It was different than I thought it'd be. Maybe that was just because it hadn't been me. This was colder, sadder than I'd anticipated. What could I possibly do now? I felt as if there was nothing I'd ever be able to do again. Time had simply stopped around us. But I could see it moving on past us in ghost-like wisps of air. Couldn't have been sure if that made me more upset. Perhaps it didn't, as the tears didn't change. These were for hurting, heartbreak. Not anger or resentment. That's just what time was meant to do, continue on while the rest of us sit and wallow in our inferior existence.
I could feel my gaze fall to the floor again. Somehow I ended up standing right over her, though I don't remember when I'd gotten there. For a fleeting moment, I could hear and see it wasn't real. But it was and so the tears came again. It was nice to know that even my logical brain was being thrown out of whack. Yet the little relief that granted me meant nothing, so why was I dwelling on it for even a second. I wanted a distraction, but I fought to keep focused. What do I have to do now. Nowhere in the garbled, stained and illegible handbook of life did it mention anything about how to deal with something like this. It may have been an hour before my body moved to call the police.
"Hello, this is Sara with 911, what's your emergency?"
"This is a non-emergency call. I need a coroner sent to my home."
I hoped I sounded as calm and eloquent as I perceived myself to be. For the life of me, I couldn't be bothered to check myself for what was said during the rest of the call, but I thanked the dispatcher and hung up. Stuck again. My brain can't decide what it wants to do next. Can barely run the basic programming of pumping blood, breathing air, keeping my body up off the ground. It might be better down there, I thought for a fleeting moment. Beside her for the last time.
The sensation of kneeling shook me to attention. Did she look any different? The illusion was returning. I could swear her back was moving with the gentle rise and fall of her breath. I could hear the small vibrating sighs she let out when she was thinking. I could have sworn I'd panicked for nothing. I could tell myself I was experiencing this mental breakdown for nothing. Again. I could see I was wrong. I could see the color gone from her eyes. I could feel the almost unnatural stiffness in her arm when I touched her. I could feel the cold-the lack of life's warmth.
I can't remember a time where I didn't associate death with the feeling of relief. But here I sat, strength leaving me. I wanted the relief to come but it didn't. I wanted to lie there too. Maybe instead. The tears wouldn't stop. Not that I really wanted them to. I deserve this pain. More than this even. Heartache was hard, but I wanted more, craved it. I'd have killed myself above her if the police hadn't arrived. I don't know how they'd have gotten inside the house. Even as Coria knelt beside me, her beautiful face paled and wet with tears, I couldn't figure out why they would take her away from me.
She was my world, and I took her for granted. She raised me, and all I gave as thanks were sarcastic snappy remarks to her genuine concern. She gave up so much for me and I couldn't even have been there when she needed me most. She wouldn't let me die with her, and I hated her for it. She was the only thing I had to give a damn about in this world, and it stole her from my ignorant hands.
Death was different than I'd thought it'd be. And maybe, that's just because it hadn't been me.