What's Left of It. (Final)

I finally had enough of this life, after living 5 years with my boyfriend, Fred. The romantic and peaceful life that I longed for from before is certainly not coming back, he’s now addicted to all-night partying and drinking with his college buddies. Tonight he came home, staggering from the front door to the bathroom. He sat on the floor next to the toilet, spewing his contents out of his mouth all over the white bathroom floor and the toilet seat, as he missed the toilet bowl, then passed out with his red haired head laying on the toilet seat. Looking at his pale lips, I see saliva dangling off the side; his pale face that used to be so full of expression depressed me.

What happened to the guy that used to cook me dinner before my big final exam in college, and buy me flowers because he was so sure that I would ace it? Looking at him sleeping in the bathroom, is this the queue for me to start over and find back the life that was mine? Instead of lingering on the memories of my past and ignoring what’s happened to it? I went back to the living room, staring at my diner for two that’s now cold. I stormed to my room and packed my bag, I did not even look back once as I went out the front door and hailed the nearest cab. The driver asked me a question that I wasn’t even sure of how to answer, where are you going? My best friend Lisa’s face popped into my head, her smile so radiant it cheered me up. The question was answered then and there.

As I arrived at her house, I rang the doorbell that sent an annoyingly loud and cheerful melody through out the house. After much silence, the door cracked open with her beaming down on me. Suddenly a wave of emotion over came me and I embraced her and cried like I’ve never cried before. The girl who know me better than I know myself led me to her room, where I spent the night spilling my heart out and ruining any chance of me having normal, not puffy and bloodshot eyes the next morning. That night I fell, into an uneasy slumber with my mind left wonder, bring out all the memories that I had with Fred. The picnic last spring with cherry blossoms falling from above as the wind rattled the tree that Fred and I sat under, surrounded by lush grass, he serenaded me with love songs and poems that would even make birds sing along. But that was before, now we are in two different worlds of despair, him alone with hangovers and mine alone crying over him.

Suddenly in the darkness were a pair of bloodshot hazel eyes staring at me blankly, above those sat a bush of blood red tangled bunch of hair. Clearly it was Fred, but why was he in my room? How did he even get in here? Is he going to apologize and say that he will change for the better? Instead he just stood there, staring at me with dull glassy bloodshot eyes, in a flash. He reached out to me and grabbed a fist full of my hair, and dragged me off the bed and pinned me to the wooden floor. I don’t feel pain, instead looking up to him; I see fury in his eyes and his eyebrows knitted together in the middle.

I’m struggling against him, kicking, flailing, and trying to scream for help. Yet nothing is coming out of my open mouth, like a fish out of water. Why can’t I scream? Why don’t I have any energy to push him off of me? What is he trying to do? I twisted around under him, trying to crawl out. Then I feel Fred’s hands grasp around my neck, slowly his grip is getting tighter and tighter, as I tried to free myself I twisted around again. All of the sudden, all the air rushed out of my lungs as I gasped. I thought to myself, he’s really trying to kill me! As I struggle to free myself, it feels as if my eyes were bulging out of their sockets. My head is thumping with my heart; it feels like an overinflated balloon, ready to burst any minute. Slowly before me, I see Fred’s pile of red hair starting to fade to grey and black, like the static on a broken TV screen, but this time it’s me that’s breaking. I don’t want to die! I still have a life to live, I still have to get married to a sober man who loves me and have kids that I will love. I’m starting to lose feeling in my legs; it feels as if death is crawling feet first up to my body. Is this what it feels like to be paralyzed? Is this what I get for leaving him?

I reached out my hands, trying to claw for his face in a last attempt to free myself, but I just can’t seem to reach him. Why is he so far away? As the grip around my neck gets tighter, it’s almost euphoric. It feels like the room is a Tea Cup ride in the carnival, it goes around and around until everything becomes nothing. There’s no more hope, the song The End by The Doors starts to play in my head. The end, beautiful friend, this is the end, my only friend the end.

Ding-dong! The annoyingly loud doorbell rang out; it jerked me back to my senses. As I opened my eyes, the sun in the room is shining; cool soothing air refills my lungs. Breathing in and out, I looked around my room. Where’s Fred? What just happened? I sat up, looking down I see my bed sheets curled around my neck tightly. I ripped it away from my neck and threw it on the ground, next to the pillow laying there discarded. My usual morning drowsiness doesn’t set in; instead I’m wide-awake with adrenaline pumping through my veins. My heart raced as I survey the surroundings, I got up slowly from the bed. My water cup on the bed stand next to me lay toppled over, water flowing across the desk in a stream that turns into a waterfall off my desk into a pool on the floor. The sun is shining through my curtains that are floating as the breeze push up against it. I stood there startled as my realization that it wasn’t Fred choking me; it was the bed sheet that was wrapped around my neck.

Ding-dong, I walked slowly to the door and peeked through the peephole. The view was blocked by flowers that was pushed up against it, slowly opening the door, I realize standing outside was a person with clean-shaven face, and twinkling eyes that I haven’t seen for a while. It was the Fred from my past memory, before the hardcore partying and drinking that took the young and clean look away from him. He started off my saying: “I went to rehab this morning…”. The rest is history.