Helen

Helen

I thought it would last forever. In the shortness of life I should have known better. My heart burns like the fires of my home. A steady flicker at first, not quite catching light, unable to sustain, then it roars as a torrent of pain. I remember her as if I just saw her. Every detail. Helen was her name. What a beautiful name it was. A name matched by her figure and her mind. When I reflect too long on what once was, I find solitude in the glassy view. Now I look upon a kaleidoscope of color. Each liquid meant to bring a slow and degenerate lapse in my past. That is what I think before I break the seal and begin to unravel; so the night progresses.

Helen gave me the most joy I could ever know. Was it her visage that I was infatuated with? Yes… quite so. Her eyes could melt a man. They had shown bright and brilliant blue, that of the sky in a clear and cold winter day. Such a perfect complexion she had. There was no blemish on her. At least, there was none that my eyes would let me see. I would be mesmerized when she spoke, her lips, soft and thin. Every word she uttered was a song, a clear and steady song that lifted my heart with each beat. How I long to hear that voice again. My ears yearn for her whisper. The liquid burns my throat and the memories continue to flow.

She had long golden hair that fell just past her shoulders. I still remember as it burned. It matched her stunning face. She would tie it back when she worked. Her body was kept well. We would run together in our neighborhood. Our friends and those who lived around us would see us and wave. They would smile and yell a greeting sometimes. Helen would always say hello to them. It could have been on the fifth mile of the run and still, her spirit was never perturbed. So happy was she, full of joy and light. I feel that I lost my joy that day as I watched the fires consume all that I loved. I start to feel light headed. The bottle is half empty.

My love for Helen went beyond the mere physical intoxication she brought upon me. Her temperament was unchangeable. Of course I saw her angry and at times livid against me. However, she would always come back to that peaceful and harmonious view of all things. It was something that drew me, inexorably, to her. I feel, sometimes, that my self-concerned and selfish nature would have buffered me from any and all people who try to come close to me. This was not so for Helen. Nobody could make me feel accepted like she would. Now I feel lost and empty like a man without work, like a man without purpose. The fires consumed my life, no, they consumed what gave me life like the drunkenness burning within me, obliterating my sense,

It was a Sunday night in the middle of fall. Snow had not fallen yet. Sill, the air was cold. I had worked a long day and had come home late. Helen had stayed home that day, went to the church down the road that morning. She was such a person of faith. I had always struggled with it. During days such as that day, she would spend time in quiet solitude. She would pray. When I asked her what she spoke to God about, she would reply, “You,” and would smile. I always took that for granted. I’m sure she prayed that day. I wonder if God told her they’d see each other soon. Bitter one may ask? More than I’ve ever known.

I heard the sound before I felt the heat. It was a roaring noise that overwhelmed the steady patter of the water. My heart leapt as I did. Reflexes take over where the mind begins falter. I took my towel and quickly rapped it around me, the washcloth held against my mouth. The instant the door opened I was blinded by tears as the envelope of smoke smothered and began to suffocate. I was stunned for a moment that felt like a lifetime. Helen… She was the only thought in my mind. I ran down the hallway, skirting the fires spreading from below. The railings on the stairs were ablaze. There was a pain in my hand but it was so far away. Helen.... “Helen!”

My feet hit the scorching tile floor of the foyer. I couldn’t stop. There was light outside the window for some reason. It flashed. However, tonight was all but usual. Helen was in the kitchen baking bread or something. I can’t remember. I rushed past the stairs, my skin burning. As I rounded towards the door of the kitchen my eyes fell upon a sight that shall forever be branded into my memory. She lay there, afire, golden hair gone in blackened smoke. My heart broke. I believe I uttered a scream. I heard it in my soul at least. I fell to my knees. There was a crashing sound. The house was falling in around me. Let it.

Suddenly I felt strong arms wrap around me. I was being pulled away from her. I tried to fight at first but I couldn’t. The doorway to the kitchen began to fall away, a silhouetted figure rushing in. Cold air hit me then. I saw the outside of the house, fires licking the sides. The trees around the house shown bright with yellow, orange, and red. I was hoisted up. A clear mask was placed upon my face and I began to cry. Then my mind went blank

Slowly the fog begins to take me. My eyes become drowsy. The bottle slips from my hands and is muffled on the carpet. Unconsciousness takes me away so that I forget for a moment. I will awake the next day amidst a haze of pain. Then I’ll start my cycle again. I may forget for a while. Then it will come back to me and I’ll find myself standing in front of the clear liquid display, despondently debating on the best form with which to waste away. Would she be proud of me? No… I know that she wouldn’t. I feel ashamed. “Let this be it,” I say to myself. “Let it be done.” May my eyes be lifted and may my mind finally find peace. I fall asleep and dream of something that I will not remember.