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mortal
with 18 posts
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| it was clear with every page that they were further away from a solution that would play |
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Post by HARPER PHOENIX on Sept 11, 2014 13:34:02 GMT
weddings, they're supposed to be fun and exciting. the start of a new life with a person you love - read: are supposed to love - and you know that your parents are enjoying it so far. you're surprised, or you were at first. your eyes went wide and a small grin broke on your face when you realised your mother was having the time of her life and your father was smiling for once.
your father doesn't smile much anymore, not after giving the business to you.
(sometimes you think you'd like to give it back to him, but now you can't go back on it)
everyone is smiling - as far as you can tell - as your eyes glance around the room.
everyone but you.
you suppose you know why, why this wedding doesn't feel like a real wedding to you, but it's a silent notion that will sit at the back of your head and gnaw at your brain until the end of the night. until you're filled with expensive wine you don't know the names of and food that tastes so good it makes your taste buds go numb (or maybe that's just the spices in them).
for a while, you hoped that the doors would burst open and someone would yell your name and you'd jump down and run across the dancefloor. you hoped your parents wouldn't be too mad, and no one would write nasty articles in magazines and newspapers about you. but as the hours ticked by the hope started to dwindle and you realised no, your fantasy wasn't going to come true no matter how much you wanted it.
how naive of you, you muse.
he's not coming, of course he wouldn't, you think to yourself and you think you've finally accepted that fact. but when your bride - your wife - places a slim hand on your shoulder and presses her lipstick stained lips against your cheek you realise that-
-no, you haven't accepted it, and it makes you want to cry.
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mortal
with 18 posts
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| it was clear with every page that they were further away from a solution that would play |
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Post by HARPER PHOENIX on Sept 11, 2014 20:48:07 GMT
 Dungaree cami metallic white clutch skirt Acne crop silhouette street style. Flats denim shorts midi holographic minimal oversized sweatshirt lilac leggings Lanvin So-Cal. Céline sneaker vintage Levi Saint Laurent ecru. Envelope clutch spearmint Hermès Paris sandal. Dungaree cami metallic white clutch skirt Acne crop silhouette street style. Flats denim shorts midi holographic minimal oversized sweatshirt lilac leggings Lanvin So-Cal. Céline sneaker vintage Levi Saint Laurent ecru. Envelope clutch spearmint Hermès Paris sandal. HARPER PHOENIX |
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mortal
with 18 posts
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| it was clear with every page that they were further away from a solution that would play |
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Post by HARPER PHOENIX on Sept 11, 2014 20:53:03 GMT
HARPER PHOENIX, TWENTY-THREE Dungaree cami metallic white clutch skirt Acne crop silhouette street style. Flats denim shorts midi holographic minimal oversized sweatshirt lilac leggings Lanvin So-Cal. Céline sneaker vintage Levi Saint Laurent ecru. Envelope clutch spearmint Hermès Paris sandal.
Dungaree cami metallic white clutch skirt Acne crop silhouette street style. Flats denim shorts midi holographic minimal oversized sweatshirt lilac leggings Lanvin So-Cal. Céline sneaker vintage Levi Saint Laurent ecru. Envelope clutch spearmint Hermès Paris sandal.
Dungaree cami metallic white clutch skirt Acne crop silhouette street style. Flats denim shorts midi holographic minimal oversized sweatshirt lilac leggings Lanvin So-Cal. Céline sneaker vintage Levi Saint Laurent ecru. Envelope clutch spearmint Hermès Paris sandal. |
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mortal
with 18 posts
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| it was clear with every page that they were further away from a solution that would play |
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Post by HARPER PHOENIX on Sept 15, 2014 21:12:13 GMT
your heart beats in your throat - it beats and beats and beats - as your eyes skim the note she's just handed you. your throat tightens, you start to panic and your eyes glance around the room.
where are you again?
right, a business meeting.
you take a moment and try to pull yourself together, but you're falling apart at the seams. (this can't be happening, you think and think and think)
you sit for fifteen minutes before you force your feet stand themselves up and your body walks out of the meeting. there's yelling behind you, but people come to your aide. they protect you from the yelling and screams and anger because they know you're consumed with nothing but anxiety and fear.
the elevator dings -
(again and again and again)
- until you're on the first floor.
your feet walk themselves across the tile flooring, outside and into the car. the sleek, black car that you take to the hospital. it matches your suit, your tie, your shoes. it matches the occasion of today, death.
but the hospital is white and you think about how this can't possibly be happening in such a white place. it can't be, it's all lies. you ask for the room number (j... jameson... finch? martinelli? you don't which name he's filed under).
you listen to nothing but your own footsteps as you walk down the hall.
(you walk and walk and walk)
then your at his white door with a silver knob, you turn the knob slowly, hesitating for a moment before you open the door. he's alone, in a white room with white walls under white sheets on a gray bed. he looks up at you, and you dash towards him.
your so careful when you wrap your arms around his battered body, its covered in white bandages and he's in a white hospital gown. you pull away from him in your black suit and smile at him, but then it fades from your face.
he has a look of confusion and fear in his eyes, the eyes you've seen fill with so many other things when they see you and you step backwards when he opens his mouth.
his mouth works in slow motion to you, everything works in slow motion in that very moment.
your body shakes, and your eyes tear up and the doctor comes in. what he says to you is also in slow motion, you thought he was dead but it's so much worse, so so much worse. you wipe your eyes with your black suit and fix your black tie and walk with your black shoes back to your black car.
the black you're wearing in this white hospital clashes. it stands out among the white. you stand out among the families crying tears of joy, the people re-learning to walk, the patients getting better.
they're all wearing white - to celebrate their rebirth - while you... you're wearing black - to mourn your loss.
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