My body shook as another raw bellow ripped from my throat, the feeling of this pain no less than if I were being hung, drawn and quartered.
Tears fell freely down my face, pouring on to the dried dirt below my hands. My body was stuck in place, my legs refused to move.
I didn’t know what to do. What the hell was there to do? How did you get past not being able to help?
Tipping my head back to the star-filled sky, I closed my eyes. “Poppy,” I whispered, as the salt from my tears forced its way into my mouth. “Poppymin,” I murmured again, my endearment fading to nothing on the breeze.
In my mind I saw Poppy’s green eyes, as real as if she was sitting in front of me … I have a matter of months left to live, Rune. There’s nothing anyone can do…
This time my cries didn’t clog in my throat. They were freed and they were many. My body shuddered with the force of them when I thought of what she must have gone through. Without me. Without me beside her, holding her hand. Without me kissing her head. Without me holding her in my arms when she was sad, when the treatment made her weak. I thought of her facing all of that pain with only half a heart. Half of her soul struggling to cope without its counterpart.
Mine.
I wasn’t sure how long I sat in the park. It felt like forever until I was able to stand. And as I walked, I felt like an imposter in my own body. Like I was trapped in a nightmare, and when I woke up I would be fifteen again. None of this would be happening. I would wake up in the blossom grove under our favorite tree, with Poppymin in my arms. She’d laugh at me when I woke up, pulling my arm tighter around her waist. She’d tip up her head, and I’d lower my head for a kiss.
And we’d kiss.
We’d kiss and we’d kiss. When I pulled back, with the sunlight on her face, she’d smile at me with her eyes still closed and whisper, “Kiss two thousand and fifty-three. In the blossom grove, beneath our favorite tree. With my Rune … and my heart almost burst.” I’d gather my camera in my hands and I’d wait, my eye ready at the lens for the moment she would open her eyes. That moment. That magical captured moment, where I’d see in her eyes how much she loved me. And I’d tell her I loved her back, as I ran the back of my hand gently down her cheek. Later I’d hang that picture on my wall so I could see it every single day…
The sound of an owl hooting pulled me from my daze. When I blinked back the fantasy, it hit me like a truck—it was exactly that: a fantasy. Then the pain surged back and stabbed me with the truth. I couldn’t bring myself to believe that she was dying.
My vision blurred with fresh tears, and it took me a moment to realize that I was at the tree that I’d pictured in my dreams. The one we always sat below. But when I looked up at it in the darkness, with the cool wind whipping through its branches, my stomach turned. The branches bare of leaves, their spindly arms twisting and turning, all reflected this moment in time.
The moment I knew that my girl was leaving.
I forced myself to walk; somehow, my feet led me home. But as I walked, my mind was a jumble of uncertainty—scattered, refusing to pin anything down. I didn’t know what to do, where to go. Tears poured ceaselessly from my eyes; the pain inside my body was settling into a new home. No part of me was spared.
I did it to save you…
Nothing could save me from this. The thought of her so sick, fighting to keep the light she beamed so bright from fading, destroyed me.
Arriving at my house, I stared across at the window that had captivated me for twelve years. I knew she was on the opposite side. The house was in darkness. But as I moved my feet forward, I slowly ground to a halt.
I couldn’t … I couldn’t face her … I couldn’t—
Turning on my heel, I rushed up the steps to my house and burst through the door. Tears of anger and sadness were ripping through me, both fighting for dominance. I was being torn apart from the inside.
I passed the living room. “Rune!” my mamma called. I instantly heard the catch in her voice.
My feet drew to a stop. When I faced my mamma, who was standing up from the couch, I saw tears tracking down her cheeks.
It hit me like a hammer-blow.
She knew.
Mamma stepped forward, her hand outstretched. I stared at it, but I couldn’t take it. I couldn’t…
I rushed for my bedroom. I smashed through the door and then I just stood there. I stood dead center and looked around, searching for an idea of what to do next.
But I didn’t know. My hands lifted to my hair and gripped at the strands. I choked on the sounds leaving my mouth. I drowned in the damn tears tracking down my cheeks, because I didn’t know what the hell to do.
I took a step forward, then stopped. I moved to go to my bed, then I stopped. My heart thumped in a slow, lurching beat. I fought to drag air through my clogged lungs. I fought to not fall to the floor.
And then I broke.
I let the waiting anger free. I let it infuse me and carry me forward. Reaching my bed, I bent to grip the frame and, with a loud roar, I lifted it with all my strength, overturning the mattress and the sturdy wooden frame. I moved to my desk and, with one swipe, cleared the top. Catching my laptop before it hit the floor, I spun where I stood and hurled it into the wall. I heard it shatter, but it didn’t help. Nothing was helping. The pain was still here. The gut-wrenching truth.
The goddamn tears.
Clenching my fists, I threw back my head and I screamed. I screamed and I screamed until my voice was rough and my throat was raw. Dropping to my knees, I let myself drown in this grief.
Then I heard my door open and I glanced up. My mamma stepped through. I shook my head, raising my hand to ward her off. But she kept coming.
“No,” I rasped, trying to move out of her way. But she didn’t listen, instead she dropped to the floor beside me. “No!” I spat out harder, but her arms stretched out and wrapped around my neck.
“No!” I fought, but she pulled me to her, and I lost all that fight. I collapsed into her arms and I cried. I screamed and I cried into the arms of the woman I’d barely spoken to in two years. But right now, I needed her. I needed someone who understood.
Understood what losing Poppy would be like.
So I let it all out. I gripped on to her so tight I thought it would leave a bruise. But my mamma never moved; she cried with me. She sat quietly, cradling my head as I lost all strength.
Then I heard movement from the doorway.
My pappa was watching us with tears in his eyes, sadness on his face. And that reignited the flame in my stomach. Seeing the man that took me away, that forced me from Poppy when she was about to need me most, it snapped something inside.
Pushing back from my mamma, I hissed at him, “Get out.”
My mamma stiffened and I pushed her back further, glaring at my pappa. He held up his hands, shock now etched across his face. “Rune…,” he said in a calm voice.
It only fueled the flames.
“I said get out!” I stumbled to my feet.
My pappa glanced at my mamma. When he looked back at me, my hands were clenched. I embraced the rage burning inside me.
“Rune, son. You’re in shock, you’re hurting—”
“Hurting? Hurting? You have no damn idea!” I roared, and stepped an inch closer to where he stood. My mamma jumped to her feet. I ignored her as she tried to move into my path. My pappa reached forward and pushed her behind him and out into the hallway.
My pappa closed the door slightly, blocking her out.