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Wanting Courtney

Wanting Courtney

A Story by Emily

Her long blonde hair fell into her face as she stared at the grave, the dying rose still in hand. With her imagination, she stared through the ground, to see the body of her girlfriend, covered in bruises, and on her neck, a mark, burned into her skin.
A Swastika.
She still remember the call, the call in nobody wants to get. The call in the middle of the night from the morgue. They wanted to I.D her body. She almost got a ticket on the way to the morgue in fact. She laughed at the thought. Such Irony.
When she saw the condition of the body, she burst into tears, grabbing her girlfriends face, and draping her sobbing frame over it.
“Courtney! Why Courtney! Why did it have to be you? You were always so young, so pure! Why not me? I deserve to be on this table, not you! You deserve to live!”
The coroner patted her shoulder reassuringly” We’ll catch this b*****d don’t worry”
She stood here, covered in tears, her makeup smeared so much it covered her face. She was gone. Her Courtney was gone. Her shining star, the colors to her rainbow.
She was her everything. Her eyes were as red with tears as her heart was broken with pain as she fell to her knees on the soft earth, snapping pout of her memory. They caught the b*****d, but it as no consolation. They even gave her a few minutes alone with him. It was no help either. The b*****d was as heartless as Hitler. There was no other consolation prize to be had. She had lost the game of love.
She had no reason to live, but no need to kill herself. If she wanted pain, she would stay alive most certainly the pain of having Courtney to tell her goodnight, tickle her toes, kiss her on the nose. That was certainly pain enough. She wanted to kill the b*****d even more now that he was dead. It would be a bitter sweet victory, but a victory none the less.
She wanted to forget the world.
Se wanted to start over, but more than anything,
She wanted Courtney.
She wanted peace of mind. She hadn’t slept in four days. The days flew by so fast though. It seemed as if it was only today she got the call.
She didn’t want to sleep though.
Right before she got the call, she awoke form a nightmare. It was a vivid picture of Courtney running from a male figure who hustled behind her.
She had to find a way to get to Courtney, and this pistol was her savior.
As she pulled the trigger with her left hand, the rose Courtney had given her only days ago still in her hand, she could see Courtney smiling at her, her arms open, calling her home.

© 2009 Emily


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This is a very sad story, I think you portrayed it quite well. It has a touch of drama to it that I like, but its also quite sad. I don't think feelings of anger and revenge are the solution, they would only make the pain worse. I take this from the stanza:

"She wanted to kill the b*****d even more now that he was dead. It would be a bitter sweet victory, but a victory none the less."

In doing this, does this not make us no different from the perpetrator himself? And it still wouldn't bring back Courtney, anyway. One can only hold on to the beautiful memories of her:

"If she wanted pain, she would stay alive most certainly the pain of having Courtney to tell her goodnight, tickle her toes, kiss her on the nose."

Such as the above. I actually liked that stanza, after all its the little things that matter in life.

Truly sorry for what happened to Courtney, no one should have to go through such an experience.




Posted 11 Years Ago



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Added on May 15, 2009

Author

Emily
Emily

MO



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Been Writing all of my life, but my friend Lynda showed me this website, so I joined, because lynda is smart when it comes to places to post your writing. more..

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