Rae Alghren (prettydeadly) wrote in immune_ic, @ 2012-07-23 00:03:00 |
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Entry tags: | # 2012 [07] july, rae |
WHO: Rae
WHAT: Commence mourning.
WHERE: Rae's and Elliot's apartment.
WHEN: July 23rd, 2019, morning
RATING: Low. But sad.
STATUS: Complete, solo
Elliot was dead. No longer would she get notes on the table beside their bed, with silly little games and funny little thoughts that popped into his mind. Because he was gone. Not just... gone. Not gone to somewhere, where maybe she'd see him again someday. But he was dead. Gone forever. Never coming back. Elliot wasn't coming home again. She'd never see his face, see his smile, look into those eyes that made everything okay. Rae wasn't sure what she felt, but it certainly wasn't good. Sadness was one thing, but this felt... stronger. More all-encompassing than just simple sadness. It hurt to breathe. It hurt to think. It hurt to function, with the thought that she'd never see him again. She stood in front of the door to her apartment for a moment, wondering if she should even be here. Should she go through the door? Or should she find another room? Ask someone to come back for her things? No, she thought. No, I can do this. Steeling herself—ha, Steel-ing, she thought, a cruel taunt in the face of threatening depression—she put the key in the lock and opened the door. “Just fifteen minutes,” she turned and told Leah. Then she pulled in a deep breath and stepped inside. Truth be told, she didn't want to be alone. Not really. But she also didn't want anyone—especially not Leah, when the other woman's lack of hatred for her was so new—to see her fall apart when she walked through the door. So much good had happened in that apartment, and she knew that when she walked through the door, all of that, all of those memories, combined with the feeling of agony that she felt right now, would turn her into a complete and utter mess. Blubbering, screaming... whatever else. And she didn't want anyone to see her like that. The feelings, the memories, the loss... were all twice as overwhelming as she expected them to be. Diddy greeted her at the door. She reached down to scratch his ears and her chest constricted, thinking back to the weekend they'd found him. To that trip to the zoo. To making love in her old apartment, that inevitably led to the conception of their baby. David had come back here a couple of times to feed Diddy while they were in quarantine, but the poor little monkey was otherwise clueless to the fact that his owner, his favorite owner, was never coming back. Rae picked him up and kissed him on the fuzzy little head, then followed him with her eyes as he skittered back down, into the corner of the room. When she looked away, she noticed that the new crib they'd picked up in Westport—a dinosaur motif; Elliot's choice—still sat unassembled in the corner of the room. “I'll get to it this weekend,” Elliot had promised her when she'd asked him to put it together. And she'd gone along with it. Said “Okay,” because then she'd been so sure that there would be a this weekend for Elliot. That he'd still be here. But she'd been wrong. His laundry, freshly washed from her weekly trip to the compound's laundry room on Thursday, sat unfolded, in the basket, on the bed. His favorite shirt was on top, “I left it there so you can wear it on our date Sunday night,” she'd naively said. Instead, they'd spent their Sunday night saying goodbyes. Final goodbyes. Forever goodbyes. She took the shirt off of the top of the pile and looked at it, running her fingers over the familiar pirate motif—skull and crossbones... death... more sickening irony—and feeling her eyes well up again. Sitting on the bed, she held the shirt in her hands, red and tired but glassy eyes staring at it, resilient tears that still managed to form, dripping from them and onto the fabric. It hadn't even been an hour, and she already missed him. Already ached like he'd been gone forever. Was she going to be this empty for the rest of her life? Would she ever feel truly whole again? Burying her face in the fabric of his shirt—which, thanks to subpar laundry washing capabilities, still smelled vaguely of his cologne—she screamed and started sobbing. The only person who could take the pain away, the only person who could make her feel less like the world was going to crash down on her... was gone. And he wasn't coming back. Maybe it was meant to be this way. Maybe all the time she'd spent before him, dreaming of someone loving her as much as she loved them; dreaming of the happy ending with a loving family and a happy home, was just foolishness. Maybe... she was meant to be alone. Everyone she loved left her in some way. Her parents, Sarah, Allie, Laney, her cousin... Elliot. Anyone she truly cared about, truly loved... left. How long would it be until David was next on that list? Or Rory? Or... Little One... Her hand found her tummy and she choked a sob. Little One. Andrew David? No, she thought. It had been a nice gesture at the time, but... no. It didn't seem right anymore. Elliot Jr. She swallowed thickly and breathed in deep. And I'm not... I'm not Rae Alghren anymore. I'm... my name is Rae Zimmerman. So people would know. So everyone would know how much she loved him. How she was still his, even though he wasn't with her anymore. Even though he was dead. Even though he was gone. |