The Journal By Alex Nelson Prelude
Emptiness ... Sorrow ... Anger ... Pain. Which words could describe a loss? Nothing could.
The man looked at the woman lying all tangled in the bed sheets and frowned. It was still dark and quiet in the room, the only light coming through the open bathroom door, the only sound from light rain against the window. He could tell that her sleep had been restless again, just like it was most nights now. It had been over four months and there was still no change in the woman. The man tried to start a conversation but the only woman turned her head away while he spoke.
"I have an idea! Lets get dressed up and go out tonight. You pick the place. Go shopping and pick out a nice dress," he said as handed her a credit card and kissed her goodbye on the side of her cheek.
After the man left the woman looked at the credit card in her hand, then dropped it on the floor. She slid back under the sheets and started to cry softly . Her stomach growled when she rolled over onto it, then she rolled onto to her back again. As the growling increased, she started to gently rub her stomach, not because she suddenly felt hungry, but because of the emptiness she felt inside.
After about 30 minutes of crying and of feeling afraid to close her eyes to sleep, she rolled onto her side and sat up. She slipped her feet into her slippers and put on a robe to walk downstairs. The familiar anxiety built up inside her when she passed the door to that room. She had to fight the craving to enter the room, the yearning to go inside and look, to see if everything had just been a bad dream. She reached for the doorknob and her hands suddenly started trembling, a wave of nausea rising inside her. It became so overwhelming that she released the doorknob and ran to the bathroom, emptying whatever was left in she stomach into the tub. She laid there clinging to the side of the tub, her face resting on the bath mat that was always hung over the side.
She awoke to the sound of the doorbell ringing. After wiping her face with a wet towel she checked in the mirror to look for the tell-tale signs of her sadness. Many people had come to visit, and she now know how to appear as if everything was alright even though it was not..
As she made her way down stairs, she didn't recognize the young man standing at the door and approached cautiously, opening the door slowly.
"Yes? Can I help you?"
"Ah, Hi. I'm Heath," the young man said with a sad smile. As the woman looked at the young man she started to feel calm, almost tranquil. She felt as if she had met this young man before and had known him for a very long time, only she knew she had never meet him or seen him before today.
"Have I meet you before, Heath?"
"Heath Finnkley. No you haven't maam," he said her while looking down at his feet. She had the feeling that he was quite shy..
"But it feels like I know you, like I've met you before. Won't you come in?" she asked with a smile.
The young man looked up at her, appearing to be on the verge of tears. "No, I ... I can't. I only came to give you this," He said as he handed her a box just slightly larger than a shoe box. A tear leaked from his eye and slowly rolled down his cheek.
He turned abruptly and walked quickly to his car, backing out of the driveway and into the street. Ignoring the rain, the woman walked up the driveway towards and watched him pull into the street and drive away. The feeling of emptiness quickly returned, though not as strongly as it had been earlier. She wondered who the young man was and what he had delivered in the box
She went back inside, picking up the box and carrying it into the kitchen with feelings of curiosity and anticipation. She placed the box on the counter and opened it. Inside was a black leather bound book, and on the front were the words: My Journal..
The woman took the box into the living room and sat on the sofa, opening the Journal. There was a note inside:
I hope this will help to answer some of your questions and also help you to heal from the lost of the most beautiful person that I have ever known and loved.
Heath Finnkley
A smile came to her face as she read the note. She continued to search inside the box, and underneath the Journal she found a few pictures.
"Oh My God!"
She dropped the box and when it hit the floor all of the pictures fell out, spreading at her feet.