My Love, Why Did You Go Away?

He stared at the hot water on his hand. Burning hot water that he had spilled while pouring someone’s tea. It hurt. But it was comforting, in a way. A pain other than grief or sadness. A pain that‒

“Dylan, is this done?” Dylan snapped his head up and looked at his coworker holding up the tea that Dylan had just poured. Dylan nodded and brushed his hand on his pants, wiping away the water. 

The wind pushed up against Dylan’s back as he began his walk home. The temperature had dropped in the past few days and he hadn’t been prepared. If he wrapped his jacket around himself then his hands would be cold. But if he put his hands in his pockets, then the wind would make his body cold. If only his zipper hadn’t been broken. Or if he had remembered to bring gloves. 

The bushes to the right of the sidewalk rustled. Strange. The wind had subsided for now. He quickened his pace nonetheless, the faster he walked the quicker he could be home after all. A branch from a tree next to the sidewalk cracked and dropped right next to him, nearly missing him. Wow, coincidental. 

“Dylan…” Dylan stopped short. He shut his eyes tight and shook his head. Not right now, please, it’s dark and I’m alone. Dylan waited, still with eyes shut. He started counting and when he made it to 30 he slowly opened his eyes, as if he had just awoken and had to adjust to the light. He began to walk again at a faster pace than before. Not right now.

Dylan dropped his backpack on the floor right inside his front door and slipped off his shoes. He walked into his kitchen where his mom was at the sink washing dishes and his dad was chopping something on the counter. 

“Hi honey!” His mom turned and looked at him as he plopped himself at the kitchen table. “How was work?” 

Dylan shrugged. “It was fine, as usual.” 

“Dylan!” Nick screeched and ran into the kitchen, jumping on his older brother’s lap.

“Hey Nick,” Dylan embraced the small kid and put his brother into a playful headlock.

“When is Katie coming over again? I want to show her my new dinosaurs.” Dylan stiffened and looked at his parents. When will he stop asking? It’s been months. 

“Before we eat, can you take Olly out?” His mom asked, trying to steer the conversation to anything but this. Dylan called to his dog who came bounding at the sound of his name. 

“I don’t know man.” He picked his brother up and put him on the floor before standing himself up. “She’s been pretty busy lately.”

“Okay,” Nick shrugged and ran back to the living room, obviously not as affected by that conversation as Dylan or his parents were. After all, how could he be? He couldn’t grasp the concept, he was too young. He had no sense of permanence, or even life or death for that matter.

Dylan walked out onto the patio and shut the door behind him, standing with his arms crossed and shivering as Olly ran around their yard. He should’ve brought his jacket. It had gotten colder since he had walked home. He missed the warm weather. Did he miss the warm weather or did he miss the time before everything had happened? His feet started to go numb from standing on the cold stone in his socks. He missed everything. Not having to go to work or school, seeing her everyday, staying up all night playing Call of Duty with his friends. He missed it but he didn’t want to. What’s the point of missing something if there’s nothing you can do to bring it back? And he knew none of it would ever be back, none of it would ever be the same. He wished he didn’t think about it so often. If only Nick hadn’t brought her up all the time. No, this wasn’t his little brother’s fault. This was Dylan’s fault. If only he had‒

Olly stood in a corner of their yard, facing the fence, and barked. He wouldn’t stop barking and staring at the corner of the fence. He started to back up and growl. 

“What is it Olly? There’s nothing there.” Dylan uncrossed his arm and made a step in the direction of his dog. The wind rustled the branches hanging over the fence. Olly did not let up, not even taking a breath. “C’mon Olly, there’s nothing there, let’s go.” Dylan’s voice trembled. There’s nothing there. There’s nothing there. There’s nothing‒

“Dylan… please.” The whispering voice made Dylan jump. He shook his head violently and practically broke the door trying to open it as fast as humanly possible. He nearly tackled his dad who was bringing a pot to the table.

“You okay, Dyl?” Olly ran inside right behind him. 

“Yeah, it’s just cold outside.” Dylan lied, voice still shaking. “Really cold.”

After dinner, Dylan secluded himself in his room. He hated being alone now. But like the scalding hot tea water, it was a comfortable pain, a necessary pain. 

He pulled out his notebook from his desk drawer and flipped to a page covered in angsty scribbles and messy writing. He began to sketch some images that would pop into his head randomly during the day. He wanted to cry. He wanted to cry so badly but he was too sad. All he could do was draw his depressing drawings and lie to his parents when they asked him how he was doing. He drew a sad looking sun and wrote, “without you the sun has turned black”. He stared at the page with his hands in his lap. The notebook slammed shut. No, please. Not now. Not ever. His hands started to shake. He shut his eyes tight. He wanted to run downstairs to the comfort of his parents but he couldn’t move. He was paralyzed. The blood had run cold in his body.

“Dylan…” He shook his head and shrunk in his chair. He pulled his knees to his chest and hid his face, his whole body shaking vehemently. His notebook flew off his desk and slammed into the wall opposite. 

“Dylan…” The whispers surrounded him. They echoed in his ears, bouncing around his skull causing his heart to ache more with every ricochet. “Talk to me…” 

There was a knock on his door. “Dylan, you okay? What was that noise?” His dad’s voice interrupted the whispers that paralyzed Dylan, breathing life back into his stone cold body. His room seemed to return to the real world, being dropped back into reality from the black hole of anguish that it had been suspended in. Dylan stood up and opened his door. 

“Yeah I just dropped my notebook.” He stared blankly at his father.

“Alright, Mommy and I are watching a movie downstairs if you want to join.” 

Dylan nodded and glanced back to his notebook on the floor. 

“Yeah, sure.”

The following days were the same. Dylan tried to avoid being alone as much as he could although it wasn’t always possible. His walks home from work were the worst. It was freezing and dark. Sometimes the whispers followed him and sometimes they didn’t. It seemed that on his worst days, they left him alone. Was it possible that…? No, what an absurd thought. Though he did wonder why now, why was the paranormal persistently trying to get his attention lately?

Dylan wrapped his jacket tight around himself and tucked his hands under his arms. Problem solved, hands and body were warm. Maybe he’ll ask his parents to get him a new jacket. One with a hood and big pockets. Dylan unwrapped himself and pulled his phone out of his pocket. He texted his friend that he was on his way. It had been awhile since he had hung out with any of his friends. 5 months about, he hadn’t seen them since that dreaded day in July. But if the nightmares and the voices wouldn’t stop, then might as well live with them and get back to his normal life.

He knocked on his friend’s door.

“Hey man!” Jacob opened the door and pulled Dylan in for a hug. “Man, it's been so long. How are you?”

Dylan dropped his bag and slipped his shoes off. “Better, better for sure. It’s been a long couple months but I’m doing better. She would've wanted me to get back to my normal life, ya know?”

“Yeah absolutely. Well, I’m glad you’re here, man. My parents are out for the night, Gavin will probably come by in a bit too. Bro, I just got the new CoD too, c’mere look.” Dylan wasn’t sure if he was glad or upset that Jacob had dropped the topic so quickly, maybe it was a good thing not to dwell too much on her. Plus, Dylan and Jacob never really talked about her much before that day in July so why would they talk about her after? Yeah that was definitely it, why force a conversation? Video games and sports were always the topics of their discourse, so why change it now just because Dylan had lost her? 

Jacob sank into the couch in his living room, turning on his PlayStation. Dylan dropped onto the couch right next to him.

“How’s college, bro?” Dylan asked, picking up the other controller.

“It’s wild, man. I’m glad to be done with the first semester though, it’s so much harder than high school. You decided not to go, right?”

“Yeah,” Dylan shrugged. “I uncommitted from RIT for the year. I’ll probably go next year. I don’t know, I feel like it’s just better that I’m not in school right now.” 

“Yeah totally, makes sense.” The two were so fixated on the game that any hope of a conversation besides the occasional curse word or complaint about alleged hackers was lost.

A few hours had gone by, in that time Gavin had arrived and joined the game. A few hours, without hearing her voice or feeling her presence. Did he miss it? No, there’s no way. She was practically haunting him, there was nothing comforting about that surely.

Dylan stood to use the bathroom. He closed the door and immediately the temperature of the small room dropped about 20 degrees. The light flickered, once… twice. Slowly Dylan buttoned his pants and flushed the toilet. He washed his hands and although he had only turned on the hot water, the faucet ran cold. Very cold. The light flickered, for longer this time and while standing in the dark slowly drying his hands, a gust of wind pushed up against him despite no open window. 

Dylan walked back into the living room stiffly. “I think I’m gonna head out guys. It’s getting pretty late.” He and his friends said their goodbyes and Dylan began the dreaded walk home.

“Dylan…” She whispered. Dylan stopped. Was it time to face this? “Yes… it is…” She whispered. Oh hell no. Dylan sped up. “Dylan… please…” Dylan sped up more, practically running. “Talk… if not now… then when…?” He broke into a jog. “Dylan…” The whisper surrounded him. It was so loud, pressing against his skull and forcing itself into his brain. The bushes and leaves of every tree whipped around despite any wind. Dylan broke into a sprint. He fumbled with the key in his door, desperately trying to escape her voice. He finally was able to unlock the door and slammed it shut. He leaned against it, breathing heavily. His parents voices from the kitchen soothed him, he slowed his breathing, trying to calm his nerves. He dropped his jacket and slipped off his shoes and walked to the kitchen. He smiled at his parents, wrestled with Nick, and chatted with his family just like any normal day.

After dinner, Dylan did the same routine as always. He went to his room and drew in his notebook. She was leaving him alone for now. After an hour or so of doing absolutely nothing, Dylan stood and walked to the bathroom hesitantly. As he was washing his hands, the temperature in the small room seemed to drop 20 degrees. He turned off the water and slowly dried his hands, trying to calm his heart rate and maintain his breathing.

“Dylan…” Dylan shook his head. Nope. He glanced up in the mirror. He couldn’t even jump. He couldn’t even scream. All he could do was stare. There she was. Right behind him in the mirror. She looked so real, so… alive. Her face was perfect, not a blemish on her, unlike the last time he had seen her. There were no scrapes or bruises, her skin wasn’t waterlogged and her neck certainly wasn’t broken. She was perfect.

“Dylan…” She whispered. Her mouth moved in the mirror. Her expression was soft, loving. “It’s okay…” She placed a hand on his shoulder. Dylan jumped and ripped the door open and ran downstairs where his parents were chatting loudly in the kitchen. He stood in the doorway, panting. He placed his hand on his shoulder, right where she had touched him. He had felt it, it felt so real. 

“Hey Dyl,” His mom was looking at him, expecting a response. He looked up at her. “What’s wrong, hon?” She dropped the towel she was holding onto the counter and walked over to him, taking his face in her hands. Tears were streaming down his cheeks, he hadn’t even realized.

“I miss her.” He cried. His mom pulled him in for a hug.

“I know, honey.” She whispered. 

“I’m sorry,” He cried loudly, bawling into his mother’s shirt. “I’m sorry.” He wailed.

“It’s okay,” She whispered. She was back. Her voice was everywhere. Surrounding him. “It’s not your fault.” Her presence was somehow more comforting than his mom’s hug. “It’s not your fault. Forgive yourself, for me.” Her voice was so close to him, right in his ear. He felt her right behind him, her arms wrapped around his waist. He felt her head rest on his back. His breath hitched in his throat. His mom pulled away, but she didn’t. She was still there, holding him from behind, tighter than ever. His mom was speaking but he couldn’t hear her, all he could hear was her breath in his ear, whispering, “It’s not your fault.”

“I love you,” He whispered, eyes shut. “I love you forever.”