Falling Inside the Black
By Bobina156 and
Inspired by the song:
Falling Inside the Black; By Skillet
Why life is so cruel? I shall never know. Why should we let love into our lives when love can only cause pain and sorrow? Why must life take away everything? Strip it bare of all things that make you want to live. And all you have is death and agony. Nothing and no one to care about you. So why should it matter if you stay closed off from the world? Why can't people leave you suffer in peace? Life is painful. Life is a horror you can't hide from. Life is a danger that you can't be protected from. Life is a hurt that you can't put a band aid on. You can't hide from life unless you wish to end it.
Love is the one emotion that causes the most pain to you and everyone around you. You can't help but love someone or something. Sure it’s amazing for the first fifteen minutes, but then it crashes and burns. Nothing can save you from the merciless pain that love brings. Would it help if we never loved at all? Maybe. But no one will ever know. You can't be human if you can't love something. The harder you hang on to love the more painful it will be when it crashes down on you so hard that it practically suffocates you. Love only causes pain, which leads to hate and rage, hate causes more hate until you can't help but love to hate. The love of hate then crashes down on you until you’re falling inside a black abyss.
As I walked out of the cemetery I couldn’t help but want to go jump in the same lake. The lake that ended her life. The lake that I could never return to. For the look on her frozen face when they pulled her out, scarred me for life. Her eyes had been wide open staring up into the swirling snow. I should have saved her, even if it meant the end of my life.
It should have been me in that casket. Not her. She had been an angel to the world. Why did god have to take her life? Why did she have to die with me by her side, doing the thing that brought her a great happiness? As I wondered these questions, I was propelled backwards in time to the terrible memory that I now possessed.
“Ash? Are you sure this ice is thick enough?” Wynter asked me.
“Don't worry babe. I got you. I promise you. I won’t let you hurt yourself,” I smiled at my beautiful girlfriend.
“It’s not so much getting hurt that I'm worried about. It’s more like, death, and hypothermia,” she explained, eyeing the ice wirily.
Wynter loved to skate. It was her number one passion. She loved skating more than anything else. Well, except maybe me, Asher Anderson, and her family. If the skating rink hadn’t been under construction, then we wouldn’t be here at this white, and beautiful frozen expanse of water, of which was surrounded by a frost covered forest. Early this morning I had walked all over this lake and hadn’t fallen through, so why should she be worried? I was probably a lot heavier than her. So what if I got a little wet? I didn’t care I could just climb into my car and dry off.
“Don't worry. I told you, I walked all over the-”
“The sun could have melted the ice,” she said worriedly as she looked up at me. I raised an eyebrow. She was being so dramatic. “Okay I guess I am being a bit paranoid.”
I smiled. “So are we going to go skating or do you want to go back to my house?” She rolled her big beautiful grey eyes, bent down and grabbed her skates.
“Skating,” she smiled. I hugged her with one arm and started lacing up my black skates with the other hand. How hockey players did this all winter, I’ll never know. As soon as Wynter and I were both laced up we wobbled over to the snowy bank of the lake. Well, I wobbled and she walked, while trying not to laugh.
“Are you sure you want to skate, Asher?” She giggled. I nodded and focused on not tripping in the ankle deep snow.
We finally got to the ice and Wynter took to it like a duck to water. I, on the other hand, tripped over a fallen snow covered log and face planted into the hard ice. “Asher!” Wynter squeaked worriedly as she skated gracefully over to where I had smashed my face into the ice. “Ohmigod! Your nose!”
I picked myself up off the ice and looked down into the slight dent my face had made. There was a trickle of blood pooling in the hole.
My hand went to my nose. It wasn't broken, but it was bleeding crazily. “Don't worry, it’s just a nose bleed,” I said, my voice sounding slightly Elmer Fudd-ish. Her eyes widened all the same, “Facial wounds always bleed a lot. See? It’s already slowing down.” Total lie.
“You’re sure you don't want me to get the first aid kit? Or a Kleenex,” she asked, then studying my face again she said, “Or like, an entire box of Kleenex?”
“Yah, Kleenexes would be nice,” I said trying to talk around the Elmer Fudd voice, but failing miserably. She nodded and hopped off the ice and weaved in between the trees to my car as fast as she dared. She was back in two minutes flat.
When she got back she kneeled down in front of me and started trying to wipe up my face. “Uh, Wynter? Maybe we should stop the blood flow first, and then clean up my face.” I suggested, as I gave up trying to talk without sounding like the fictional hunting character off a kid’s TV show. She blushed a little and gave me a wad of clean Kleenex. I pinched the bridge of my nose and soaked up the blood with the dry bunch of tissues.
It took a while for the blood to cease to stream out of my nose, the knees of our jeans were soaked through and had numbed our knees. “’Kay, I think it stopped,” I announced, still sounding like Elmer Fudd. I took the blood soaked tissue away from my face. There was no fresh blood that I could see, only frozen blood glistened on the Kleenex. I could bet that the bottom half of my face was a gore fest, with all the frozen blood clinging to my cheeks and lips, I probably looked like a monster.
Wynter grabbed my thermos of hot water, poured it on a tissue and mopped up my face. I'm not gunna lie here. It was kinda weird. After she was satisfied, and I didn’t look so bloody, she stood up, and offered her hand to help me up. I took her gloved hand and stood up.
I had skated before, but I was rusty. Her skating was like leaves dancing on the wind, mine was like an ape driving a minivan. But I soon caught on and was quickly gliding beside her. I slowed down and swerved behind her. I wrapped my arms around her small waist. She slowed and looked lovingly into my eyes. I leaned my face slowly down. Our eyes closed, and a split second before our lips touched there was a deafening CRACK!
My eyes flew open just in time to see Wynter slip out of my arms and into the frozen waters below. “ASHER!!” She screamed, just as I was plunged into the icy waters.
I gasped as the frigid water hit my face. I clawed my way to the surface, desperate to get out of the frozen water. My head finally broke free of the waters icy grasp. And all too soon the water seeped into my thick winter jacket. I whipped my head around, desperately looking for Wynter as I frantically treaded water with my frozen limbs. “WYNTER!!” I hollered.
“A-A-Ash. I-I-It’s-s-s-s s-s-so c-c-cold,” I heard Wynter through her chattering teeth. I whirled around just in time to see Wynter’s head dip below the icy water.
My eyes widened and I dove under the ice and hauled her up by the waist, using my last bit of strength to throw her arms onto the top of the ice, I numbly grasped the top of the ice. I was breathing heavily, my eyelashes were already freezing together, and I could feel my lips turning blue as Wynter and I hung on the edge of the ice. I wasn't sure if Wynter was conscious or not, but I knew that I was slowly giving into the icy numbness.
Just then my frozen mind finally remembered something. I had my phone in my pocket! I slowly reached my stiffened fingers into my iced over pocket, and pulled out my cell. With some difficulty I brushed the icicles that were already forming off of it and flipped it open. With my near frozen fingers I dialled the four buttons needed to save our lives; 9, 1, 1, Send. Praying that my phone hadn’t been water logged, I put it to my ear.
I almost cried when the operator picked up. I told the operator in a chattering voice what had happened and where we were. She told me to hold on and to do whatever I could to keep Wynter and I conscious. The battery in my phone decided to die just then. I tossed it across the ice and tried to get a response out of Wynter, by nudging her and trying to yell at her as loud as I could, which by then was no more than a whisper.
Wynter didn’t even move, never mind groan or moan. I heard a nearby scream of an ambulance. I took one hand and shook Wynter slightly. There wasn't a sound from her. I heard a thunderous CRACK! My eyes widened again, just as the ice Wynter and I were on crashed under us again. I swiftly splashed over to a more solid chunk of ice. But as I turned to grab Wynter, all that I could see of her was the last few strands of her bleach blonde hair sinking down into the water. I could see her steel grey eyes give one last blink. I watched as the bubbles of her last words she would ever say, float to the surface of the lake. I tried to surge down after her, but my jacket had frozen to the ice. “Wynter!!!” I screamed at the top of my lungs.
I could do nothing but watch as the love of my life sunk to the bottom of the ice filled lake. “Over there!” I heard someone yell. I struggled weakly against the ice, still trying to get to her. I couldn’t lose Wynter! I just couldn’t.
I felt a rope being thrown around me. I looked to where it had come from. Four paramedics in thick white parkas where lying on the thickest part of the ice. One held a thick rope, two held a couple of stretchers, and the last one held what looked like a giant first aid kit. I could feel my breathing getting shallower and shallower with each passing second. The ice cold water was suddenly nice and warm. My eyes fluttered closed. I could feel a slight tugging, and hear yelling voices. But slowly those things disappeared until I was floating in a warm darkness. I could sense the presence of Wynter in the distance.
All of a sudden I was jolted backwards from my girlfriend’s soul and I was shoved roughly into my frozen body. Then everything was shrouded in a cold darkness. All I could remember was the sight of her drowning, and mouthing her last words; Good-bye, Asher.
I shook my head to snap myself out of the memory. Wynter was dead, and it was all my fault. If I hadn’t insisted that we go skating then she would still be alive.
I heard someone come up behind me. “Hey, dude. How you doin’,” asked my best friend, Kain.
“How the Hell do you think I'm doing you moron! It’s my fault she died!” I snapped.
“Geez, dude. Calm down. It wasn't your fault. You couldn’t have stopped the ice from breaking,” Kain said as he long red hair flopped into his sad and mournful eyes.
I glared at him. “It. Was. My. Fault. If I hadn’t of suggested we go skating, then she would still be here!” I growled.
“Don't ‘Dude’ me. It’s my fault she died! It’s my fault that she’ll never again see her family! Just leave me alone! Leave me to suffer alone in peace!” I yelled at him and stalked away to my car. I wrenched open the door, and slammed it with a satisfying BANG!
I then backed out in a blind fury and sped all the way home. No one bothered me as I locked my car in the garage and smashed everything out of my way as I stormed to the sanctuary of my small room. I could see nothing in my wake of fury. Why couldn’t people let me be? If I wanted to mourn about killing my girlfriend then LET ME BE!
As I entered my room, I shucked off my winter coat and walked straight to my old beat-up punching bag. I hit it as hard as I could with quick jabs, crossovers, uppercuts and a few karate chops; and I kicked it as hard as I could with roundhouses, front and side kicks. I couldn’t stop. It felt good to vent out all my anger and sadness this way. I lost all track of time as I beat the crap out of the bag. I hit the zipper a few times when my punches were aimed too high. Pain shot through my knuckles, into my hands and up my arms, but I shoved all the pain down. ‘Cause you know what? This actually felt better.
I continued to slam my fists into the bag, and I continued to kick it as hard as I could. Pain was searing though every pore of my body. I was drenched in a sticky sweat, and I was breathing hard. I was so absorbed in destroying my opponent, that I didn’t notice the door of my bedroom open.
I heard someone clearing their throat. I slammed my fist into the bag one last time and turned to face the person standing in my doorway.
Egan, my Dad was leaning on my doorframe watching me. His calm hazel eyes assessing me. “Hey, Ash. How ya’ doing bud?” he asked me.
“How...the Hell...do you think...I’m doing you idiot!” I puffed. “I just got home...from my dead...girlfriend’s funeral!”
“Calm down, Asher. It wasn't your-”
“Fault? Yah, it was my fault! If I hadn’t suggested skating, she’d still be here!” I yelled at him. My Dad narrowed his eyes. He had a look that said I was going to get another lecture, but before he could start I spoke in the coldest voice possible, “This is my room. Leave, and let me be.”
We stared at each other for the longest 10 seconds of my life, but Egan finally looked away, turned and left my room. I slammed the door shut, whirled around and attacked the bag again. Nothing could stop me from furiously beating up my opponent. I wanted to shred the hundred pound bag into a million pieces, just for the satisfaction of seeing something destroyed.
I smashed my fists into the bag until dusk. By then I felt weak. I was so tired. I flopped into my bed exhausted. If I had any dreams, I didn’t remember them.
When I awoke, the first thought I had was; I gotta call Wynter. Then as I sat up in bed, I remembered the horrible truth. Wynter was dead. I growled in fury and smashed my fist into the wall. I gasped as my already shredded knuckles made a softball size hole in the previously dented wall. I swore several times as the intense pain that filtered through my body.
Stupid, stupid, stupid! Why the Hell was I so stupid!? I coulda broke a bone doing that! I shoved the thought out of my head and focused on the pain. Still it felt better than the horribly sharp mental ache. I shook off the throbbing as best I could, got up, and trudged to the kitchen. I was desperately hoping Egan had left for work.
Unfortunately, luck and happiness weren’t on my side this week. As I entered the kitchen I saw Egan sitting at the beat up table sipping his coffee, obviously waiting for me. I turned around, but as I left the kitchen, I heard Egan get up and follow me.
“Asher, can we talk?” Dad’s voice came from behind me.
I took a deep breath, steadying myself, and turned around with a calm and collected facial expression. “About what?” I questioned.
“About...Wynter,” he replied.
“What about it? It’s a beautiful season,” I said easily, knowing full well he didn’t mean the season, “I mean you got snowboarding, skiing, sledding, snowmen, snowball fights, hockey, snow f-”
“I meant Wynter, as in...your...um dead girlfriend,” Dad said awkwardly.
My voice as well as my face went cold as ice, “There’s nothing to talk about old man,” I snarled. Egan looked startled by my sudden change in tactics.
“Asher-” he started.
“I don't want to talk about it. She’s dead, it’s my fault, and there’s nothing else to it!” I thundered, icicles dripping off my every word. Dad seemed to shrink under my icy gaze. “Now shut up and leave me the Hell alone!”
“Asher, I think-”
“I don't care what you think! Nobody cares what you think! It’s never anything useful! Leave me alone to wallow in my misery!” I screamed at him, struggling not to let the tears, which were threatening to spill, show.
With that I whirled around and stormed into my room. I slammed my door as hard as I could. The rusty hinges rattling with protest, but they faithfully hold the door in place. I spun around and took all my fury and sorrow out on my punching bag as I whipped my right fist into the innocent bag as hard as I possibly could. The bag smashed into the wall and opened a hole the size of a basket ball. Frigid air streamed into my room. Unfortunately the black bag had opened a hole on the outside wall. I only shivered slightly, for my blood was literally boiling. Sometimes I really hated Canadian winters, and living near the mountains in British Columbia seemed to be the coldest and snowiest.
As Egan quietly opened my door, I looked over my shoulder with a furious gaze aimed in his direction. He didn’t seem to notice, what he did notice was the giant hole in my wall.
“Asher Andrew Anderson! What the Hell did you do!?” he yelled coming into my room, his eyes blazing.