The One and Only Caroline

TW: suicide

I bent down on the grass. The morning dew seeping through the black slacks that I wore into the skin of my knees. I loosened my bow a bit and swallowed the building lump on my throat. Looking at your picture again and taking in a deep breath. You could say I'm nervous. It was my first time setting up something like this.

"How are you?" I said, trying to practice my greetings as I held out my right hand. I groaned in frustration. This wasn't enough to impress you.

"Why am I even doing this? I've known you your whole life," I grumbled then I remembered your eyes. Those emerald eyes, that made everything more colorful than it should be. 

"You know I'm not good at this stuff, I hate talking," I looked at the plaid picnic blanket set up on top of the meadow. And the picnic basket waiting for someone to open it. 

"I also hate waiting" I muttered and crossed my arms over my chest. The corners of my lips went up into a slight curve as I reminisced one of our rendezvous. The two of us against the world. Partners in crime. Jekyll and Hyde? No matter what you call it, we were a great team.

"Remember Ms. Allaire?" I chortled at the memory. "Your babysitter with the thick brows?." I looked at my watch and then stared up at the blue and orange mixing in the sky. "She was so furious when she found out you cut her hair while she was sleeping, she even tried to chase us saying that 'she'll take us to the police station'." 

"And she did. Luckily the Mayor was there and took a liking to her 'new edgy haircut.' Now, they have three kids," I sighed and paused for a moment. "How the time flies."

I stared at the setting sun over a few hills. Looking back, it was amazing how almost every space of greenery here had been stepped upon by our little feet. How our initials are carved in some of the trees located in this sod. And how everything changed in a few years.

"We've grown up," I exhaled with a bit of languishing evident as the wind took my breath away. 

Another voice from the back of my brain spoke up. "Mr. Pascal, the bald one, remember him?" I laughed at another of your mischief. "You trimmed one of his bushes into an odd shape with his hedge clippers." I sat down with legs open and laid out on the grass floor. "It was the talk of the neighborhood of how artistic he was."

“And that time teacher asked us to cut a circle, but yours turned into more of a-,” I rubbed my chin trying to think of a word to best describe your ‘masterpiece.’ “Let’s just say it wasn’t the circle we all expected, but everyone laughed at each of your attempts trying to make a decent one.”

“You made everything — more. Exaggerated, fun, chaotic. It certainly made life more exciting than it should be. Black and white became an array of colors that came in different shades. A line became a twisted loop that you can compare to the rails of a roller coaster. Every frown turned upside down. You turned my life upside down.” 

I let the fresh breeze enter my lungs as night falls. The tangerine sky turning darker with each passing second. And for each second I’m becoming more nervous. Everything should be perfect. The light, atmosphere, venue, etc. should be perfect. 

“I wasn’t exactly the outgoing type per se. And you understood that. You took your time to be my friend and that is something that I will owe you forever. You made me see life from another perspective. One, where order and command didn’t outweigh creativity and havoc.”

Your mischievous smiles and your contagious laughs. How your eyes twinkled with each roguery. How your body seemed to move first before your mind. Your words sharp without any remorse nor regret. This neighborhood loved you even with your outgoing decisions. 

You found Ms. Allaire the love of her life.

Making Mr. Pascal an artist he never thought he’d be.

And putting genuine smiles on people’s faces in the generation where smiles were easily faked.

What I noticed was that in most of your tricks you used sharp blades like scissors, knives, hedge cutters. Each impulsive act brought happiness you could only imagine. You certainly didn’t think ahead and did it.

So I wasn’t surprised when I saw a thin piece of the blade near your body inside your bathroom.

Straight lines. 

You finally did it. You made a bloody straight line. Considering your past experience in cutting things, this was a change in character. 

Blood dripped on your right wrist as I stared at your lifeless body. Your eyes shut and your grin gone. I thought you were messing with me. I put on a smile and tried to wake you up. 

“Caroline,” I called your name. I called your name a thousand times. Hoping that you’ll wake up and say that it was all a joke. I tried to wake myself up hoping that I was only dreaming. I hoped for a lot that day.

I only realized you were truly gone, was in the hospital where I saw your body covered in a white sheet. Only your face was shown, it was beautiful as ever. So beautiful that tears began to fall out of my eyes.

“She’s in a better place now,” I remember my mom’s words that evening when I came back from the hospital. I truly felt sorry for whoever is responsible for you right now. It probably took a lot to handle you. You should’ve stayed.

I waited for you to call my name. I waited for days, weeks, months. Even just a whisper, “James.” 

I was glad that the town agreed to bury you in our spot. In this spot. Where I’m kneeling and still waiting. With your plaque in the ground that says, Caroline Hoovers, the one and only. 

I went over to the nicely laid-out picnic blanket and poured myself a glass of champagne. I stared at the bubbles inside the glass as it floated up and popped. 

“I really hate waiting, but for you, I’ll make an exception.” I raised my glass up to the sky. Stars shone and the moon was bigger than ever. All the clouds cleared out probably in courtesy of your day.

“My partner in crime, the Jekyll to my Hyde, and my one and only. Caroline Hoovers.”