Thread: What Might Have Been (AndNich123 & Reydan)

Pain had become a familiar foe over the past few weeks. Each day brought new healing, but the healing did not come fast enough. Every ache, every sore muscle reminded her all too vividly of the terror she had lived through. Even now she could still feel the remains of it through her body, and yet it paled in comparison to the agony that ripped through her the moment it became clear he did not want her touch. It was something she had told herself over and over to be ready for, to expect, but nothing could have prepared her for how it actually felt. She swallowed hard, pushing the lump that threatened to release emotions she wanted to keep hidden behind an unbreakable barrier. He couldn't see. She wouldn't let him. Still she heard those words, the code words, come. His voice gave nothing away, but she was still stuck on how he had reacted to her touch. Her mind was conflicted. He wanted her to come but not touch him. He wanted to talk.but not here. She glanced back towards the house as he moved further away. It was as if a movie played out in front of her of two young lovers. The swing swayed slightly in the breeze, as if two people had just leapt from it. The stain was far more worn now. Time had left it's impressions on more than the wood of that old swing. The paint on the porch was peeling now, lifting with it the memories of two lovers long lost ago. She looked back at him as he reached for the handle of his truck. Okay, she said softly. Not here. If she had been honest with him, she would have told him that she had considered just getting in her car and driving away, but running away hadn't solved anything in all this time. Why would this time be any different? This was not something she was going to run from. Not this time. This time she would face what she had caused. No matter how far away she got, no matter how high she soared, it always found her. He.always found her. She would watch him drive away, with thoughts of leaving still trying to win a war the war within, the war she would not retreat from. Looking around she expected to see people assembling, watching, wanting to talk. Instead she found neighbors peering from behind curtains. With a sigh, she shook her head and returned inside the house. The night brought no relief. Sleep seemed to be an elusive creature. Often she awoke, covered in sweat, reliving that fateful day. It would take tears and time before she could embrace sleep once more. A cup of coffee was all she could stomach before heading towards her mom's car. It too showed the wear of time. Nothing was safe from it. Her fingers traced along the hood as she moved towards the driver's side door. In her mind, she could hear their conversations as they stood by the car years ago. They talked about everything. From the most silly things, like which ice cream flavor was the best, to the serious life events, such as getting married, they talked about it all by this old car. Her mother never locked the door. She always said that if anyone wanted the old thing, they could take it. The door creaked in protest as she opened it and climbed inside. It was still there, in the ashtray, a spare key. Madeline laughed as she took it out. Really making it easy for people mom. The key brought the car to life, and she backed from the driveway, but Madeline had other ideas besides going straight there. She took a trip of sorts. That morning she went to various places that were special to the two of them. There was the old water tower where they had climbed up more than once. She took a stroll through the old open field by Mr. Camper's place. The old man would never plow over this one field that was covered with wild flowers. It was still as vast and beautiful as she remembered. There were many afternoons they had spent on a blanket in this field talking.and other things. The pond still smelled of algae, and different insects still flew about. The old willow tree seemed to hang further now. It's branches were older and weighted with age. Her hand rested on the bark remembering all the times they came here, skipping rocks.and classes.and ditching their families. She drove by the old diner they once went to. It was now owned by someone else, and it had changed. The paint was different. The name was different, but the feeling she got as she sat there with the engine running had not. As she looked at the building, alive with all the people coming and going, the car made a terrible sound and smoke began to billow from beneath the hood. Oh shoot! Don't you dare! Damnit! Madeline threw the car in gear and floored it. Don't you do this to me! Come on baby! Make it! She kept repeating those words the entire way. As the car rolled up into his yard, close to the garage, it finally came to a stop. Thank you, she whispered as she rested her head on the wheel for a moment. Throwing the door open, she climbed from the car, and slammed the door shut. Hello, she called out, before kicking the tire. I need some help! Please!