galaxiesfaraway
New Member
My girlfriend was dead, and the woman across from me was smiling. It wasn't a grin, just a slight uptick at the edge of her mouth that let me know she was smiling. She was happy. Olivia had died at 24, taken from me, and this woman was happy. I had found her, you know, dead as a doorknob on the bathroom floor. She was doing her makeup when I heard her collapse. She was dead by the time I had rushed in. I saw her and just knew I'd never get her back.
I had the ring in my pocket, ready to propose that night, and I still have it in my pocket now. I rubbed it with my fingers, trying to calm myself while watching the woman smiling over the love of my life's casket.
The casket lowered into the ground and people came up to me, gave their condolences, then moved on with their day and their lives.
The woman never approached me, just stood there in her black dress and veil, pale hands clasped over a black wallet, staring at the ground.
"What's your problem?" I asked only after everyone else was gone.
She looked surprised. "What's yours? I'm mourning for Olivia, just like you."
"You're fucking smiling as her body is being put in the dirt!" I said, feeling tears come to my eyes but trying to force them back.
She shrugged. "I'm sad she's dead, but this is what she wanted. I did all my crying earlier, and I didn't come here to be judged by people who barely knew her."
"Barely knew her? Barely knew her, yeah right. I've been with her for 3 years, and known her for 6. I've lived with her for a year. I think I know her pretty damn well."
She said one thing in return: "Knew."
And with that one word, the tears came back and I couldn't hold them anymore.
She tried to hug me and I realized a sheen had come over her brown eyes. I pushed her away and turned around, hugging my chest.
"Who are you?" I finally said after I had finished crying.
"I'm Madelyn."
"Yeah, thanks, that clears it up real fucking much."
"Did you know she liked strawberry marshmallows?" She paused to tap my shoulder, turn me to face her. "No, she loved them. When she was sick, that's all she would eat. Strawberry marshmallows and orange soda." She had that faint smile again.
I shook my head. "No, she hated marshmallows. She said one had gotten stuck in her nose when she was kid or something, and hated them."
Madelyn's smile left her face. "Did I ruin them that much for her? I thought, no matter what happened between us, she'd always love them. Honestly, I thought they would bring up good memories of me."
"Stop telling me this shit. You probably don't even know her, you're- you're like the messed up version of a party-crasher."
"Go sit down, Gabriel." She nodded at a stone bench a few yards again.
I paused. This had gone from bizarre, to creepy, within a second. "How do you know who I am?" Maybe she was a stalker. Maybe she had gotten obsessed with Olivia. Her watching us sleeping in our ground-level apartment, seeing us having dance parties late at night when we were a little bit tipsy and newly in love, having fights and making up. I slipped my phone out of my pocket. "I'm gonna call 911 if you don't give me a good answer."
Instead of answering, she knelt down to the ground, gently picking up the ring. "So this is the ring." She stood back up. Dirt had gotten on her dress, but she either didn't care or didn't notice. “This is why she contacted me.”
“What? When did she message you? I don’t even have proof you know her!” I said, putting my hands to my head.
She shook her head, as if disappointed in me. She opened her wallet and pulled out a picture of her and Olivia, sitting together on a beach. I recognized Olivia in this- it was when she still had short hair, wavy and cut above her strong jaw. This had to be around or a little before we started dating. She and this woman were hugging each other, Olivia in a neon yellow bikini and Madelyn in a one piece and blue floppy hat. The main point of interest in the photo- Olivia was being hugged while kissing Madelyn’s cheek.
“What the hell is that? When was this taken? And give me my ring back!” I demanded. She dropped the ring into my palm, reluctantly.
“Go sit down, then I’ll explain Olivia to you.”
I stormed to the bench and sat down. She sat down next to me. “Let me tell you about the night her and I met.”
It was, God, I don’t know, seven, maybe eight years ago. I remember the way she swayed to the music, the way she walked up and tucked her hair behind her ear and asked if she could buy me a drink. She was bold that way, but I’m sure you knew that already.
I was still trying to comprehend this- they had dated. “Are you saying Olivia was gay?”
She laughed. “Men always see things so binary. Did she really have to be gay or straight, and why does it matter? She’s dead and she loved both of us. Just accept that now, so I can tell you why she’s dead.”
Anyway- we went home together that night, and that’s when she showed me her piano skills. They only made her more attractive to me. She stayed for three more days. We talked for hours and spent only a few minutes apart. For the first time in my life, I fell in love. Olivia is an enigma. Well. Is for me, was for you. I play the cello, by the way. Her and I both have the same tendency to fall into a depression, to feel either nothing or only pain. We made some beautiful music. If you dig through her stuff, I’m sure she still has the CDs.
I knew exactly what music she was talking about. Late at night, when Olivia thought I was asleep, she would sneak out of the bed and listen to it in the living room. It was haunting. Something that plays in a drama movie when the main characters sob and die over something that could have been avoided. It seemed private, so why bother asking about something she might be sensitive over? Her mom had died when she was young, I figured it was related to that.
We went on for two years that way before it got bad. I made the first mistake: I cheated on her. It’s something I’ll regret for eternity. Olivia is my one, and I had to mess it up. When she found out, she screamed and cried and threatened to leave me. She left for a week, and when she came back, I got her all of her comfort foods. Bags of strawberry marshmallows, salt & vinegar chips, and orange soda. Not just the ones you see at the store, I found the glass bottle, cream soda, fancy ones. I was stupid. I thought we would play chubby bunny like usual and it would all go back to normal. She got home and she screamed some more. She threw a bottle at the wall. The glass shattered and orange liquid dripped down the wall. She sat down and sobbed for an hour. I held her. To this day, I’m amazed she let me even touch her.
She paused, looking down at her fingers. I noticed there was a ring there. It was simple, just a thin iron band with a garnet in it.
So that was the first mistake. Fights about anything and everything occurred after that- who didn’t wash the dishes, who forgot to pay the utilities bill (it was her), and everything. Then she decided she was moving. To Florida. That’s where the photo is from. She told me I could either come with her or never see her again, so of course, I came. And finally, our relationship started to feel normal. We were away from the brutal heat of Texas. The dry heat worsens things, compounds anger, I think. We began making music again. I could look her in the eye and hear her deft fingers moving over piano keys, instead of hearing her shouts. Gabriel, you know her too. You know she didn’t mean it when she shouted, she was just emotional.
I nodded. Olivia was loud in general, and with a quick temper, those didn’t match well. I had never seen her thrown things, though, and I’m glad I never did. I can’t see her doing it. I can’t put the two images of violence and Olivia together.
But hate and love are too close together. She hated me and she loved me. I hated her, for being this stubborn, angry person, but I loved her too much to let her go. Maybe she let her anger go when she let me go. I don’t know. That picture was taken within the first few months of us living there.
Olivia and I had met at work. She was a junior architect, and I was- am- one of the marketing guys for the company. The buildings speak for themselves, but who is going to yell to get people to look at them in the first place? Everyone knew she was from Texas, her accent was adorable. I sighed deeply. I never even knew she had a partner before me, much less a girlfriend. She talked about partners like they were from years ago.
“Was she talking to me when you guys were dating?” I was looking at the photo, and that’s the only way I could figure things out.
Madelyn nodded. “It was her way of getting back at me.” She bit her lip. “You’re not going to like the ending of this story. No one ever does. Not just now, but in general. We all know we’re in a story, but it has to end, and no one likes it.”
“Just get to it. If you know why she died, I need to know. For closure.”
That’s when I got sick. We were doing so good. Maybe you noticed Olivia stopped talking to you for a few months. That’s when this all happened. It was our 5th anniversary when she proposed to me.
She held out her hand. “This is the ring.”
I have never been happier in my life. I will never not love Olivia, no matter what fights we have. The day after we got engaged, I went to the doctor. I had been having these horrible headaches for a month, and she kept bugging me to go. Finally, she said ‘If you’re going to marry me, you’d better listen to me’. So I went. The day after I was ready to marry her, I was diagnosed with a brain tumor. The worst part is, it’s a slow death. I was in pain and I was changing. It feels like our personalities are so solidified, so unique, but my tumor changed me. I was angrier, more passive. She noticed. She cried. A lot. We both knew I would die, so we made an agreement. We wouldn’t get married yet. We would wait. I never wanted to let the tumor take me, I wanted to die my own way. She didn’t want to die yet. And I would never force her to die for me. I know she would, if I asked, but I wouldn’t. Couldn’t. She wanted a few more years out of life. She wanted more fun. I can’t blame her. I let her. I told her to go and enjoy her life. She told me that one day, she’d come to me. One day she would know it was right to return to me. I believed her. Olivia never lied. She held my hand, squeezed it to her chest then kissed it. ‘I’m always going to love you, Madelyn, but I’m always going to need breaks. To be free. Let me take this break, then I’ll be with you. I promise.’ Those words are etched into my mind, because they were the first time she had made me cry like that. Every other time had been out of anger or fear that we were going to end. This time, it was because I knew she’d always love me. I’m sorry, I know she loved you, but not the same way she loved me.
By this point, I was openly crying. My girlfriend, the woman I thought I would love forever, never loved me as passionately as she did Madelyn. I always knew I loved her more. I didn’t realize Olivia could give any more love, that she was at maximum. Instead, she just had part of her love somewhere else. The ring in my pocket seemed to burn.
So we found some occult books. After enough books, we finally found one that worked. We made sure it worked on little things first- little spells to move pencils, spells to instantly heat a pot of water up- and decided this was the one we’d trust. The spell was deceptively simple. Look into each other’s eyes over a pot of boiling water while each person slowly picks petals off a flower and puts them in the pot. Each person has to memorize a chant and say it during this.
After we finished, we knew we were linked. It’s the hardest feeling. You feel so, so drawn to the person you just soul-linked with, and when the go away, it’s painful. Part of you is leaving. The book said this linking would allow us to interact between worlds, between the spirit world and the living. We agreed to rarely do it though. The book warned that enough times would weaken the living person’s soul, and they could get stuck between the two. So that was it. I would die, and someday, she’d contact me, and I would come pull her soul from her body and back to me.
“So you killed her?!” I stood up.
She waved for me to sit back down. “Calm down. Jesus, you’re almost as bad as she is.”
I sat.
So I killed myself. Sleeping pills. They’re surprisingly easy to get. It was an easy death. She sat in my bed. We had that favorite combo of hers (after a long enough time of dating, I loved the combo too, it made me think of her) and I swallowed the pills with every sip of soda. She held me and cried, and I fell asleep in her arms. I think I died smiling. She wasn’t.
“What are you saying?” I grabbed her hand. “You’re flesh and blood. That’s it. I’m calling 911. I don’t know who you are, but you did something to her.”
She shook her head even as I began dialing.
The afterlife isn’t that bad. But it’s boring unless you have someone to love you. I drifted, waiting for her. I was directionless without Olivia. Then, a few weeks ago, she contacted me. She found your ring in your bedstand. She’s nosy, you should have hidden it better. She told me it was time to come back to me before things got too serious in this life for her. She was upset, I could tell. She did love you.
The line picked up. “Hello? I have a woman here and I think she might have killed my girlfriend.”
“Where is your emergency?” The responder asked.
I wanted to give her time. The linking of our souls is the only reason I can take her, so don’t worry. You can’t just be taken.
“We’re at Five Oaks Cemetery. Please hurry.” I asked, keeping an eye on this woman who I was now convinced is crazy. I don’t know how she did it, but I knew she had played a part in taking Olivia from me.
The linking between our souls is like a loose string. I tug on it hard enough, and she comes falling down. I did that, and I guess you found her. I’m sorry you found her. But her leaving your life means she is entering mine again. I made this visit just to give you closure. Olivia didn’t want me to. But I thought you needed it.
I heard sirens getting closer.
I need Olivia. You don’t. Without Olivia, I forget myself. She guides me and helps me stay myself. You don’t need that, I can tell. I wish you luck in love and life.
With that, she stood up. I desperately looked for the cops that I knew were coming. She was casually walking away, towards the woods. I turned to look for the cops. She wasn’t there when I looked back, but the cops had made their way onto the scene 30 seconds too late.
“We’re responding to a report about a murderer. Where is she?”
“She ran into the woods.” As they ran off, I knew they would never find her.
I rubbed the ring in my pocket.
I had the ring in my pocket, ready to propose that night, and I still have it in my pocket now. I rubbed it with my fingers, trying to calm myself while watching the woman smiling over the love of my life's casket.
The casket lowered into the ground and people came up to me, gave their condolences, then moved on with their day and their lives.
The woman never approached me, just stood there in her black dress and veil, pale hands clasped over a black wallet, staring at the ground.
"What's your problem?" I asked only after everyone else was gone.
She looked surprised. "What's yours? I'm mourning for Olivia, just like you."
"You're fucking smiling as her body is being put in the dirt!" I said, feeling tears come to my eyes but trying to force them back.
She shrugged. "I'm sad she's dead, but this is what she wanted. I did all my crying earlier, and I didn't come here to be judged by people who barely knew her."
"Barely knew her? Barely knew her, yeah right. I've been with her for 3 years, and known her for 6. I've lived with her for a year. I think I know her pretty damn well."
She said one thing in return: "Knew."
And with that one word, the tears came back and I couldn't hold them anymore.
She tried to hug me and I realized a sheen had come over her brown eyes. I pushed her away and turned around, hugging my chest.
"Who are you?" I finally said after I had finished crying.
"I'm Madelyn."
"Yeah, thanks, that clears it up real fucking much."
"Did you know she liked strawberry marshmallows?" She paused to tap my shoulder, turn me to face her. "No, she loved them. When she was sick, that's all she would eat. Strawberry marshmallows and orange soda." She had that faint smile again.
I shook my head. "No, she hated marshmallows. She said one had gotten stuck in her nose when she was kid or something, and hated them."
Madelyn's smile left her face. "Did I ruin them that much for her? I thought, no matter what happened between us, she'd always love them. Honestly, I thought they would bring up good memories of me."
"Stop telling me this shit. You probably don't even know her, you're- you're like the messed up version of a party-crasher."
"Go sit down, Gabriel." She nodded at a stone bench a few yards again.
I paused. This had gone from bizarre, to creepy, within a second. "How do you know who I am?" Maybe she was a stalker. Maybe she had gotten obsessed with Olivia. Her watching us sleeping in our ground-level apartment, seeing us having dance parties late at night when we were a little bit tipsy and newly in love, having fights and making up. I slipped my phone out of my pocket. "I'm gonna call 911 if you don't give me a good answer."
Instead of answering, she knelt down to the ground, gently picking up the ring. "So this is the ring." She stood back up. Dirt had gotten on her dress, but she either didn't care or didn't notice. “This is why she contacted me.”
“What? When did she message you? I don’t even have proof you know her!” I said, putting my hands to my head.
She shook her head, as if disappointed in me. She opened her wallet and pulled out a picture of her and Olivia, sitting together on a beach. I recognized Olivia in this- it was when she still had short hair, wavy and cut above her strong jaw. This had to be around or a little before we started dating. She and this woman were hugging each other, Olivia in a neon yellow bikini and Madelyn in a one piece and blue floppy hat. The main point of interest in the photo- Olivia was being hugged while kissing Madelyn’s cheek.
“What the hell is that? When was this taken? And give me my ring back!” I demanded. She dropped the ring into my palm, reluctantly.
“Go sit down, then I’ll explain Olivia to you.”
I stormed to the bench and sat down. She sat down next to me. “Let me tell you about the night her and I met.”
It was, God, I don’t know, seven, maybe eight years ago. I remember the way she swayed to the music, the way she walked up and tucked her hair behind her ear and asked if she could buy me a drink. She was bold that way, but I’m sure you knew that already.
I was still trying to comprehend this- they had dated. “Are you saying Olivia was gay?”
She laughed. “Men always see things so binary. Did she really have to be gay or straight, and why does it matter? She’s dead and she loved both of us. Just accept that now, so I can tell you why she’s dead.”
Anyway- we went home together that night, and that’s when she showed me her piano skills. They only made her more attractive to me. She stayed for three more days. We talked for hours and spent only a few minutes apart. For the first time in my life, I fell in love. Olivia is an enigma. Well. Is for me, was for you. I play the cello, by the way. Her and I both have the same tendency to fall into a depression, to feel either nothing or only pain. We made some beautiful music. If you dig through her stuff, I’m sure she still has the CDs.
I knew exactly what music she was talking about. Late at night, when Olivia thought I was asleep, she would sneak out of the bed and listen to it in the living room. It was haunting. Something that plays in a drama movie when the main characters sob and die over something that could have been avoided. It seemed private, so why bother asking about something she might be sensitive over? Her mom had died when she was young, I figured it was related to that.
We went on for two years that way before it got bad. I made the first mistake: I cheated on her. It’s something I’ll regret for eternity. Olivia is my one, and I had to mess it up. When she found out, she screamed and cried and threatened to leave me. She left for a week, and when she came back, I got her all of her comfort foods. Bags of strawberry marshmallows, salt & vinegar chips, and orange soda. Not just the ones you see at the store, I found the glass bottle, cream soda, fancy ones. I was stupid. I thought we would play chubby bunny like usual and it would all go back to normal. She got home and she screamed some more. She threw a bottle at the wall. The glass shattered and orange liquid dripped down the wall. She sat down and sobbed for an hour. I held her. To this day, I’m amazed she let me even touch her.
She paused, looking down at her fingers. I noticed there was a ring there. It was simple, just a thin iron band with a garnet in it.
So that was the first mistake. Fights about anything and everything occurred after that- who didn’t wash the dishes, who forgot to pay the utilities bill (it was her), and everything. Then she decided she was moving. To Florida. That’s where the photo is from. She told me I could either come with her or never see her again, so of course, I came. And finally, our relationship started to feel normal. We were away from the brutal heat of Texas. The dry heat worsens things, compounds anger, I think. We began making music again. I could look her in the eye and hear her deft fingers moving over piano keys, instead of hearing her shouts. Gabriel, you know her too. You know she didn’t mean it when she shouted, she was just emotional.
I nodded. Olivia was loud in general, and with a quick temper, those didn’t match well. I had never seen her thrown things, though, and I’m glad I never did. I can’t see her doing it. I can’t put the two images of violence and Olivia together.
But hate and love are too close together. She hated me and she loved me. I hated her, for being this stubborn, angry person, but I loved her too much to let her go. Maybe she let her anger go when she let me go. I don’t know. That picture was taken within the first few months of us living there.
Olivia and I had met at work. She was a junior architect, and I was- am- one of the marketing guys for the company. The buildings speak for themselves, but who is going to yell to get people to look at them in the first place? Everyone knew she was from Texas, her accent was adorable. I sighed deeply. I never even knew she had a partner before me, much less a girlfriend. She talked about partners like they were from years ago.
“Was she talking to me when you guys were dating?” I was looking at the photo, and that’s the only way I could figure things out.
Madelyn nodded. “It was her way of getting back at me.” She bit her lip. “You’re not going to like the ending of this story. No one ever does. Not just now, but in general. We all know we’re in a story, but it has to end, and no one likes it.”
“Just get to it. If you know why she died, I need to know. For closure.”
That’s when I got sick. We were doing so good. Maybe you noticed Olivia stopped talking to you for a few months. That’s when this all happened. It was our 5th anniversary when she proposed to me.
She held out her hand. “This is the ring.”
I have never been happier in my life. I will never not love Olivia, no matter what fights we have. The day after we got engaged, I went to the doctor. I had been having these horrible headaches for a month, and she kept bugging me to go. Finally, she said ‘If you’re going to marry me, you’d better listen to me’. So I went. The day after I was ready to marry her, I was diagnosed with a brain tumor. The worst part is, it’s a slow death. I was in pain and I was changing. It feels like our personalities are so solidified, so unique, but my tumor changed me. I was angrier, more passive. She noticed. She cried. A lot. We both knew I would die, so we made an agreement. We wouldn’t get married yet. We would wait. I never wanted to let the tumor take me, I wanted to die my own way. She didn’t want to die yet. And I would never force her to die for me. I know she would, if I asked, but I wouldn’t. Couldn’t. She wanted a few more years out of life. She wanted more fun. I can’t blame her. I let her. I told her to go and enjoy her life. She told me that one day, she’d come to me. One day she would know it was right to return to me. I believed her. Olivia never lied. She held my hand, squeezed it to her chest then kissed it. ‘I’m always going to love you, Madelyn, but I’m always going to need breaks. To be free. Let me take this break, then I’ll be with you. I promise.’ Those words are etched into my mind, because they were the first time she had made me cry like that. Every other time had been out of anger or fear that we were going to end. This time, it was because I knew she’d always love me. I’m sorry, I know she loved you, but not the same way she loved me.
By this point, I was openly crying. My girlfriend, the woman I thought I would love forever, never loved me as passionately as she did Madelyn. I always knew I loved her more. I didn’t realize Olivia could give any more love, that she was at maximum. Instead, she just had part of her love somewhere else. The ring in my pocket seemed to burn.
So we found some occult books. After enough books, we finally found one that worked. We made sure it worked on little things first- little spells to move pencils, spells to instantly heat a pot of water up- and decided this was the one we’d trust. The spell was deceptively simple. Look into each other’s eyes over a pot of boiling water while each person slowly picks petals off a flower and puts them in the pot. Each person has to memorize a chant and say it during this.
After we finished, we knew we were linked. It’s the hardest feeling. You feel so, so drawn to the person you just soul-linked with, and when the go away, it’s painful. Part of you is leaving. The book said this linking would allow us to interact between worlds, between the spirit world and the living. We agreed to rarely do it though. The book warned that enough times would weaken the living person’s soul, and they could get stuck between the two. So that was it. I would die, and someday, she’d contact me, and I would come pull her soul from her body and back to me.
“So you killed her?!” I stood up.
She waved for me to sit back down. “Calm down. Jesus, you’re almost as bad as she is.”
I sat.
So I killed myself. Sleeping pills. They’re surprisingly easy to get. It was an easy death. She sat in my bed. We had that favorite combo of hers (after a long enough time of dating, I loved the combo too, it made me think of her) and I swallowed the pills with every sip of soda. She held me and cried, and I fell asleep in her arms. I think I died smiling. She wasn’t.
“What are you saying?” I grabbed her hand. “You’re flesh and blood. That’s it. I’m calling 911. I don’t know who you are, but you did something to her.”
She shook her head even as I began dialing.
The afterlife isn’t that bad. But it’s boring unless you have someone to love you. I drifted, waiting for her. I was directionless without Olivia. Then, a few weeks ago, she contacted me. She found your ring in your bedstand. She’s nosy, you should have hidden it better. She told me it was time to come back to me before things got too serious in this life for her. She was upset, I could tell. She did love you.
The line picked up. “Hello? I have a woman here and I think she might have killed my girlfriend.”
“Where is your emergency?” The responder asked.
I wanted to give her time. The linking of our souls is the only reason I can take her, so don’t worry. You can’t just be taken.
“We’re at Five Oaks Cemetery. Please hurry.” I asked, keeping an eye on this woman who I was now convinced is crazy. I don’t know how she did it, but I knew she had played a part in taking Olivia from me.
The linking between our souls is like a loose string. I tug on it hard enough, and she comes falling down. I did that, and I guess you found her. I’m sorry you found her. But her leaving your life means she is entering mine again. I made this visit just to give you closure. Olivia didn’t want me to. But I thought you needed it.
I heard sirens getting closer.
I need Olivia. You don’t. Without Olivia, I forget myself. She guides me and helps me stay myself. You don’t need that, I can tell. I wish you luck in love and life.
With that, she stood up. I desperately looked for the cops that I knew were coming. She was casually walking away, towards the woods. I turned to look for the cops. She wasn’t there when I looked back, but the cops had made their way onto the scene 30 seconds too late.
“We’re responding to a report about a murderer. Where is she?”
“She ran into the woods.” As they ran off, I knew they would never find her.
I rubbed the ring in my pocket.
