And then I was standing by the front door of my home, looking outside through the panes of glass on either side of the door. My partner on the police force, Jared Hill, was getting out of his police cruiser, dressed in uniform still. His eyes were red and swollen, like he had been crying. He stood by the car for a few moments, just staring at the front door, letting the wind toss around his curly red hair.
And then he walked up the paved walkway to the front door. Standing rigidly on the doormat, he hesitated to ring the doorbell. His finger hovered in the air a few centimeters from the button, seemingly suspended in time. After what seemed like ages, Jared’s finger finally traversed those last few centimeters of open air and rang the doorbell. He withdrew his hand quickly, as if he thought the button would bite off his finger for bringing this news to this doorstep.
And then I heard something stir upstairs. Jared rang the doorbell again, and the bedroom door quietly opened. My gorgeous wife stepped out into the hallway, and began making her way down the stairs. She was dressed in her nightgown, obviously just disturbed from sleep. Her long black hair was a mess, like she had just put her head into a wind turbine. Her bed-head and dazed look brought forth images of Edward Scissorhands. Despite her unkempt hair, she looked as beautiful as ever. She walked towards the front door, and I stepped out of the way, even though I knew she would go right through me. She yawned into her soft hand, and opened the door. Her eyes lit up with surprise upon seeing Jared.
“Jared, what are you doing here? It’s nearly midnight.”
“I’m sorry to wake you Aurora, but…there’s been an accident.”
All of the life vanished from Aurora’s face. Her skin was as pale as the moon. Even her vibrant blue eyes, illuminated by the gentle touch of the porch light, dimmed when those words left Jared’s lips. He continued on.
“On his way here from the station, Adam’s car swerved off the highway into a tree. The paramedics arrived on the scene after only a few minutes, but…they were too late to save him. I’m so sorry, Aurora.”
Aurora’s lip quivered, and then she burst into tears. Her knees quaked beneath her, and she fell. Jared darted through the door and caught Aurora before she hit the tile. She put her arms around Jared, and cried into his shoulder. Jared closed his eyes as tears started to trickle down his own face. He whispered words of assurance into her ear such as, “It’s going to be OK,” even though he knew it was not.
For awhile, they just cried. I want to shout, “I’m right here!” to stop their suffering. But they can’t hear me anymore. I fall to my knees next to them and stretch out my arms to comfort them both. My limbs pass through them, just as before. I try, and I try, and I try, but still they have no idea of my presence. If I could just tell them one last time how much they mean to me…if I could just wrap my arms around them both for a few seconds…everything would be at peace. Instead, I sit here as an unseen spectator to their despair.
After many minutes of crying, they finally regain some sense of control. Jared lets go of Aurora and helps her to her feet. And then he says, “I have to get back to the station. I just wanted to come here myself to tell you what happened. If you need anything Aurora, anything at all, just call me. We’ll help each other through this. I’ll call you in the morning to check up on you.”
“Thank you, Jared. I’ll be alright. Stay safe.”
Jared stood there, staring at Aurora, and then turned to leave. Aurora shut the door behind him, turned her back to it, and then fell to the floor again. She propped her arms onto her knees, and then buried her face into her arms and cried. Her whispered sobs didn’t carry much further than ten feet, but they rocked my being to the very core. She seemed so helpless, sitting there. If she feels anything like I do right now, she knows that a part of her is gone, and that piece of her will be empty forever.
I sit down beside her, and get as close to her body as I can without passing through it. I lean my head to the side as if I were going to rest it on her shoulder, and I cry with her. And even though I know she will not hear me, I start to talk to her.
“Aurora, I love you so much. This is all my fault, I shouldn’t have been driving knowing how exhausted I was. I made a stupid mistake, and I hope you can forgive me. You’re my everything, and I’ll be with you forever, OK? Please babe, hear me. Just hear me. Seeing your face in the morning was my favorite part of every day. No matter how awful the day was, everything stopped hurting when I looked in your eyes. If only I could tell you how much I love you. Please babe…hear me.”
But she continued crying, oblivious to the fact that I was right here with her. Her breathing started to return to normal, and she lifted her head from her arms. Her entire face was soaked with her tears, and the light from the moon made her glimmer. Even drenched in tears, she was beautiful. She grabbed the bottom of her nightgown and wiped her face with it. She let out a soft whimper, which is what she always did when she was finished crying. I had only seen her cry on two other occasions. One was on our wedding day, and the other was when her father passed away.
Slowly, she rose to her feet. Her balance wavered for a moment, but she regained her composure. Then she walked up the stairs, but instead of walking into her room, she turned left down the hallway, and went into Amy’s room. I followed her in.
Amy was sound asleep, laying under the covers. Her blanket had a dozen different horses all over it. She loved horses. I promised her that when we had the money, I would buy her a horse that she could have all to herself. Just one of the many promises that went unfulfilled.
She has long black hair and blue eyes, just like her mother. She is smirking for some reason. She must be having a really good dream. How heartbreaking that she has to return to reality to the news that her father is dead. If only I could save her from that, I would. Only seven years old, and already she has to deal with the loss of a parent. I let her down. Aurora approached the bed, and sat down on the edge. She grabbed some of Amy’s hair, and ran her fingers through it. And then she leaned forward, kissed her on the forehead, and said delicately, “Amy, wake up. I have to tell you something.”
Amy scrunched up her face in annoyance, and turned onto her back. Her eyelids peeled back a tiny bit, just enough to see her mother’s face. After a deep inhale/exhale, Amy said to her mother, “What is it, mommy?”
“Honey, I’ve got some bad news. Daddy…daddy isn’t going to be coming home.”
“How come? Will he be back soon?”
“No, Amy. His car crashed, and the doctors weren’t able to save him. He’s…gone.” “Mommy…do you mean daddy is dead?”
Such a blunt response from such a little girl. I’m not sure she is really old enough to understand the severity of those words, but she understands the concept of being dead. It’s when a person goes to sleep and never wakes up. “Yes Amy, that’s…that’s what I mean.”
Aurora’s eyes started to swell up with tears again. The first one emerged from her tear duct, and Amy reached up with her thumb and wiped the tear away. And then she said: “Mommy…will we ever see Dad again?”
I want to shout out to her, “I’m right here Amy, don’t worry. I’ll never leave you!” I would do anything in the world for just a few more seconds with my wife and daughter. I would spend an eternity of damnation if it meant I could come back to this moment in time and put my arms around my daughter one last time. I’d roam the earth forever like this if it meant I could just kiss my wife and tell her I love her. More tears made their way down Aurora’s face; too many for Amy to wipe off with her thumb.
“No…no, we won’t. Dad is gone forever.”
And then everything went black.
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