Icy silence suffocates the mountain noise, a moment calm, honest, and seamless. The raging storm that had extended our romantic winter getaway finally passed. The storm had left the mountain in white awe. If it weren’t for the blood and dead bodies, this would have been a breathtaking, Instagram photo, it would probably even get well over a hundred reacts and shares. Instead, it was life taking, a scene from a horror novel or one of those Crime Scene Investigation shows. The storm attempted to bury secrets, but blood is hard to get out, especially out of anything white. Once spilled it refused to be forgotten, to just be hidden; down to the most minuscule splatter, the sanguine fluid seems to call out, “HEY! Over here I’m Blood, Human blood to be exact! Nice to meet ya!” it shimmered from the morning glow as the sun crowned the new day.
Snow white stained in a deep seething red. Hot tears fell from my eyes mixing with the blood and dirt, it was the only bit of warmness I could feel. “Un-un-unforgivable…” the word struggled to fall from my lips in a white mist like those speech balloons I would see in comics that worded the characters in the panels’ thoughts and dialogue to the reader.
A blanket of ice settled perfectly still all around me. My hand’s filth with the red ink, sweat, and dirt. Kassidy, my beautiful darling wife appears frozen as I look on to her sweet face, now stained in blood. She was not frozen by the chill whisper of the wind, but by time. I wanted to remember this even when she’s gone, I wanted to remember her as she was at this moment.
I robbed her of time, and she has robbed me of mines; Kassidy would forever be preserved in these closing moments of this tragic play. Our family cabin we rebuilt in our image and made memories in on the left. The lake the kids played in, the Lake Zion first learned how to swim in, the lake where we made love in on our random summer get always to the right. Both ravaged with sins of infidelity; “I killed him… for you, for us… Kassidy why?”
Red, Kassidy moaning whilst lips suckle her neck. White, Kassidy smiling in a heavenly glow as we stood at the altar holding hands and she says, “I do.” Red, deep thrust, Kassidy mouth uncontrollably opening wider as he buried himself deeper into her. White, Kassidy lying exhausted but smiling in a hospital bed holding our sweet boy. Red. Them. White. Us. Red. Red. RED. “Un-unforgivable…” more of those speech balloons.
My Heart. My Wife. My Queen. Kassidy held a penetrating stare to my gaze as the sticky red fluid pooled onto the snow, soiling it lush pure beauty.
Grey laid at our feet like an offering, his face fixated on me with mixed-match eyes. If only I saw through those stolen eyes that now watch with a lifeless self-satisfaction. Even though Grey’s pale face was petrified there was a blissful look that whispered with the lapsing wind,
“What does a liar do when he’s dead?”
From the moment the illustrator of this long drawn out novella of love and catastrophe appeared, I’ve assumed he was the author of it all. But that’s not the truth, is it Kassidy? This was long written. We just finally made it to the irrevocable act of it all, the closing curtain.
“W-why him?” I grunted through the anger and pain. Kassidy held me intently with those hazel eyes that answer louder than anything she could voice. Had I caught on earlier maybe it would have played out differently, at least some part of me wanted to believe that. The naïve part. The Dreamer.
The truth is this ending was always coming. Yeah, the cold bloody red winter backdrop, the cabin in the wood scene was always premeditated as the closing of it all. We just had to make it here eventually right Baby, this was always meant to happen, from that very moment we had lost Claire, it was inevitable.
Forgive but never forget… but there are somethings you merely can’t be forgiven nor forgotten. You hurt me because I’ve hurt you but why this? Here I am again, asking a question I knew the answer to or at the very least understood that I co-wrote it all.
How many times had I held and felt the polymer of that Smith & Wesson M&P, hours at the range just to practiced being proficient in use with it to protect my family, my home, never did I imagine it’ll be used like this. Divorce was never an option, only death, a sin for a sin. Kassidy was fading into that black and as I look unto her cold rigid face its Gray’s question I see.
“What does a liar do when he’s dead?”
I’ll suffer hell’s penance for the sins of killing the one I love. This single 9-millimeter round will serve as the final period to it all as the final thought crossed my mind.
Unforgivable. Unforgivable. Unforgivable, unforgivable, unforgivable, unforgivable, it was all so damn “UNFORGIVABLE!” The December winds answered my cries with a sudden gust of wind and then there was a hush that again befell the wintery white land stained in blood. Unforgivable.