It was like I was locked in a torture chamber. A torture chamber that was catered exactly for me. All the memories of my time with him were played in front of me on a loop. I was strapped in the chair forced to watch every single moment, reliving all the time we spent together.
But, I wasn’t strapped to a chair in a torture chamber.
I was scrolling through my pictures on my phone as I lay in bed, depressed and alone. It’s been a couple years since he was taken away from me, but on the anniversary of his death, it hits me.
I remember I was waiting for him to come home from work. I had actually made dinner for us from scratch that night and was really excited for him to see and taste it.
I got a phone call that changed my night. I was just taking a photo of my neatly set table to put up on my Instagram account and then I got a call from a number I didn’t recognize. I wasn’t going to answer it, but I saw that it was coming from our town, so I felt it could be important.
It was important, but it wasn’t the news I wanted to hear.
John was in a wreck and he didn’t make it.
“Ma’am, I’m incredibly sorry to have to tell you this over the phone, but your husband was involved in a wreck… and… I’m really sorry…” The man on the phone said.
I remember just staring at my neatly set table in shock. I didn’t know how to respond. They said someone was on their way to my house. I didn’t know why. I wasn’t sure what was really going on. Was this a joke? John had some friends on the force, maybe he was playing a prank on me so I wouldn’t be mad at him when he got home late.
That picture was still on my phone. It showed up as a “memory” on my phone every year. Like: remember when you took this awesome photo right before you found out that your soulmate died?
I wanted to delete it, but I kept it up because I could still remember the feeling I had when I finished making this meal I never got to eat. I never made it again.
“Sascha! Stop taking a video of me and help me!” John’s voice boomed through my phone’s speaker as it played a video of John stuck in one of my sweaters. I was laughing my head off as he couldn’t take the sweater off.
“Don’t break it!” I screamed as he was pulling hard on the sweater to get it over his head.
“Help me! Please?” He sounded desperate so I stopped the video and helped him. I remember carefully taking off the sweater and him taking a huge breath. I was crying so hard from laughing.
Now I was crying from nostalgia.
Two years and I still miss him. I couldn’t imagine a life without him and even though I’ve lived it for two years, I still can’t picture it. My friends and family… even John’s family… all tried their hardest to get me back into the game. They told me he would want me to be happy, again. But they didn’t understand that he was my happy.
I couldn’t get out of bed. It was the hardest thing to do. I didn’t have anything pressing to attend to. I made sure that I requested today off from work because last year I didn’t and that was a mistake. I just kept staring at all the photos and videos of John on my phone, wishing I had taken more. I wanted to hear his voice, again. I wanted him to be lying beside me and whispering in my ear, “I love you.”
“Good morning…” My voice rang through the speaker from the video of John snoring with his mouth open on the couch. John woke up and saw me taking a video of him. He furrowed his brow and pouted.
“Turn off the camera, you jerk!” John said playfully as he tried to turn his body over on the couch and face away from me.
“Babe, we gotta go to the party in like twenty minutes.”
The video cut off. I wanted just ten more seconds. Why couldn’t I have waited ten more seconds to stop the video? But I didn’t know then. I didn’t know that I wouldn’t be able to see his face every day. I didn’t know that I wouldn’t hear his voice again. I didn’t know that he would be out of my life as quick as he came in.
Every time the videos end I remembered he wasn’t here. I knew I shouldn’t be doing this to myself. This wasn’t getting me anywhere in life. But, I couldn’t pretend to be happy or okay; not when every moment of my life I wished that John was still by my side, holding my hand, and whispering stupid jokes in my ear when we were out with friends. I missed him. I would always miss him.
My memories… my personal torture chamber.
Thanks for reading my 5th writing prompt!! I hope this one didn’t totally bum you out. I was having difficulties trying to get this to stop being so dark, but every time I rewrote it, it got darker.
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