Chapter 1

December 2003

John’s 19^th Birhday

As I ran after her past the snow in piles to either side of the sidewalk, I knew my world had ended.

When I reached her, I grabbed her shoulder and twisted her pulling her into a kiss. It wasn’t something I planned it simply was. When I broke the contact, she spoke through the tears that were streaming down her face, rivulets of pain scarring my soul. Her pain was mine, every ounce she felt was like a slap in my face, a nail through my chest. She spoke in spite of the anger and the tears, “Oranges and Lemons.”

“Say the bells of St. Clements.”

“It is you. You did this. You’re supposed to be mine. How can you do this to me? I ONLY ASKED YOU FOR ONE FUCKING THING! No Alex, no Beth! Why would you do this to me?”

In the entirety of my life, I have only begged once. I never begged for the beatings to stop. I never begged for my life or my freedom. I never begged for anything until that moment, “I made a mistake. Please understand, I need you to understand.” The pause was earth shattering, horrendous, almost a solid thirty seconds of silence that felt like a knife twisting in my gut. I deserved the pain and I knew it.

She composed herself a bit and gave voice, “Start talking, dunderhead.”

I stood shivering, bare-footed and shirtless, my only protection from the cold the gray sweatpants I had thrown on, “Can we go inside somewhere, it’s a bit cold.”

“OK, but she’d better be gone.”

The walk back to my dorm room was silent. I was afraid of saying the wrong thing. I was afraid of not saying the right thing. I was afraid of her taking off again. Not that I could possibly make things worse than they were. There was a subtle hint of amazement at just how far we’d run. We had made it all the way across campus, the walk back chilled me to the bone and I deserved it.

Hours Later

It was finally time. I had sweated and worried through the day, consumed by the thoughts of this. This was the most important moment of my life. It was when I would get the answer, the only answer that mattered, “Could I be forgiven?”

I stood in front of the door vacillating on whether to use my key or simply knock. I had done the worst thing I could possibly have done and now I was afraid. I was afraid I had thrown away my future, afraid that I was as unforgivable as I was unlovable. I knocked, the hollow pang struck my ears as malicious and wrong; so I withdrew my key and opened the door. I stepped in and called, “Honey?”

Did she leave? She said she would meet me, she said now. She said she only needed time to decide. A few hours that was all, she doesn’t have anywhere else to go.

I moved down the hall checking the lone bedroom first before turning back towards the main room. I noticed the bathroom door was cracked and a hint of candle light flickering from it. I stepped forward opening the bathroom door calling out once again, “Honey? Mary?”

I saw her lying there submerged. The water a solid, sickly shade of not quite red contrasted with the white of the porcelain, hideous and aesthetic at the same time. Everything went fuzzy for a second, the world shifted. Reality simply wasn’t. I began to move as if in a dream.

I rushed and pulled her from the water. She was bleeding from her wrists. I pulled off my shirt and ripped in twain to bandage them. I tilted her head back and checked her airway. I found the spot on her chest and pressed counting all the while, 1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9,10 She gasped for air. The paramedics showed up.

Had I called them? I must have called them.

Suddenly I was standing in a hospital room. Mary was lying on the bed. Her red hair spread on the pillow behind her, she looked paler than normal and the contrast made her more beautiful. Wondrous Red was running from a bag on metal to her arm. She turned her head towards me and smiled, “Are you just going to stand there?” Her voice was different.

The wedding was held after I graduated. The colors were white and red; the white looked almost like porcelain. My stepfather must have fitted the bill. As I entered the church, it was beautiful. I don’t know why I agreed to a church wedding. I stood beside Scott and Daniel. That seemed wrong somehow. How had I made up with Scott? I didn’t remember. Daniel couldn’t be here, though I wasn’t sure why, but he was. Alex, Beth, and Sarah were all in red across from me. I was glad Mary and Alex had become friends even after what I had done. The room stopped and turned. The familiar march began to play, slightly off key as she entered. Mary was beautiful beyond words. Her red hair and the white dress, it was indescribable. She almost hovered as she walked down the aisle. When she reached me she asked, “Are you just going to stand there?”

What is wrong with her voice?

We were older, A small house in the woods. Two ginger children running through the yard, two dogs behind them. I was sitting on the porch. I turned, it was a cozy home. Mary stood behind me. She placed her hand on my shoulder and I turned to face her. She offered me a guilty little half-smile, I knew what she wanted. The kids would be all right for a moment. She asked, “Are you just going to stand there?”

I looked in the mirror. I was old.

When had I gotten so old?

Mary entered the room and smiled at me. She was as beautiful as the day I met her. I announced, “Big day today, right.”

She merely nodded. I turned toward the door and we walked to the car. She stood by the driver side door, “Are you just going to stand there?” Her voice was wrong cold and metallic.

“Are you just going to let me go?” That was her voice; so sweet with just a twinge of sour.

I was lying on a bed, my deathbed I realized. Mary stood over me. The world turned black. A voice asked, “Are you just going to stand there?” It was only then that I realized that I knew that voice.

Dear God, I know that voice.

“Are you just going to stand there?”

It was my other saying the phrase over and over. I was still standing in the bathroom door.

How long have I been standing here?

I lifted her from the water, so that her head was no longer submerged. I needed a phone; there was one in the hallway. I grabbed the phone and dialed 999. I cursed myself momentarily as I hung up and dialed 911.

“Hello communication services how may I help you?”

“I need an ambulance at 526 Elm Street. Apartment C. I’ll go open the door.” I ran back and opened the door to the apartment wide. I rushed back to the bathroom; the water had turned a shade of reddish brown.

“Tell me what’s going on.”

“I came home, my girlfriend she was in the bathtub, there’s blood.”

I pulled her body from the water and lay her on the tile. I watched for her chest to rise and I checked for a pulse.

There aren’t any cuts on her wrist, where had the blood come from?

I noticed a gash on her leg. I pulled my shirt off and wrapped it around her leg.

What happened?

“Do you see any injuries?”

“She has a gash on her leg. I wrapped it with my shirt. She’s not breathing, no pulse.”

“Do you know how long it’s been since she stopped breathing?’

“No, her fingers are sort of blue.”

Bad sign, lack of oxygen cpr. CPR. How do I do that again? Oh yeah, I remember.

“You need to start...” I was already tilting her head back and checking the airway.

“Already started, are they on their way?”

“They’ll be there as soon as they can.”

I put my lips to hers and forced my breath into her lungs.

Breathe, Breathe.

My hands found the base of her rib caged 1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9, 10

Breathe, Breathe. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10. Breathe, Breathe. 1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9, 10. Breathe, Breathe. 1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9, 10 Breathe, Breathe. 1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9, 10 Breathe, Breathe. 1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9, 10. Breathe, Breathe. 1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9, 10. Breathe, Breathe. 1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9, 10 Breathe, Breathe. 1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9, 10

I’m not sure how many times the cycle repeated itself. But eventually, I felt a hand on my shoulder. “You need to step out son, we’ve got this.”

I was hesitant to listen to the man, but I did I walked out and set on the couch. I waited. Eventually, a man entered the apartment from outside. He walked over to me. “Hello, I’m Officer Perkins of the Dannon police department. Can you tell me what happened here?”

I looked at him; his face didn’t seem to be fully formed. He was wearing a uniform. “My girlfriend, Mary, I got here and she was in the bathtub. The men are trying to help her.” One of the men exited the bathroom and out the door. The officer followed him. I waited.

When the two men returned, the officer had a camera and the other man was pushing a gurney. I saw the flash of the camera overcome the darkness in the apartment. It repeated periodically. The gurney came back, I went over to the men pushing it. “Is she going to be okay?”

“I’m afraid not son, can you tell me the name of the deceased?’

Who died?

I stood and stared at the man. Eventually He put his hand on my shoulder, “Can you tell me your girlfriend’s name?”

“Mary Fields”

“What’s your name?”

“John Light.”

“Does she have a next of kin or emergency contact?”

“She just has me.”

“Okay son, you need to step out of the way.” I returned to the couch.

When the officer returned he was holding a plastic bag with a needle in it. “Son, what was your girlfriend’s name?”

“Mary Fields”

“What’s your name?”

“John Light.”

“What time did you get back here?”

“I don’t know.”

“Was Mary on any drugs?”

“She used to be, but she quit.”

“Addicts tend to lie, son. We’re going to need some information.’ The men pushed the gurney back out.

“Her purse is by the door.””

It’s okay I can ask you some questions later, do you have a phone?” I handed him my cell phone. “I meant the number.” I relayed the information. “Are you all right son?” I shook my head. “Do you have anyone you can call?”