Living Without Her

Crimson Echo Dixon is now 23 years old. She was 17 when her girlfriend, Lana Jane Parks, was severely burned in a house fire and died a day later. Everyday, she thinks about her. Crimson wonders if she'll ever let Lana go.

This is Crimson's life, and it still feels like Lana is in control.

This is the sequel to "My Angel".


3. Attempt

I wake up and the last hints of blue are fading into the night sky. I check my watch, 5:30. There's an unfamiliar blanket covering. I silently thank whoever put it there and just sit on the ground, shaking from the cold.

"Don't go," the ghost voice of Lana says.

"But baby, I have to. I don't want to," my memory answers back.

"Can't you stay just another hour? Please?"

With a heavy sigh, my voice replies, "Alright, but if I get in trouble, it's on you."

I sit with my thoughts and wonder if it's normal to be this way. Do normal people here their loved ones' voices?

The drive home is long and filled with the same thoughts I've had for years. Should I go?

it would be so easy to crash my car into a tree, hang myself in the bathroom, cut a vain deeply, yet I don't, I don't understand why. I have no one stopping me.

My therapist years ago said that Lana would want me to continue living, move on, and be happy. I don't understand how I can be happy without her. I couldn't stop thinking about her then, and I can't know either.

When I get home, I lay on my bed and think. There were so many times I could of told her "I love you", but didn't because I was afraid. I only told her once off the influence of substances and alcohol. I tried to say it through my kisses, but it's not the same I realize.

"Lana, if you can hear me, please, give a sign," I whisper into the darkness. "Anything, please!"

I go in the bathroom and stare at the reflection of a tired-looking women with matted hair and soggy clothing. Her eyes are bloodshot red and her face looks like it hasn't smiled in years.

I open the medicine cabinet and take out old prescription pills, painkillers, anything and everything.

"Lana. please, if you can hear me, if you still care, you'll stop me."

I fill a cup that sits by the sink with water and start downing the medications. I don't feel the effect right away, so I continue  taking more, until all the prescriptions are gone, most the painkillers, and a combination of other pills.

"I thought you loved me." I drop to the floor, too tired to stand anymore. My body greets the ground with a loud thud.

"Miss Dixon, are you okay?" I hear a voice shout from outside the apartment.


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