Love don't die


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1. Part one

They say that if you love something, you let it go, and If it doesn't come back it was never yours to begin with. 

They where right.

I can't stand it anymore. The sheets smelled like him, the walls smelled like him, the couch smelled like him, even my clothes smelled like him. Every single thing I saw in this house reminded me of him. 

My hand stroked his pillow. I choked back a few tears. On his bedside table was a picture of me and him, his blue eyes stood out from everything else in the photo. His slicked up hair, and big bright smile. He looked so happy in the photo, it made no sense why he had to take his life so soon. 

Reluctantly, I picked up the frame and examined his face. He had that same big cheeky smile he had in all of his photos, almost as if that where his trade mark. Silently, I set the frame down, but watched in terror as the picture fell right off the table and smashed onto the ground. 

I grabbed my shaking hand and cuffed my wrist, resisting the urge to scream. The glass was shattered, yet stayed in its place. Almost like me. 

I felt a relation to the broken glass. I was the frame, fragile and all the while tragically fated for an end. We where all broken frames, it only took one drop to break everything, yet at the same time it only took one shard to hold us together. 

I picked up the ruptured frame and sighed, carefully packing it into my roll on case.
I cracked the window open so that you could hear the faint humming of the wind and occasionally the scratching sound of a leaf being drug along the road. Personally, a calming sound to me. I drug my feet across the room, pulling open the closet doors. Slowly I emptied my half, leaving the other half for his parents, who should be here soon. I was now on the floor, packing in the remains of my shoes when a sliver of bright blue in his gray variated wardrobe caught my eye. Carelessly I zipped up the bag and pulled away the surrounding clothes to fully expose the cloth. 

It was a familiar look, not much when you first look at it. A casual blue hoodie with any old college logo on it. But it was more then just a hoodie to me, this hoodie was the one I vaguely remembered from our first date. I could easily recall how he screwed up every punch line, how every time I looked away I could feel him still watching, how he told me that it took him forever to get the guts to ask me out, again. A wave of nausea flew over me, the word 'again' pierced me like a knife. I needed to keep that hoodie. Needed. 

Bursting through the silence came my alarm, I reached for my phone to stop the alarm, knowing that his parents should definetley be here soon. I stuffed the hoodie in my bag not thinking twice about anything. I stood up, surveying the rest of the room, making sure there was not a thing left. 

Feeling satisfied with how quickly I got it over with I grabbed my bag and went Down stairs. Greeted by the sound of a car pulling up in the front of the house. 

Sure enough it was his parents, when I opened the door I saw Mr. and Mrs. Ethridge. They where silent, with gloomy looks in their eyes. Mr. Ethridge looked at his wife, avoiding eye contact with me. They where taking over the house until they could get full closure on their son. It was said that They wanted me out immediately. 
Mrs. Ethridge's eyes dodged mine as I tried making contact, I slowly nodded, realizing her pain. I slid past the mourning couple and Without words I left the house, not daring to look back.

 

I drove up to My aunts house. I had never been particularly close to her, but she had always been there. She would remember my birthdays and such, the normal thing but it wasn't until her husbands death when she stopped communicating with the world. 

She had just heard the word of my Fiancé's death and she was ready to share her house with me. She felt empathetic for me, I guess you could say. 

I walked up to her door step, leaving my bags in the car. Before I could knock, the door creaked open. Standing there was my Aunt Demetria. She was about 75, but looked young for her age. She extended out one arm and patted my back, murmuring some unknown sentence. "Come In. Come in." She said clearer, motioning me inside. I followed her into the living room. 

She sure was organized for a woman of her age. Inside was really bright, and color coordinated, Everything had a place and everything that could be labeled, was labeled. The remote, the dvr, the power button on the tv, most of the drawers. I could almost feel the OCD. 
"So, was he handsome." 
I nodded and sniffed,
"Yeah he was." 
She smiled at me,
"Sometimes it still feels like Derrick is still right next to me." 
Aunt Demetria looked to the left of her, then to the right,
"Where'd you go?"
She whistled,
"heere Jenkins, heere pretty kitty."

Out running came a white cat from behind the couch. Jenkins swiveled between her legs and purred. She reached down to pay his little head,
"He's been keeping me company this whole time. And of course I have some guests over every once and a while.
So I'm not a total cat lady." 
I smirked.
"Oh god, I forgot. Here take this." 

She handed me a neatly folded sheet of paper, When I took it out of her hand I could feel the coldness from her fingers. I nodded awkwardly and unfolded the sheet. It was a map.
"A map?" I asked, in kindve a 'seriously' tone of voice. Aunt Demitria nodded and smiled smugly,
"I've highlighted your room in pink, the bathrooms in blue, and- well you'll get it." She tapped my sheet, before walking out of the living room into the kitchen. 

I sighed, closely studying the map. One thing that stood out was those in which was highlighted in red, Red- strictly DO NOT no matter what go in.
It sent a shiver down my spine, what was so bad I noticed that she had highlighted two areas, the basement and the attic. The basement, I understood, creepy shit goes on in the basement, but the attic? I pursed my lips, searching for my room, very faintly in pink was a small rectangular room right by the attic. My finger traced a path from my room to the living room, according to this there where steps right around this corner and then a hallway at the top. 

I turned around and grabbed my bags, rolling them up the steps ever so slowly. Clunk. Clunk. Clunk. 
All the way up the wooden staircase. The upstairs hallway was a different atmosphere, it was colder, no light fixtures. There was a single window at the end that let in shreds of glowing light, highlighting the floating particles in the air. I took in a deep breath, it smelled different up here too, downstairs it smelled of Cinnamon Apple candles, where as upstairs was like a coppery must. 

I trudged down the hallway, and counted the doors, 
"One 
Two
Three."
I stopped in front of the third door and looked back down at the map. "This is it." I murmured to myself pushing open the door. The door clicked open and inside was not much, a standard white dresser with a lamp on the top. In the corner was an old queen sized bed with a beautiful quilt, right beside the bed was a huge window, letting in a great amount of light, highlighting every part of the room. I set down my bag and sat down on the edge of my bed, positioning myself to see right out of the window.

It was a magnificent sight, 


Of our neighbors widow. 


They had a bricked house, no particular pattern in color, but I guess no brick houses had a pattern. The window had sheer curtains, ones in which you would only be able to see faint silhouettes through. The ones in those fancy old movies, where you'd see the beautiful maiden emerge from behind to see her true love for the first time. Naturally I was intrigued, I got up from my bed and stood infront of the window. To my surprise I saw the curtain start to ruffle and shake, then it swept to the side. I was dazed by the sight, stood their was a younger man, I wasn't able to make out strict facial features, but I was able to tell that he was smiling. I waved, smiling back. His hand swayed sighed side to side then just like that he disappeared to behind the curtain. 

I felt warm and snug, unlike everything else around me. I opened the window to let in some air, the wind gusted inside and ruffled the map across the room. I rushed to pick it up, observing it one more time. The attic, drifted through my mind. I looked up from the map, to see a small hatch in the ceiling, said to lead to the attic. 


Curiosity killed the cat.

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