Eric Draven (i_bringdeath) wrote in we_coexist, @ 2015-01-24 10:32:00 |
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Entry tags: | eric draven, zz:status complete |
Memories (Narrative)
This place was almost uninhabitable.
The window was in dire need of repair, there were stains on the wood floor, some of the planks were warped from excessive moisture and needed to be replaced. Thick layers of dust coated anything with a surface, and despite then use of the fireplace after a year of being gone (before he had ended up in that broken world), the yawning mouth of the hearth seemed too empty. The pile of ashes were still there from the fire he had started long ago. And that was curious. He had burned all of the photos, the letters, anything that could remind him of her and that night.
But you couldn't wipe a place clean of the memories. You could burn the structure to the ground, which was a thought that kept coming back into his mind again and again, but you could never truly rid yourself of the ghosts.
Some of the floor was covered in shards of glass, bits so minute that even the naked eye couldn't see them. Pages from torn books sat in a heap in the corner. The only room that was truly intact was the kitchen, a room Eric and Shelly rarely used for it's true purpose. Shelly was a terrible cook. Eric loved that about her. The brunette could burn water trying to boil it so it was rare they had a home cooked meal together in their apartment unless Eric was the one making it. He was alright in food preparation, much better in comparison with Shelly, but he was gone so often it was pointless really to try to have a formal dinner. Being on the road got tedious but it also allowed one to get swept into the idea of takeout or fast food.
The kitchen was where Eric sat now. His back was pressed against the closed oven door, the glass fogged from disuse with dust. Everything in the kitchen was just how they had left it. The pots and pans were still in the cabinets around the oven and stove unit, the plates and cups neatly stacked in the cubbards above the sink. The refrigerator had power, oddly, as if the City was expecting someone whom actually consumed food to move in and take up residence. Maybe it knew Leeloo would be there far before Eric did. That was impossible, but not.
Eric had needed a break from trying to tidy the place up. He wanted to make it look nice for Leeloo, his invited guest, and yet...somehow, the process was a lot harder than he had originally thought. It wasn't a physical toll, he couldn't succumb to exhaustion, but an emotional one. Shelly had been gone for years and every where he looked he saw her there. Even here, now. Everything he touched he felt her.
Eric closed his eyes and waited to see if the strong feeling would fade. He hoped it would or he felt he would be unable to go on. He felt unable to move from this spot, too heavy and too weighted down by the dredge of burden to even attempt to rise and continue. He felt defeated and he hadn't yet even made a dent in the things that needed to be done.
He couldn't. Not yet. But he would.
He would for Leeloo. But not yet.