It means more to me

Just a short story from a writing prompt. I was going for strong emotions to be brought forward from the reader.

It means more to me.  She thought of his words once more.  She tried to think of the context in which they were whispered to her.  But try as she might she couldn’t quite place it.

The words had come to her ears so long ago, so many years now had passed.  Perhaps had she thought of it more then?  But how could she?  After all who can think of those words when she had come upon the scene?

Sara tried to clear her mind of the mess once more.  She could feel the silent tears slipping down her face.  The memories of so long ago coming back to haunt her again.  It had been a few weeks since the past time.

She smiled slightly, it was a bittersweet smile that crossed her face.  What could she have done differently?  She wasn’t sure, but what she had done was the wrong thing.  A deep sob hit her hard in the middle of the chest.

        “He’s dead because of me.”  She cried out.

It wasn’t the first time in her life that she had said the words, or felt the pain.  They seemed like a part of her now.  How could she ever move on from this?  Was it even possible?  Her friends and family seemed to think so, but Sara, she wasn’t so sure.

        “You have to get out, do things.”  Those words had been said to her more than once.

        “One day it will seem better.”  Another nice phrase she’d heard more than once in the past ten years. 

        “When?  When will that day come?”  She said aloud.  Sara knew there was no answer coming to her.  She’d asked this question many times as well.  Not only out loud and alone, but to her friends and family.  All she would ever get was a shrug of shoulders, or a sigh, but no words, no answers.

Now here she sat once more, another morning, another day, and wondered.  How in the hell do I move on from him?  How do I make it on my own?  She laughed bitterly at the thoughts and shook her head.

Sara looked to the sky and tried to ask God once more.  However, like many other times it was meant with more silence.  She had lost her faith when she lost Garrett.  It had yet to come back to her.

More than one time she had thought of drowning her sorrows in a bottle of any type of liquor.  Another bitter laugh escaped her lips, “If I didn’t hate the taste of that crap so much I might really do it!” 

In the last ten years she had these same exact thoughts almost every single morning.  The more she thought of Garrett, the more she missed him.  Sara felt her grip slipping on reality once more, she just wanted to drown in anything false and fake.  She couldn’t stand the reality of her situation anymore.

She looked around for something to take her mind off of him.  Why hadn’t she thrown away all the reminders of him?  Why had she kept him so close for so long?  She felt like she was drowning in a pool of sorrow and grief. 

The shudders overwhelmed her as the tears began to pour from her eyes harder.  “I miss you so much Garrett, why did you have to leave me?”  The words came out broken, between the sobs that racked her body.

Sara shuddered as she saw the scene for what felt like the millionth time since that day.  The day she had come home from work to find Garrett, his lifeless body in the bedroom.  The shotgun lie on the bed beside him.  But that wasn’t what she had noticed first.   Now she tried to fight the memory, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to hold it back for long.

The blood and brains they were everywhere, spread across the back wall and even on the ceiling.  She yelled loudly and jumped on Garrett, trying to find a pulse.  Sara had to laugh now, how had she even thought there was a chance he was still breathing?

The carnage had been intense, was still shocking in her memories.  She felt like she was back in the bedroom with him.  Felt like the nightmare had swallowed her up fully now.  She was trapped and didn’t know if her mind could survive another time or playing this through.

She heard her sobs as they tried to wake her up out of this loop.  Felt the warm sting of the tears as they pelted her face and dripped down to her lap. 

        “Why Garrett?  Why did you do this?”  She asked his dead body, the same as she had that day.  No answer, nothing.  What she wouldn’t have given to go back and not have left for work that morning.  She should have stayed home, been with him.  Could she have stopped him? 

Sara knew it was something she would never know.  She sobbed now for her loss, the love of her life, lying dead in a pool of his own blood.  The back of his head had been gone, she noticed when she had cradled his head in her arms and rocked his body back and forth.

Her sobs had rocked her to her core, the loss like something she could never imagine she would have had to feel.  Sara knew that her life would never be the same, and a lot of her wished she had the courage to pick up the gun and do herself in as well.  That way she could be wherever Garrett was.

She didn’t know how long she had sat there that day holding his dead body and rocking him.  More than once she had wished she could pick up the gun, but she was a coward.  Sara didn’t want to die, but she didn’t want to live either.  Her life, her love, her everything was dead in her arms.

The ache was strong as she tried to pull herself from the nightmare again.  Sadly there was a part of her that wanted to stay.  At least this way she could see him, his face, though lifeless.  She could feel his skin, but it was clammy and cold, the stiffness moving into his dead body already.

He must have killed himself minutes after she had left that morning.  Sara sobbed once more, “Why did I leave?  How did I miss the signs?” 

She opened her eyes and refocused on the room around her now.  Sara looked down at her hands, still feeling the blood there, but knowing there was none.  She rubbed her hands together and wished she could touch Garrett once more.

Sara knew she was letting herself slowly die, she had shut herself off from the world that day.  Love was not something she even cared to find, it hurt far too badly.  When you loved someone, they could kill you with actions.  Or they could kill themselves and make you wish for death, she laughed bitterly.

Garrett had ruined her that day for love.  Sara wanted nothing to do with another human being.  She barely communicated with her friends and family after that.  The only reason she did now was because they would invade her home.

No it wasn’t Sara seeking them out.  Hell she just wanted to sit alone and die.  More than one time she had went to the garage and pulled out the same shotgun he had killed himself with; maybe one day she’d use it.

Soon she wouldn’t have a choice but to go out into the world again.  The life insurance was running out, and she wouldn’t be able to pay the bills on anything but money.  She dreaded the thought of getting back into the workforce. 

By her estimations, she would have to find a job in the next month.  If not she would be left homeless.  A smirk crossed her face as she wondered how quickly she could perish if she was on the streets. 

Her luck she wouldn’t even be able to die out there.  For some reason she was left here, running through the nightmare of her past 10 years every day.  Did God hate her?  She really had to wonder.  Why couldn’t he just allow her to die? 

For what was the billionth time she prayed to God, asking him bitterly to just allow her to die and be with Garrett.  She knew it would go unanswered like all the other times.   

Author's Note

I was just trying to write a gripping and emotional tale. Perhaps she feels betrayed, but I'm unsure, it's a mix of emotions.