Romance Fiasco

Romance Fiasco

‘How could I live without you? How would I survive, without your love? ’

The deeply-drawn words reverberated in her mind, rekindling the cold familiarity of her room. Emily had just returned from a date with her boyfriend at their favorite hangout. But that date and night was not to be reflected in her diary’s entry.

No, it deserved to belong in a horror fiction book.

Martin, her beloved boyfriend of almost half a decade, had proposed a separation.

An ambitious young man of twenty, he thought that investing in a girl was not profitable in the long run. Cape-land was Martin’s ultimate dream and goal, not her. Emily was one of the last few barriers to his achieving it, and therefore must be removed.

The relationship had been nothing much to Martin, but a break-up to Emily was the equivalent of the greatest devastation ever happened to mankind. Vivid memories of their shared times lodged themselves in the back of her mind, refusing to be erased but crying out to be remembered instead. Whenever the couple was together, their surroundings would be magically transformed to paradise. Emily could have sworn even the fearsome crow appeared eagle-like in Martin’s presence.

It seemed like a fantasy.

Emily sat in a corner of her room, remembering. That particular corner was of great significance to her. Martin had given her his first kiss at that very spot, a soft touch that still lingered on Emily’s moist cheek, unbroken by tears of sorrow.

He said he loved her, and that she would always be the top priority of his life.
‘I will never let go of you’
As she recalled him promising to be by her side through storms and winds, she thought she shouldn’t have believed him wholeheartedly then.

The low-struck Emily never thought that Martin’s ambitiousness would hinder their relationship, She thought, believed that their love could overwrite all and everything else in the world. But Martin had proved her otherwise.

The antique clock ticked on loudly in the silence, mocking her with its ever-steady rhythmic beats. Emily reached out with a burning fury to smash it, but her anger dissolved as she looked at it.

Martin’s hand was open in an invitation, calling her to take and accept it. Emily felt herself drawn by an invisible force towards him, but fought and withdrew. Remembering how deeply he had hurt her.

The illusion dissipated, leaving Emily to stare at the ebony wood of her clock.

How could she have let him go?

Her reverie was shattered by an insistent knocking on the door. ‘Honey, its Martin on the other line, come down and receive it.’ Emily did not reply, immediately, she forced her mind to sail into a comforting realm of fantasy; an ethereal world where Dad’s incessant calls to ‘hurry up and get it’ would always be shut out. Her despair welling up in the bleeding silence-she dreaded Martin’s lowly soft voice. Couldn’t her dad come up with some excuse, knowing that it was all over between them?

Despite her seemingly uncaring attitude, Emily knew that she would and could not let Martin off so easily. Not when she had so much with him, she was determined to get it all back.

‘How could I live without you? How would I survive, without your love?’ Her cell phone rang, the words slashing her with a thousand knives. It had to be Martin, no one else.

In a dizzying flush of raw emotions, she gingerly cradled the phone into her hands.

‘Hello?’ Emily answered, suddenly devoid of emotion.
Silence flooded the other line.
And then, ‘Emily, I’m just here to let you know that I’m sorry if I had…’
‘Alright’ Interrupted Emily.
‘You sure you’re ok?’ The sound of his voice hurt. Its familiar sweet warmth threatened to bring on a wave of nausea.
‘Why! Martin you feckless jerk!’ She cursed under a torrent of tears.

She just could not accept the fact. Martin had been so crucial in her life. But apparently she didn’t mean as much to him.

Emily’s room was unusually silent. It had been so for well over an hour. The usual rustle of her lace-trimmed bedspread and the blasting of the tiny transistor radio she always switched on in the mornings were strangely absent.

The very next day, Emily did not turn up for breakfast at the usual dining table. Her parents thought little of it at first, assuming that their daughter was still recovering from the effects of Martin’s last phone call.

Though their anxiety increased several notches throughout the day when she skipped lunch as well, the last straw came when Emily did not answer repeated calls to join her family for dinner.

Her furious parents stormed up to her room and tried to force it open. But all they could hear was the melodious chiming of Emily’s clock. Anxious, they searched frantically for the spare key that they had kept. To much of their dismay, it was nowhere to be found.

No! Emily would not do silly things. No! She won’t! She won’t! Her mother thought, trying very hard to convince her chaotic mind that Emily would be fine and that she’s just going through another stage of life.