Family Short Story – Drown
Photo credit: rachjose from morguefile.com
It was a pleasant day in June when people gathered around. It was a day meant to be enjoyed, thoroughly taken in, but despite, everyone gathered around.
There were hushed cries and muffled whispers. Some were pitying, some were emotionless. I silthered into the crowd, past the people to see for myself. They gathered around the corpse of a man unknown to anyone. In the crowd of twenty-six, none knew who this man was.
I looked at the person carefully– my eyes scanning his face, trying to match it with someone I might have known but I came up with nothing. I just stood there, a sundry body amongst many, thinking where he’d come from. I heard someone say he was pushed off the bridge. Others say he jumped off himself. The latter being for real. I just stood there, waiting for someone official to come. I wondered why no one was checking for breath or life. Maybe someone already did, I thought.
After some time, someone called for a priest. He was dressed in his robes with a band of purple hanging from his shoulders. He bent on his knees and made a prayer for him. It was only now that I noticed the corpse. He was looking peaceful, no lines marred his forehead, or cloud hung over him. The water from his jacket was still slowly finding its way back to the river. The priest, unwillingly, checked his pockets for some identification, so that he could name him in the prayer. He found, amongst nothing, a damp envelope.
“Read it, Father.”
A voice broke through the stillness. I was shocked to find it was actually I who said those words. I didn’t know why I uttered those words, even though they weren’t the first of my thoughts. But as I said it, I thought of the poor man lying cold and dead, unidentified.
“He shouldn’t have to die in such a way,” someone else said.
“Yes, Father, read it. Tell us who he is.”
Hesitantly, the Father carefully opened the envelope, trying hard not to tear it. The letter was smudged yet readable.
“Dear Faye,” the Father said aloud.
“If you are reading this, I am most probably dead. No, definitely dead. I just wrote this to tell you I am sorry. I tried. I tried to tell you how sorry I am, but you won’t listen. You are right, you don’t have to listen to me say these words. You are the one who told me that I’d told them to you so many times that it has lost all its meaning. Yes, my apologies has all lost meaning to you.
But how can you understand any of them when you are just staring into the wall, away from my face? It is hard, I understand. I am sorry, I broke our vows. I did not support you through sickness and health, like we promised. I just cannot behold you in your demented tears. We were to last forever, you know? Just like all of my friends said and yours too. That we could not have been happier. But I was a liar and you were a believer. How obvious was that. I lied and told you that I could take care of you and our family but I didn’t, did I?
I never meant to break your sweet heart. I never did. It just happened, I could say. And you could just let me take the couch but oh dear, I couldn’t. I could not. I could not watch you try to forgive me. I am sorry, it is all my fault.
It is all my fault that at that very moment, I had lost all my senses. I did not know where my head was at and I just turned away for one, fateful second. It was just one second, darling. One second and we lost everything. I knew I should have listened to you and not just walk out of the door when you said that I didn’t have time for you. I should have just done something. I am so sorry that I neglected you and your absolute words.
It is my fault, I admit now. I turned. For one second and all was over. For just one stupid phone call. It was too late, she was already in the water. I heard her splash in and never scream out. I am sorry. I am responsible for Lily’s death. Our little girl, she could never swim out of it. And I am just turning myself in. For if I had been a better husband to you and a better father to her, we would all be happy. You, me and Lily.
Love, now and always
I just stood there. I did nothing and felt absolutely nothing but dread. I saw the crowd dissipate but I just stood there, stunned as I looked at the corpse, and all that he had been through. His face was decisive in ways because none could have imagined at he was so sorrowed.
It was the look on his face– pleasant and at peace, that shook me to the core. He drowned in the water, but to tell you the truth, he was already drowning in the pain of losing his daughter to carelessness and then his wife to the sorrow and then finally, himself to hopelessness.
It wasn’t just gravity that drowned him, it was the weight of the whole wide world resting quietly atop his head.
__END__
