twins

As I lay on the cold, marble floor of my living room, blinded by bitter, guilty tears, I could feel that I am loosing them both. My vision sprints off into a hectic spin as another wave of tears crushes against my eyelids and bursts out with a powerful yet weak sob. With every blink, I brush them off; with every sob my mind throws back the painful episode of my life, letting it replay so clearly, making it feel like I’m living through that moment again and again. There is an unpleasant, heavy feeling deep inside me, I think that is what keeping me here, on this marble floor, it runs in my blood, spreading throughout my body, like a silent killer, it poisons me. Click. Like a gunshot, the door slammed, letting the echo shatter my pathetic self. Click.
“I never loved you…” Click. And I lay here quivering in agony; silently wandering where did this all, go wrong.

I recon it took a wrong turn few months ago, when my husband, Roy, left for a business trip. It was a late December night, it wasn’t snowing for once, and it was a perfect night for a girl’s night out.
“Come here girl, this one is for you!”
“Cheers”
“And this is for you to celebrate your three-week freedom!” I was never a fan of gin and tonic, but I loved Kim, and I had a pretty damn good reason for celebration. Not that I hate my husband, no, he’s in fact a very sweet guy, the only problem is that he is 20 years older than me. Lets say we are two different people.
“Thanks, Kim, really need something stronger though”
“Well tough luck babe, but I aint getting pissed tonight!” she shook her frizzy hair and gave the “oh no you didn’t” look.
“What was that for?”
“You aint getting pissed either! Unless you want to be a frigging loner like that thing over there” with a sly glance she pointed at a red faced, overweight woman in the far corner of the bar, dragging on her cigarette. Occasionally she would stick her tongue out and search for the straw in the nicotine soaked air. This all is followed by a series of snorts as she gulped down the blue, toxic drink.
“Aw c’mon, Clair? I hope you’re gonna be a real friend?” I threw one of my most adorable puppy eyes, which I had practiced many times in front of my mirror-don’t ask why. But she too, looked down and shook her head apologetically.
“Aw you guys! And you call your selves real friends!”
“We are real friends, but unlike you, we don’t have rich ass husbands, who burry us in money and gifts…”
“I thought you didn’t have a problem with that…”
“We don’t… its just you need to understand the fact that we do have to work for our living, and we do have to be somewhere by 6 a.m. sharp tomorrow morning…” I could feel the awkward tension gathering up between us, becoming a more powerful force with every single empty second, full of unspoken words, apologies.
“It’s ok guys, I’ll be fine, don’t worry about me…I will stay for few more drinks though…” I comforted them with a weak smile, slowly their faces relaxed and responded with a wink.
“Catch yah later…” and they were gone. I watched them stomp through the crowd, demandingly nudging people with their bony elbows. If only they knew how much it sucked being a wife of a famous, wealthy man, with expectations and standards. I remember those days when I used to be just like them, having to work hard for little, and I hated it with all my heart. I always thought that having a rich husband and not having to work is every girls dream. But once I am that girl with a rich husband, pretending to be a stuck up bitch, I want it all back. Its funny how we take things for granted, and how much you appreciate those little things in life that you never used to notice, and the only reason you do now is that you lost it all.

I let out a heavy, long sigh, and don’t notice the same blue drink that the overweight woman was drinking parked right beside my arm. I let out a nasty yawn, my hands automatically stretch out, knocking over the glass, sending its contents onto my white blouse, which automatically turns see through, with a slight hint of blue. The shock of the freezing liquid against my skin makes me gasp, and with a quake I fly off my barstool, which with a loud rumble falls on top of me. I could feel the warmth of someone’s breath against my breasts, and you may as well put a picture of me in the dictionary next to the word – Murphy’s Law, I find a young guy lying underneath me, gasping for air. But the heavy barstool is heavy enough to prevent any movement of my legs, and I have nothing else to do but lie here on top of this handsome stranger.
“I am so sorry!” I cry apologetically, in effort to elevate my chest and let the poor thing breathe. I knew it was a bad idea to let Roy make that boob job happen. This was getting worse by seconds, I could feel his boner digging into my leg, and I soon realize why.
“It’s not a freaking wet t-shit party, so don’t bloody look!” I turn red with embarrassment, the shirt was completely see-through, but to my astonishment he suddenly turned pink with guilt and looked as embarrassed as I was. I was ready to forgive him, as he truly was absolutely gorgeous! His messy fair hair, scattered all over his forehead, slightly covering his hazel eyes, which quickly escaped the shirt, but met my, admiring gaze. Those eyes said it all, they captured my reflection and drowned me in it. We both look away, smiling to our selves. I never understood the saying of the butterflies in the stomach until now. Those weren’t butterflies- those were bloody birds! His eyes met mine, and for a single moment, everything froze, it was long enough for me to completely fall down the cliff of love. I felt the barstool elevate, and I was free to go. Part of my sighed with relief but a bigger part of me wanted to scream and shout, just to remain there a moment longer.
“Umm, would you please let me go? You’re kinda lying on my hand, which has been digging into my thigh for a while now…” of course. Look at me; what guy would get a boner of such an ordinary thing. His voice was soothing, calm; it melted like chocolate, making me want him even more.
“So, so sorry” He must have noticed the flushed cheeks, because he smiled teasingly at me, and as I attempted to get off him, his delicious hot lips, gently landed on my cheek, making those birds flip and turn inside my tummy. My eyes still closed, I slouched there enjoying the lingering touch, still elevated over his confident body, but when I opened them again, he was long gone. Out of my life. Forever. There was an accident. A consequence of drunk driving and icy roads. That night a young man died. And I happened to know him.

“Kim? Hey, can I speak to Kim please. No. It’s an emergency. Yes. Yes. No! You little pervert!” on the other end of the phone, a little; squeaky voice shouted something out before making another row of sexual comments.
“Kim! Where the hell is your cell phone? I’ve been trying to reach you for ages! And don’t let that little bastard pick up the phone again. How old is he, 12?”
“Hi, sorry, my battery died, yeah something like that, don’t worry, I will move out once I’ve got the money…” I could hear the hesitation in her voice, as the topic transformed into the money problems, and the awkward tension arose.
“Anyhow…”
“Anyways, what was is that you wanted? Emergency?” her voice sounded a bit more relieved, now that the topic was changed.
“Yeh, have you seen the paper?”
“What am I, 50? I’m too young to waste my time and money on that…ok I have, what’s up?”
“Have you seen that article on the accident?”
“Yeh, what about it?”
“I met that guy last night!”
“Serious?” her dull, expressionless voice gave away the fact that she was no longer interested in this conversation. In fact anything bored her, if it wasn’t about shopping, gossip or guys.
“Yeh, serious. Now please try and sound even a little bit interested? If you do we can go shopping, and I can get you that Christmas present you wanted so bad.”
“That silvery dress, with those stunning black boots?” now there we go, the goose is cooked, she took the bait.