plodded back down on the bed. The man in the mirror copied me, only I felt like he was always watching me.

     The studio apartment where I'd spent almost every day of the last three months was knee-deep in silence. I'd cleared out almost everything that had belonged to Shira, except for some things.

     Like her books. I somehow couldn't bring myself to trash them, or hand them off to someone else. She hadn't owned too many personal things, she used to say that stuff linked to sentimental feelings were stupid. And maybe she was right, because that's how I felt now, too.

     So, I bought the apartment from her landlord, who didn't seem even interested that she was no longer with us. I mean, how fucking rude can you be?

     In a matter of days, I'd moved in, with help from Madison and her girlfriend. They'd poured over the apartment like it was crystallized gold, her best friend telling me stories from their college days and how odd it was that Shira would never get to witness the rest of their lives. It had impacted Madison quite a fair bit, that much was obvious, and she and Danielle had claimed some bits and bobs that she explained meant a lot to her.

     When I'd informed them I was moving in, they easily put the pieces together and, for the first time, neither was judgemental. I honestly think they were happy that they had more to remember her for.

     And maybe I didn't have a shiny souvenir or anything some people may say help them become closer to the dead, but I did have the apartment. And I guess, well, it was better than nothing at all.

***

After the service, I shook hands with her father and family. A lot more people showed up than I thought would. It appears she hadn't given them enough credit.

     When they were all over and done with, I turned to the disturbed dirt and the mountain it was beginning to form. It ached knowing that someone so wonderful was trapped under all of that, never allowed to rise again.

     People were departing, leaving for the wake. There wasn't much chatter – I was used to silence.

     "You know, in the whole whatever hours I'd known her, I didn't realize she was ill. I think it was because, while she looked drained, she was so full of spunk." A voice projected from behind me.

     I turned my head lightly, to find a woman in a short black dress. She was slim and tall, blonde hair cascading down to who-knows where.

     The sun obscured her face from view, but I didn't care. I didn't mind how it felt like an omen.

     Because it seemed like the whole world was out to get me, anyway.

     "That sounds like her." I faced the soil again. Shira, in all the months that she knew she was going to croak, hadn't prepared any funeral plans. It meant there was no headstone yet. It would take a few months before one would be delivered.

     Leaves and grass crushed neatly under the weight of the woman, who suddenly stood beside me, eyes reading just as intently as myself.

     "So, what was your relation to her?" She blurted.

     My eyes narrowed of their own accord, but I couldn't do it in her direction.

     "Doctor and boyfriend."

     "Scandalous." She purred. She pocketed her hands in her dress. Handy. "And kind of hot."

     I didn't try to hide it, I laughed a little, meeting her eyes. She was friendly and her honesty reminded me of Shira a bit. Normally, people would be freaked, but I quite enjoyed the reminder.

     I guess she was pretty, with oceanic blue eyes and a load of eye make-up. She'd abandoned all lipstick and everything else. She knew where attention was drawn to.

     "I'm glad they caught her ex, though. I guess some people really are so disgusting to behave like that to someone who's already going through so much."

     Yeah, Ben. The police caught up to him a few days after she passed. Turns out, he'd slept in an alley after he left her place and put his trust in a few homeless men who resided there permanently. When the cops patrolled and asked a guy, they were lucky he wasn't a madman. He led them straight to Ben, who'd grown a disheveled beard and multiple bruises in limbs Shira had struck in her battle against him.

     He was behind bars for now, until his trial in three months' time. Madison and Shira's upstairs neighbors were taking the stand as witnesses. Some others were pitching, but I think it was just as a mean to get him locked up, rather than justice.

     So, in some people's eyes, he got what he deserved.

     I, on the other hand, wouldn't mind having his head in a jar that I could display for everyone to see. I wouldn't hesitate in telling his story.

     I nodded at her.

     "Are you going to the wake?"

     I pouted my lips and faced the way in which I knew was the car park, but my mind was already made.

     "No, I like the quiet."

     "That is the best thing I've heard all day." She smiled, and I did so back. She was nice enough, I suppose. "I'm Angel."

     She produced a petit hand for me to shake.

     I took it. It was different to be around someone who didn't make me feel like they were constantly prying. A change I welcomed.