MARI'S POV
"When all that is left of this life is a piece of my soul and my woes embalmed, I'll go with the wind and rest where it leaves me" I turn the pages of my notebook slowly till I reached its cover. A bitter smile spread through my lips as I drop the notebook; my true companion. The friend that has always been a part of me, listening to, and taking in all that bleeds through my fingertips. The only thing I'd sacrifice my being for whenever the need finds me is Poetry. Boy would I sacrifice my days writing poems, and the rest of what's left to it's twin; prose.
I try my best to brighten the look on my face, the smile just refuse getting better. It felt sour, so I just let go of trying. Instead I took my phone and squirrelled into my bed. With the hopes for finding a way out, I browse through my contacts, they felt few. It became hard for me to make a choice. Who do I call?
In the end, I settled for Baron. Baron is my ex, like one of my exes. And trust me, he's not the one whose hoodie I'm wearing. That's Jaden, and Jaden is the worst. I dare not call him, he'd block me. But if he did make the call himself, I would go to him, or maybe not; just sometimes.
"whats up?" Baron's hoarse voice reached me through the phone. I had completely forgotten my phone was on dial. But why does his voice sound so hoarse? Is it that he's been sleeping?
"Ahem.." I cleared my throat, hoping I don't sound awkward, but that too itself felt awkward.
"Hey! I…"
"Want to come over?" Baron interrupted. He didn't even let me finish. It was as though he knew what I wanted. But it wasn't entirely what I wanted.
"Uhm… yeah," I replied. I didn't feel so excited. But I jumped out of the bed anyway after he hung up. I doubt my reply barely got to him before he ended the call. Yet, it's nothing. Nothing compared to what I'm currently going through. Right? Like, I shouldn't consider this, should I?
I slump back in the embrace of my bed, unwilling to move. No! I just could not push myself to leave the bed anymore. To hell with Baron. I will just suck it all up, cry and let it go. Maybe I will sleep a while until I feel quite better. Otherwise, I might as well, take a stroll if my body would co-operate.
I shut my eyes welcoming the red and black dots, a fine illusion of darkness. My thoughts spiralled to the day I and Washington first met. We were both running from the rain and ended up seeking shelter at the same spot. He was a fine gentle man. The only one who didn't break my heart the regular way. He's the softest love I ever had. Perhaps, the only love I have ever experienced; the rest of them are just sex and pleasure buried in deep wells of lies. A wild laughter escaped from my bowels as I recall how Washington stammered while offering me his already wet jacket to cover me from the cold. Oh! How beautiful that day felt. It couldn't stop me from freezing, but it sure did melt my heart.
"Aren't you such a gentleman!" I said to him with a smile on my face. It was genuine, I almost felt like kissing him. I did feel like kissing him. But he was struggling with his glasses. He looked obsessed with it, like a butterfly in search of nectar. I liked him from that moment.
"god damn it!" he cussed, and I pretend to gasp. How could such a gentleman use such cuss words. I tapped on his shoulder, he stared blankly at me. If only I knew he could not decipher my face at that moment, I would have made lots of funny faces. Or maybe I would have been more careful not to let him drop his glass. Perhaps, I would not have ended up aiding him to his apartment; I would not have fallen for him and ended up bereaved.
More tears flood the soil on which my eyes rest as I recount my love story with Washington. He was the man for me. The only one that wasn't there just for sex. Why do good people always end up dead? Why? "Why?" I yelled, sniffling in.
"Why what?" the voice in my head asked. I almost believed it was external. I turned around as though looking for the one who spoke.
"Amari, shouldn't you let the dead be?" it questioned. I felt hurt more than anything I asked it to shut up. I was never going to let go of Washington. I never intend doing that.
"No!" I said affirmatively. But the voice would not let me be. It was out to mock me. It was out to drag me by the hair and pull me through the streets.
"For someone who has had so many men in her life after Washington, I would almost believe you are yet to move on with your current attitude."
Although I wanted to protest and refute the voice in my head, I knew it had a point. I have loved and entertained at least 3 other guys after Washington's death. A mysterious smile suddenly hit my face. I think I have the best plan to end this. Perhaps I'll meet with my dead lover and we'll reunite forever inseparable. Or perhaps I might as well end up in hell, if it exists.
I jump out of my bed in enthusiasm, my spirit as high as mount Everest. It would take a dead man to see the top of it. I hummed to unrecognisable tune as I joyfully prepare for the worse way to die. Being hit by a car like Washington would only mean we were meant to be after all.
I let out a dry laugh, swirling around while picking my outfit. A yellow flowered dress would be perfect. It was a gift from Washington for being in my life one month late from my birthday. He even apologised for not spending it with me. What a cruel soul, he could not even live longer to witness the one after.
I put on my favourite black laced panties before taking off the oversized hoodie. Then I helped myself into the dress I had picked. It only took a little ruffling of my hair and a red lipstick to get me set for my journey to the afterlife; hopefully it does exist. I let my hips sway as I walk out the door and out of the apartment building into the streets.