Hope, Depression, Love & Fractured Hearts: A Collection of Short Stories & Other Pieces of Writing

by Bradley Atchison

  The couch was indented from his body, and though a mattress lay on the level below, he kept his vow of not going back there. “Why?” He couldn't explain, it was almost as if he grew out of it, no longer belonged there on the lower level, he was above it now, and here he would stay. It had been a long time also since he looked in on the statue, which was another thing he would not do, so here he sat on his couch staring at his white walls.

  "One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten," he counted, "One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten," and then laughing, "Eleven!" Over and over he counted, he counted his eyes, his legs, his hands, his arms. He never knew before, that from his elbow to his wrist on his left arm for instance, that he had forty-six freckles, on his right only thirty-one. He counted the number of times he crossed the room, with a normal step it took him between twenty-two and twenty-four. He counted whatever he could to pass the time, "One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten."

  The days continued from sleep to sleep, never varying, never changing until that day! He woke as normal, and looked out the window on the wall across from the couch.

  Window

  "Window," he spoke out loud. "I see a window!" slowly he climbed to his feet and looked at the glass and frame before him. Looking around the room he looked for another change but found none. Turning back, he stared at the window almost daring it to disappear from sight. He took one step then another, slowly, cautiously, and before he knew it he reached out and touched the glass to reassure himself that it in fact was real. It was! He tried to lookout the window but all he saw was greyness, almost as if a fog lay just beyond blocking everything else from view. No matter which way he looked, nothing but the greyness came into sight.

  "But at least its real!" he spoke quickly, excitedly. "It is real!" and he ran his hand along the frame feeling the grainy texture of the white wood. That in itself was remarkable to Steven, it never had the same smooth finish the walls, floor, or roof had, it felt different, grittier! The glass felt like glass beneath his hands and it was cooler! Cooler than the walls and it brought him hope!

  "Maybe it actually looks outside!" he spoke joyously, "Even though I can not see what is beyond, there must at least be away out of here!" He examined the window, looking at it carefully. Cautiously he brought his hands back, and then with one swift motion brought, them against the window, hoping to break it! The glass shook and groaned slightly but next to that it looked as if nothing happened to it. Again he swung, his hands closed, and once more he solidly struck the glass, hoping to see a crack! "Nothing!" he shook his head in wonderment, "Nothing happened!"

  Steven looked around the empty room, looking for something he could use to strike the glass, but all he could see was the couch and that he knew he couldn't lift to use. He looked across the room at the door he vowed not to enter again. Shaking his head in disgust he walked the short distance and opened the door. Everything was the same in the small room as it was when he last was in it. The statue still sat in the white wing chair, the stone-carved paper still held up before him. Next to the statue and chair nothing else was visible to help him with the window.

  Steven walked to the statue and looked at it. The thinnest piece of carving seemed to be the paper and Steven questioned himself if he could break it. "There's only one way to find out," he told himself as he grabbed the top of the stone paper. Using all his strength he pushed on the edge hoping to snap some of it off. "Aghhh," he yelled as he pushed, his arms shook from exertion and his wrists ached, but still the statue remained whole. "Give me some help!" he pleaded as he looked to the ceiling of the room, "Please, just a little piece, to help!" With his back strainingand his legs braced slightly apart, he pushed all of his weight against the statue. "Damn it!" he screamed as he released his grip and stood back. "Damn it all!" He fell to the floor and laid in the fetal position his arms pulling his knees to his chest. "Why do you taunt me! Why, why must you keep me in this place only to taunt me!" he whispered into his chest and the tears began to flow freely from his eyes.

  He didn't know how long he laid like that, but his body seemed to ache and groan as he pulled himself up the statue to stand. He looked once at the statue before turning, and walking from the room slamming the door behind him as he exited. The window seemed to laugh at him as he walked back into the room. It looked to him almost like a big opened mouth grin, and he was sure that it laughed at his futileness. "Damn you!" he yelled at the window. With a quick jump he ran and with about two feet from the window he launched himself into the air, his shoulder he braced, as he crashed it into the window, "Crack damn it! Crack!" He yelled as he took the brunt of the impact on his shoulder, hoping to hear the window crack beneath his onslaught! The window still remained intact as the blow forced him to crumple on the floor. He rolled in pain as his shoulder felt like he dislocated it. "No, no, no, no, no, no," he sobbed quietly, "please, no more, you win."

  No answer came to his pleading.

  Miranda

  Steven didn't know when he fell asleep, but sleep he did before the window, on the floor.

  "Steven," he heard a voice ask, startling him awake. "Steven, can you hear me hun?" she asked.

  "Yes, yes I can," he moaned as his shoulder screamed in pain as he forced himself up from the floor.

  "I love you Steven, I love you."

  "I love you to Miranda," Steven spoke out. "Miranda!" he spoke aloud again, "Miranda! I know who you are, you're Miranda, my fiancée, I hear you, I hear you!" he yelled excitedly.

  "Steven?" Miranda seemed to ask questioningly, "Steven, can you hear me!"

  "Yes Miranda, yes I can, I'm here!"

  "Steven, Steven you moved! Steven can you hear me, Nurse, Nurse!" she yelled. "Steven, hold onto my voice, don't let it go Steven, don't let it go, I love you hun, come back to me."

  "Miranda, I hear you, where are you?" he asked as he searched the room for her, "Where are you my dear, why do you hide? Where are you?"

  "Steven, don't let go, don't let go Steven, come to me, Nurse, Nurse," she seemed to yell! "Nurse he's here I can feel it!"

  "Miranda, where are you dear, where are you, why do you call for a nurse, I'm here call for me." Steven was running frantically now, the pain in his shoulder long forgotten. He stopped at the window stared out looking for something, anything. "Miranda! Where are you?"

  "Steven, " he heard again, "Steven, Steven, Steven," the voice was getting quieter as if getting further away, "Steven, hold on, hold on Stev.....en," it finally slipped away and he heard her no more.

  "NO!" he screamed as he fell to the floor again, "No Miranda, please don't go, I don't want to be alone anymore, "I don't want to be alone! Please let me go home, let me go home, I'll promise to be good, I promise." His body wracked in pain, but not from his shoulder, from his heart, oh how it ached, it screamed in pain as he sobbed.

  Steven remembered her, he remembered his fiancée, he remembered her greyish green eyes, her beautiful red lips, he remembered everything. Her full breasts, her flat stomach, her shapely legs, it all rushed back to him. He remembered her touch, her laugh, the way she would run her hands through her hair when she was nervous. He couldn't forget it now even if he wanted to, though now that he had it back, he would never relinquish it! Her smile and the way her eyes danced when she looked at him, that smile was only for him, he had never seen her give it to anyone else, it was his and he remembered!

  Steven remembered the day in the rain! He remembered how they had gone walking, out around the point, the late day sun was sinking and clouds slowly rolled in. They didn't care though, they were hand in hand, laughing, cuddling as they walked. He couldn't remember how long they had sat on the bench they found. It was in a clearing overlooking the lake and they had watched the rain roll in across the lake. He remembered trying to pull her up from the bench as the rain fell around them, soaking them, but she wouldn't let him, and pulled him
back to the bench.

  "No Steven, lets stay," and her lips had brushed his, her tongue darting in after and licking the rain that had collected on his lips. He had sat back down and she pulled herself close, her arms tightly wrapped around his forearm. He remembered they sat there for what seemed like an eternity, but an eternity of bliss. She got up and pulled him to his feet. "Dance with me Steven, dance with me in the rain."

  He had shook his head no, "I can't dance, I don't know how!"

  "Oh, come on, no one will see, its only you and I here." She pulled him to his feet and then wrapped her arms around his neck, "Dance with me," she said as she kissed him. They had danced, he didn't know where the music came from, if it was just in his head, or they collectively created it, but he heard, and he knew she had as well. They danced and danced, their bodies close together, warming each other in the cool late day rain. He held tight to her, her head lay on his shoulder and they moved with a grace he never expected from himself.

  He remembered! He also remembered that that was the day he fell in love. "Miranda," he whispered, "Please come back.”

  Colour

  "Miranda," he whispered as he woke. He knew she wasn't there, questioned if even had heard her voice the day before. He didn't know. He hated this place, hated even more this morning than any other time before, hated that he was trapped here made to endure the whiteness, the silence except for those time his mind played with him. For that’s what it had to be, his mind playing, because Miranda would not do such a cruel trick to him.

  Light spilled into the room! Light from the window, causing shadows to fall across the walls. His mouth agape, Steven climbed from the couch and crossed to the window, and sure enough saw the sun in the sky. And there were trees! Beautiful green trees, and grass! He could see the blackness amongst the trees where the shadows fell, where the sun failed to reach, he saw it and he felt alive!

  "It looks real!" he said almost surprised, as he traced his finger across the glass hoping to feel the trees themselves. "Look at the colour! Look at the blue sky, the green trees, the green grass, look, look!" He could feel the heat from the sun through the window as it beat down beautifully from above. He saw it and relished it. The room around him, the rooms below and behind him, forgotten as he leaned against the window and looked at the outside world.

  He took it all in, let it soak through his eyes his body, feeling the colours with every sense he could. He stayed at the window afraid to move, afraid that if he did, like the man in the other room it would once more become a grey fog. He didn't want that to happen so he never left the window, never let his eyes leave the scenery beyond. He would not have it slip away from him, he would hold on, would not let go. His legs ached and his muscles stiffened in his back, but still he did not leave his post, he was glad to have it no matter what the discomfort it cost him.

  Hours passed, he could tell by the suns path across the sky, he saw it, he saw the slow pacing of the sun and he grinned. He had never felt such elation with a day as he felt right now. He enjoyed every moment he spent at the window. The sun slowly disappeared and he watched the pinks and purples fill the sky as the sun slowly passed behind the trees before darkness fell. Still he did not move, and he watched the moon creep into the sky. His body was tired now and his eyes felt heavy, and with great pain he pulled himself from the window and back to the couch. He was asleep in moments but his heart felt lighter.

  People

  Miranda filled his dreams, as the sun and trees filled his day. In his dream, Miranda and him walked beneath the trees, danced beneath the trees. He felt disappointed when he finally woke, and she was left behind.

  The window was still there, and he could still see the sunlight streaming in. With a smile he went to the window and looked out again. The trees were the same, the grass was the same, the only difference was where the day before it was sunny with blue skies, clouds partially covered the blue today. He didn't care; he enjoyed the view nonetheless, actually excited by the clouds themselves, puffy and ominous as they slowly moved in the sky above.

  Movement took his eyes from the sky and back to the trees! He was sure he had saw movement! There it was again, a blur almost among the trees, a blur of yellow, he was sure of it. He watched looking for it again, when a ball bounced from the trees. It was yellow in colour and he watched as it rolled to a stop. A child of about seven ran out from the trees and picked it up. He looked up, and as if he saw Steven watching, waved and then ran back into the trees.

  Steven was shocked, he couldn't move, the little boy had seen him and had waved! "Come back!" he yelled at the window hoping the boy would hear. "Come back!" He saw more people now, just within the trees walking as if on a pathway. They crossed under the canopy within the shadows and the ones that looked up, waved at him, smiling but none stopped.

  Steven banged on the window with his fists, "Come here!" he yelled, "Let me out!" But no one came, they seemed oblivious to his confinement, they just smiled and waved. The day continued and people came and went, as the sun crossed the sky and all Steven could do was watch. Watch the people, he could almost hear their laughter, their joy as they walked, oh how he yearned to share it with them. Darkness came, and he no longer saw anybody and he was left to the darkness of the night, and the light of the room. He went to the couch and closed his eyes and slept.

  Red Door

  Steven woke, and right away walked to the window intent on getting someone’s attention today. The sun was bright and no clouds filled the sky today as he looked out. Already he could see people walking along the path, though none looked his way. He didn't bang on the window unsure on what he should do. A woman walked out of the trees, she looked familiar to him and she waved. She smiled and waved as he waved back. She stood there peacefully, beautifully, and stared, she didn't go back into the trees like the people yesterday had.

  "Come here," he saw her mouth, though he could not hear her. "Come here," he read again and she waved him over.

  Steven shook his head and banged on the window as if to show the woman he couldn't. She laughed and shook her head.

  "Come here," he could almost hear her say, as she waved him to her again. Steven felt trapped; pained that she could not see he was trapped in here. He shrugged and banged on the window towards the woman, "I can't!" he yelled at the window, "I can't!"

  The woman smiled and her hands went to the front of her blouse. Steven watched as she slowly unbuttoned her shirt. When it was completely undone she pulled it off and dropped it to the grass before her. She stood in just her bra and pants and again, she waved him over. Steven was going nuts to see this familiar woman half undressed before him, and not being able to get to her.

  Again the woman smiled and she bent over and pulled her pants down, when she stood back up she was only in her panties and bra, and she laughed. She waved to him again, "Come to me Steven," he heard Miranda's whisper, "Come to me."

  "Please Miranda, show me how," he whispered at the glass as he looked at Miranda on the grass, so close but yet so far away.

  "I love you Steven," she whispered, "Come back to me now."

  "How Miranda, how?"

  "The door silly, use the door," and she motioned off to her right.

  Steven backed away from the window and looked around the room. To his left was a door. A red door! He did he not see it when he first awoke! He could not answer how it got there, but there it was. He looked back out the window and saw Miranda smiling. "Come to me Steven," she spoke and then waved, "Come to me."

  Steven slowly walked to the red door, his hand reached out and he gently grasped the knob. With one last look at the white room around him, he smiled and turned the knob, pushing the red door open, and walked into the blinding light beyond.

  He could hear a woman sobbing, and he felt tired, drained. He lay on a bed and he could tell it was a hospital room he lay in. Slowly, with great effort he turned towards the woman w
ho was holding his hand crying softly, and with her eyes closed.

  "I heard you Miranda," he whispered hoarsely, "And I came."

  Miranda opened her eyes and looked down at Steven and saw his weary smile, "you came back to me," she whispered before brushing his lips with hers.

  The End

  Chapter 2: I Had a Dream

  I had a dream...

  I dreamt that I walked into your bedroom. I felt like an intruder as I looked upon your calm sleeping form. How I yearned to touch you but feared having you wake. Instead, I sat down at the foot of your bed and quietly watched you. I watched as your chest gently rose and fell with every breath, and your lips slightly opened on exhale looking delicate, pretty. One strand of hair crept across your forehead and lay on your cheek and I was enthralled! I couldn't take my eyes off you, for fear that in the instant I turned away, you would move and I would miss it! How I wanted to crawl up onto your bed, envelope you in my arms, and feel you snuggle into my chest. But I couldn't for I was an intruder!

  You moaned softly, and your feet kicked at your bedding as you shifted positions. I saw, and I wondered, were you thinking of me? Were you running from me, or maybe to me? Was that why you kicked at your blanket, or was I not in your dream at all? Your scent filled the room and my senses, as much as the vision of you, and I felt lost. Lost in your world, not sure why I should be privileged enough to see you this way, so fragile, so peaceful, so beautiful. Oh how I wanted to brush the strand of hair from your face, touch your cheek, your lips. But I didn't because I was an intruder!

  I don't know when I left the dream, your room, but when I woke, I felt empty, alone. I felt that I was so close to realizing my dreams, only to have them snatched away again. I found myself weeping! In joy for what I had seen, or in pain for what I left behind? I didn't know, and wept anyway.