- -
Amy remembers a lot of things. Some things she wants to; some things she
doesn't. There are those memories that are fleeting, that come and then go,
never to return. And then there are those that stay forever, those that you will
never forget.
She didn't need a mirror to know the horror on her face as Dr. Brown
announced that Colin's surgery was unsuccessful. In fact, if she had seen her
face, it would have haunted her in her dreams for years. Decades. Perhaps for
the rest of her life. She was scarred enough without having to see with her own
eyes just what those few doomed words did to her soul.
She will never forget those words from Dr. Brown, nor the look on his face.
She might forget who cried and who didn't. Amy didn't cry. Everyone had stood up
as Dr. Brown walked into the room, and Amy, after hearing the news, tentatively
took her seat again. She felt unreal; numb. There are times in our lives when we
hear some bit of news and we just can't believe it. But she believed this. She
knew it was real, that it was true. She could feel it. Colin was gone.
And he left without her.
She remembers being whisked out of her chair and crushed into her father's
arms and held there so tightly she could hardly breathe. He knew what this was
doing to her; it was destroying her.
"My poor baby," said her mother, the next to give her a hug. "Are you all
right?" She didn't know. She couldn't feel a thing. She couldn't comprehend
anything except what she had lost.
Bright didn't give Amy a hug. He sat in his hard, cold hospital chair,
destroyed. Giving in to the pain. Amy stood staring at him as he slammed his
face down into his hands, angrily setting his elbows on his knees. He was lost
in his own world. He didn't see, hear, or comprehend anything that was outside
of his misery and pain. His best friend was gone, and somehow he still felt that
it was his fault.
The hug that Amy truly remembers is that of Ephram. So tentatively he walked
the short distance from his chair to where Amy was standing, hands in his
pockets, lips pressed tightly together. He took his hands away from his jeans
and awkwardly wrapped Amy in a hug, not understanding why she didn't break down
in tears. But it wasn't something to be understood. It was something that just
was.
"I'm sorry," Ephram whispered into her ear as he held her close.
If Amy could have spoken, she would have said, "So am I." But as it was, she
remained silent. Ephram let go and stared at her, wanting so badly to help her
with her pain, but not knowing how to any more than anyone else did. Besides,
they were all lost in their own grief. They didn't have time to stand back and
examine Amy.
Her lack of release gave her a panic attack. Her skin turned white as snow,
dizziness overcame her, she saw spots before her eyes. Her head pounded without
mercy, and she felt so nauseous she was afraid she would vomit all over the
sterile hospital floor. The dizziness caused her to close her eyes, and her body
swayed before she fainted, right down to the floor.
Hours later, she now sits in her home, staring out a window. It is dusk
outside, and the wind blows the trees this way and that. The clouds darken and
swirl closer together, forecasting a storm to come. A storm like the one inside
of Amy's heart. She feels so much, but couldn't describe a bit of it if you
asked her. It's private, anyway. Her own private hell. Nobody could possibly
understand.
A few more minutes of staring out that window, and the storm comes. Rain
falls from the heavens to wet the summer grass and splash raindrops onto the
glass of the window. God is crying, Amy thinks. God is crying for Colin, because
she can't.
She places a hand on the window, feeling the cold resonating from the
temperature outside. Her whole body shivers.
She imagines that this is any other day. Any other day in the whole wide
world. She imagines that Colin is well, and that nothing has happened to him.
She imagines being out with him in the rain.
"Come on, Grover!" he'd say, and usher her outside to run amuck amid the
wetness, screaming and laughing as teenagers in love, slapping each other
playfully, and crashing into each other's arms for hugs while both of their
clothes became soaked. She imagines it being just the two of them, for an
eternity, under God's tears, happy, free, alive. A world so different from the
one she's living in.
Amy can still feel the weight of Colin's soft lips upon her own. She imagines
kissing him in the rain, tasting his wet skin. Loving him to the very core.
This is what she pretends the world to be. One with Colin still in it,
because he will never truly be gone, not for her. He will forever remain in her
heart and her memories, eternally young, timeless. Laughing, happy, in love with
his Grover. The one who will always believe in him, even after he's left her
behind. Even though he didn't take her down with him. Even though he left her
here, alone.
She will always remember him, the way she imagines now. Always and forever
they will dance together, forever, forever, forever, dancing in the rain.
- -
end
