|Who We Were
Author: Seabass4supernatural PM
I remember asking him once if we could take a picture of the lake to bring home. He shook his head, saying that a picture wouldn't do it justice. I look back now and I couldn't agree more. A picture couldn't capture the way the evening sun's rays filled you with warmth, or the way the sunset's reflection on the water's glassy surface made your breath catch in your throat...Rated: Fiction T - English - Friendship/Drama - Words: 889 - Reviews: 2 - Favs: 2 - Updated: 03-08-13 - Published: 01-09-13 - id: 3090754
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Who We Were
It was an eight-hour drive to the lake from Roanoke. Back when I was a kid, I'd made the drive at least twice a year with my uncle, so I was used to it. Granted, it was still a long drive, even back then, but we passed the time joking around, having cheerful conversations about nothing, and jamming out to his country CDs. So the hours flew by and before I knew it, we'd pull up to the cabin, just in time to sit back on the hood of his Jeep and watch the sun go down. We'd stare, amazed at different shades of orange, red, blue, and violet displayed together so perfectly above us.
I remember asking him once if we could take a picture of the lake to bring home. He shook his head, saying that a picture wouldn't do it justice. I look back now and I couldn't agree more. A picture wouldn't do the memory justice. It wouldn't capture the way the evening sun's rays had filled me with warmth, or the way that sunset's reflection on the water's glassy surface made my breath catch in my throat. A mere image couldn't replicate how a gesture as simple as my uncle putting his hand on my shoulder that Friday afternoon and telling me he was coming back could bring me comfort, making it seem, for a little while, that my world wasn't falling apart.
Even years later, I carried those moments with me, as proof that pure and utter perfection can, indeed, exist in this word. On the other hand, everything just seemed so much easier that it just felt like another life entirely. The memories were almost surreal, as if I were trying to recall and hold on to the details of a really good dream. When I was in these nostalgic moods, a majority of the time I'd find myself thinking, "How could that have been my life? How could things have been so simple?" Then again, so much had happened since then that it just didn't seem possible that it was truly my life I was remembering…
It was the Sunday after my eighteenth birthday at sunset when I pulled up to that cabin for the first time in almost five years. I couldn't help but think back to all those good times my uncle and I shared together all those years ago. I felt a sad smile tugging at my lips when I heard George Strait's Love Without End, Amen come on the radio. Before I knew it, I began singing along the best I could, my voice breaking every so often.
"When dad got home I told that story just like I'd rehearsed.
And then stood there on those tremblin' knees and waited for the worst.
And he said, "Let me tell you a secret about a father's love,
A secret that my daddy said was just between us."
I was halfway through the second verse when I spotted the handgun sitting on the empty passenger's seat. A heavy feeling weighed down on my chest as I remembered the reason I'd come back to the lake after all this time. My voice caught in my throat as I reached for the gun, the comforting feeling from the song all but forgotten. I felt the familiar burning sensation in the corners of my eyes as I switched off the safety. This is it, I thought, lifting it into my open mouth, and feeling the cold metal of the barrel on my tongue.
"Last night I dreamed I died and stood outside those pearly gates.
When suddenly I realized there must be some mistake.
If they know half the things I've done, they'll never let me in.
And then somewhere from the other side I heard these words again."
Hot tears spilled onto my cheeks as I took one last look at the cabin, almost seeing the three of us loading our fishing poles into my uncle's boat.
"And They said, "Let me tell you a secret about a father's love,
A secret that my daddy said was just between us."
I closed my eyes tightly, picturing that last sunset clearly, remembering the way he ruffled my hair and told me he loved me before he said goodbye and stepped onto that bus, before he went to the one place I couldn't follow.
"You see Daddies don't just love their children every now and then.
It's a love without end, amen, it's a love without end, amen."
I forced the thought from my head and took a last shallow breath of fresh air, exhaled slowly through my nose, and pulled the trigger…
A/N: So, guys, I know it's short, but you have absolutely no idea how difficult it was to write this. I swear, no matter what I wrote, it just didn't sound right, you know? Sigh, anyways, thanks for reading and if you can, leave me a comment telling me what you thought. Thanks, and if any of you want me to look at your stories, just hit me with a private message.