very short story.
“What are you doing?”
Amy’s head shot up, startled. “Kim, get the fuck out of here.”
“What the fuck is going on? Is that blood?” Kim’s eyes widened in terror and confusion as she saw a dark red smear on the marble sink, and more covering Amy’s hands.
“Kim, I swear to fucking god if you don’t leave right now I—”
“AMY.” Kim yelled. “Who’s blood is that, is that your blood? Are you hurt, I’m not leaving until you tell me what happened are you hurt did someone hurt you?” her sentence running on as her voice began to betray her and, shaking, she fought back tears.
“Please, just leave. GET OUT. You have to listen to me,” Amy was screaming. “Kim, get the FUCK OUT please.” She began to cry so hard she fell to her knees. ‘Why isn’t she listening to me, why isn’t she running’ she thought to herself.
“Honey do I need to call an ambulance? I don’t understand! Please Amy, I don’t understand!” Kim cried as she started slowly and tentatively moving towards Amy.
“NO. Kim, stop. STOP FUCKING STOP. YOU NEED—”
Amy would never finish her sentence. A spray of red mist hit her in the face accompanied by a gun shot. Kim’s lifeless body fell to the ground, and he stood in the hallway looking into the bathroom, staring down at her.
“No. NO.” She couldn’t see anything through her tears and the blood. She was thankful for that. She didn’t want to see Kim lying there. “You didn’t have to kill her. You son of a fucking bitch, you didn’t have to kill her! What more do you want from me?”
The man looked her up and down. “Stop crying. I said STOP. You want to die looking like this? Have some fucking dignity. You brought this upon yourself. Open your eyes. Open. Your eyes. Look at her. LOOK AT HER AMY. That is your fault. She is dead because of you, do you understand that? You shouldn’t have come back here. You should have sat the fuck down and done what I said. Now I want you to apologize. Apologize to Kim for doing this to her.”
“fuck you.” Amy spat out.
“I gave you a chance. You pissed it away, you selfish bitch.”
Amy was staring at the ground, the tears stopped. She wouldn’t cry anymore. She couldn’t if she tried. She lifted her head inch by inch, her hair, sticky with the blood of her lover, plastered to her forehead. She looked up at him, then her head drop back down all the way to the cold stone tiles.
in dreams, emotions are overwhelming.
She opened her eyes and saw him holding her, keeping her head above water. In trying to keep her afloat, he could barely keep his head up. She woke to him spitting out ocean water and gave a weary laugh. He turned his head and smiled, and she smiled back. As she regained her senses, she rearranged their positions so they were holding each other, comfortably buoyant.
Both were aware that something horrible had happened, and may not be over, yet they smiled, and laughed, and stared into each others eyes and felt happy. Though all around them was uncertainty and danger, in each others arms they felt safe. They felt content, like this was exactly where they belonged. She became overwhelmed with love, and emotions she couldn’t quite place, when she felt the force of his arms around her and heard him laugh that laugh she loved so much.
All at once, she felt his lips on hers for the first time in years. She remembered the feel of his hands on her face, the taste of his tongue, she forgot how wonderful it felt to be this close to him, to have him want to be this close to her. Everything fell into place, the world made sense again. Nothing else mattered.
She opened her eyes.
She pulled back the covers, remembered where she was.
She was drowning again, in the world without him.
This one scene in The Brothers Bloom. You know the one. Bloom and Penelope are walking, they pass behind a wall, and all of a sudden they are holding hands. Such a simple act, almost meaningless to so many people these day, but such a lovely and wonderful thing that is taken for granted. Bloom smiles, Penelope smiles. Pure and simple happiness.
And then! He methodically, purposefully, pulls his hand away and puts it in his pocket. Penelope looks confused, slightly hurt.
This scene always resonates so deeply with me. I think because it is the epitome of every relationship I have had in the last few years bunched into a few minutes of film.
The joy and elation of meeting someone you actually LIKE, someone you just fucking love being around, and thank your lucky stars this great person likes you too! Silly smiles, and carefree attitudes. And then he gets distant, and he pulls his metaphorical hand away, deliberately. It wasn’t just dropping your hand for a moment, he was shutting you out and he wants you to know it without being ballsy enough to come out and say it.
So you bring your hands closer to yourself, you take the hint. You don’t fully understand it, but what can you really do? The smiles fade. It’s so quick. It’s so quick you don’t even know if you made the whole thing up in the first place.
It hurts, and all you want is to hold their hand again.
One day I’ll be lucky enough to find someone who won’t let go.