Without a backward glance at the empty street behind her, she unlocked the door in one practiced motion and let it swing shut behind her. Yet here she stopped, motionless in the dark and musty threshold. There was a pair of beaten, forgotten chucks tucked neatly under the table by the door - just where she had left them the last time she put them away. Her eyes shut for a moment as a time forgotten rose unbidden to the front of her memory, plaguing her as it was wont to do occasionally. The force of it made her reel, spurring a surge of emotion that felt like a drain on the reserves of her energy. A younger girl chimed, ‘don’t forget to take your shoes off again’ like a fussy ghost, and an irritated, but playful groan answered.
When she remembered to open her eyes again, she dropped the key to the front door in a dish on the tabletop, watching as it landed with a ‘clink’ among loose change, a set of larger keys, and a balled up gum wrapper. With a feeling something like nostalgia settling over her skin, she turned and made her way carefully toward the living room, letting her eyes settle slowly at a sight she had avoided for some time. All of her laughter, tears, love and heartache had been absorbed by the very walls until the air was so thick with memory that for just a moment, she felt human even beneath the facade.
She approached a lamp set on an end table, brushing her fingers over the slick, ceramic surface, but even as she traced the imprinted pattern, her eyes grew distant. A man’s voice, thick with a slur, was ranting frantically from somewhere far away.
“You saved my life and you helped me out and you've never wanted anything in return. And I've been terrified all that time that you wanted nothing because there was nothing I could do for someone like you and one day you were going to get tired of me and move on. The last thing I want to do is hurt you.”
The conjured scene was so sharp in her mind that she felt a heart she no longer had constrict with the ache, she knew the words that came next as well as she knew the cracks on the back of her hand. Her voice had been soft and almost broken with its reply.
“I forgive you. Quit saying those things. I'm not going to leave, I promise.”
She felt the phantom arms as they closed around her, she felt the strength of him pressed into her wrists as she held on for dear life, trying desperately to close the rift between their aching hearts. The memory faded as gently as the words he whispered into her hair and as her awareness came back to the dim room, her eyes squinted against tears that wouldn’t even flow. Ashamed of her lack of resolve, she straightened and took the time to adjust a bracelet until she had schooled herself back to a calm apathy.
As she crossed the room little by little, she ran her fingers over the back of the couch, along the edge of the kitchen door frame, over the blanket draped on the armchair. Little bits of memory flashed here and there - a bloody nose, the sound of his laughter, the whir of a blender. She saw the rusty stains in the carpet from one of many bloody patrols, the crack in the wall he’d caused while practicing with his weapon, the faint smell of pepperoni pizza that never really went away. This had been a home lived in and loved.
Finally, she reached the door on the far side, slightly ajar even before she approached. One pale hand reached out and pushed gently, letting it swing open slowly onto a well lit, if dusty, bedroom. She still knew what it felt like to be disappointed and though she had never really expected to see him sitting there, not now, not ever again, she still felt that pang deep in her chest. She had felt it many, many times before. He wasn’t coming home.
With a steeled look on her face, she passed the threshold and settled delicately on the edge of the bed, ignoring the sound of his voice as he begged her to stay. She didn’t want to remember the way he looked when he felt betrayed, she didn’t want to feel sorry for this. Mostly, she just didn’t want to feel, not anymore. Instead, she banished all the memories but one, and spread her fingers out delicately across the plush comforter that had been stretched and forgotten on their bed. She traced the shape of his form as she remembered him there, curled on his side and staring up into her eyes, woken fresh from a nap. The only time he ever looked gentle was when he was caught off guard.
“I’m sorry.”
The words startled her at first, loud and stark in comparison to the dream voices that haunted her, spoken as they were to a silent room. She paused and considered him there, the ghost man who wouldn’t respond, who could only stare back at her silently with haunting, brown eyes.
“I have to break a promise I made to you, because you aren’t here anymore.” Her fingers flexed on the bed next to the phantom, but her face was controlled, if weary. When she spoke again, it started as a hoarse whisper, then gained momentum slowly as the words tumbled over each other.
“I’m so tired, Khaldun. I have to fight so hard to exist, to hold on to hope that you’ll come back and help me hold some of me together again. What I’ve become,” she stopped and let her eyes drift down from him as her voice broke, to the back of her hand, settling on the smooth skin that wasn’t really her own, “it is meant to consume me. It is easier not to be me at all anymore.”
She looked back up into the eyes of her memory, at eyes that still hadn’t changed, and steeled herself to what she had really come here to do. She leaned back onto the bed and dug into one of her pockets, closing her eyes as her fingers brushed the hard plastic. She pulled it out without ever opening her eyes to look at it, though her thumb brushed the metallic top in slow circles.
“Maybe you were right..”
Her eyes opened and stared back down at the bed, empty, as it had been. Even her phantom had abandoned her in this moment, leaving her alone with her thoughts in the final act. She looked down at the lighter, striking the wheel until the small flame burst to life above her hand. As she stared down into the tiny, wavering light, she felt her hope burn out in its wake. This was letting go.
“Maybe, one day, what’s left of me will find peace with what’s left of you.”
She had tipped her wrist down to the tufted edge of the comforter before the last words passed her lips, lighting the thin fabric with a lazy flame. As the blaze gained momentum, Kaia stepped back from the bed, solemn as the beginning of destruction wiped away at the hardest of her memories. The feel of his breath on her lips faltered, the roughness in his kiss belonged to some other heart, some other woman she was burning alive. The smoke began to rise, thick and dark, and the air was warm with the heat of popping flames. She let go then, banishing the image of Kaia, until it was Alkaid that stood there. Alkaid, surrounded by flame and destruction, condemning her humanity to ash and dust.
Just as the flame began to spread, she turned and passed back through the bedroom door, staring one last time into the empty house. Tomorrow there would be nothing to return to, nothing to remember. She tried one last time to picture him bursting through the door with that lazy smile, laughing as they ate pizza on the couch, snoring where he passed out on the floor - but the thick scent of smoke had already tainted the power this place held over her. She could conjure nothing but a deep, empty sadness and that brought a small, bittersweet smile to her lips.
“Goodbye.”
The words hung heavy in the air as she disappeared, one last memory for the flames.
((1600 Words))
