Screams. The sound of rubber screaming towards the road. Lights flashing, making me blind. Headlights. Screams. Blood.
I put my head in my hands, elbows resting on my thighs. I attempt deep breaths, but my lungs feels like sunburnt acid. I’m not crying. I’m barely present, sitting here on that damn plastic chair with loads of old gum under the seat and a suspicious stain at the side. I’m shaking, though I can barely notice it. I notice nothing but slight flashes before my eyes.
Screams. The sound of something being hit. Glass breaking. I can hear my own voice yell. The car hits a lamppost and stops. The driver is hanging in his seat, bleeding like only dead people can. Smoke and fire. I hear my own voice scream her name over and over. I fall to my knees. Despite my panic, a gentle touch. So quiet. So pale.
I stare at the clock. The seconds move by slowly, slowly. I rub my hands together. Twist my wedding ring. To the end of eternity.
A white coat shows up. He’s tall with a clear look in his eyes, hair groomed to the right and a deep wrinkle in his forehead. A man of concentrated work.
“Mr. Alistair …”
I need not to hear more. I run past him and into the room at the end of the hall. 707. She’s the only one in there. A lonely bed by the window, bathed in the grey light of dawn that is slipping through the curtains, and she almost looks like a doll. A doll with flaming red hair.
Gently, I take her hand in mine. With shaky lips, I kiss her forehead. The shattering pain in my chest is forcing a tear in my eye to slowly fall down my cheek. She smiles at me, one last time, and whispers with a damaged voice. She knows what’s going to happen.
“My love for you … is the only thing I’ve felt this strong.”
I shake my head slowly. Tear by tear frees itself from the corner of my eye, and everything but her beautiful face becomes a distant blur. My voice is choked as I attempt to speak.
“You gave me everything, Kaly. Please don’t … please don’t die.” She squishes my hand gently, with the little strength she still has.
“This is not the end of forever”, I whisper.
“I love you, Night.”
For the last time, I let my lips stroke hers. The kiss is so light it is barely a touch, but with that single touch, I forge every single emotion I’ve ever owned towards her. All my love and gratefulness, even annoyance and anger. Everything, to make her understand how she made me more than just a boring guy accepting a life or ordinance. Everything, to make her understand how she made me a wild one. A wild one who loved her through all the crazy.
“I love you”, I whisper.
She meets my eyes one last time. Then … the fire fades away, in the grey, dim light of a dawn I will never forgive.
“Who are you?”
Her hair, red like a raging flame.
Her eyes, raging with crazy love and a thirst for adventure.
Her smile, so daring it could make a man jump off a bridge in the belief of defiling gravity. When she spoke, there was a secret note in her voice telling me what I would learn to know as ever truth itself. The truth of love, craze and reckless.
“I am the wild one. “
I once met a girl, wild and crazy like the stories I dreamt of as a child. She would glance at the sunset with a calm smile on her cherry lips, then turn to me with a flaming passion in her eyes. Needless to say, my boring life and steady heart was turned, smashed and thrown off a cliff, moments after her entering my life. And I loved it.
I remember how she would look at me, shake her head, and tell me what a boring person I was. Something in that teasing tone of hers always made me join her for whatever craze she spontaneously wandered into. I would find myself on a rooftop with stolen fireworks, or at the edge of the world wearing nothing but shorts and a single sock. And I would never be scared.
I remember how she made me fall in love. How her laughter, her extreme mind and ever expanding creativity made the world a dream. How she would indulge me on her wicked adventures, and how she made me open up to something beyond the imagination of a boring person.
I remember how we walked the streets of Dublin, Ireland, close to Christmas eve. The streets of lights and beautiful décor had made her tear up, and I had held her tightly. She had told me that she loved me. I had told her that I wanted to marry her. That I wanted to be together to the end of eternity.
I had never imagined that the end of eternity would be so swift and brutal. I had never imagined that it would leave me behind. But more than anything …
I had never imagined that I would see the flames of the wild one die.