Goodnight sweetheart.... by Ziye, Year 9

The sounds of laughter drifted through the empty corridors of the house as Malcolm, back from a long day’s work, entered through the front door. Sounds of mirth, of frivolity...something he hadn’t felt for a long time. He stood there for a moment, brow furrowed. Then, steeling himself, he walked into the living room.

Sitting in the corner – innocent and assuming – was their dusty little television set, which was to be the source of all the noise. It was playing none other than his very own wedding tape. But he had known that; he had only seen enough of it over the last couple of days to pay it anything more than a quick glance. What was more important to him was the woman lying asleep on the sofa in front of it. His wife, Anna.

There were a million things he wanted to tell her right then and there. To shake her awake and tell her he was sorry...but his mouth had gone dry and words escaped him completely. Instead, he swallowed and pulled up a chair next to her.

‘Anna,’ he managed to croak out, his voice shaking. ‘I – I – I –‘ but before he could finish his sentence (whatever that sentence may have ended up being), she spoke. Softly and delicately, but each word pierced through him like ice cold daggers. There was no mistaking the sorrow in her voice.

‘I miss you.’ Her eyes were still shut, but Malcolm was certain she knew he was there. He closed his own, forcing back tears.

‘I miss you too...Anna. I – I’m so sorr-‘

‘Why, Malcolm?’ she cut him off again, then  turned over in her sleep. ‘Why did you leave me?’ Malcolm opened and closed his mouth, trying to form a sentence, but just then, something fell out of her hand. He only caught a glimpse of it before it hit the floor, clattering towards him. It was a ring...but it wasn’t just any ring; it was his. Lifting his hand, he saw his finger was bare and suddenly, with the force of a train, realisation hit him. He staggered backwards into the wall.

Dead? Am I...how? He shut his eyes, urging himself to remember. Suddenly, memories were flashing before his eyes...conversations. What had Cole said? ‘I see dead people,’ came the haunting voice in his head. ‘They don’t know they’re dead.’ A great shuddering breath escaped him. He backed out into hall, eyes darting around. His work space under the stairs...locked, blocked off. She couldn’t stand the memory of him in there. A dinner set out for one in the dining room, unfinished...but when - ?

And then he remembered, as clear as if it was happening now. The night when he had been shot replayed itself in his mind as he slumped down on the stairs. He was lying on his bed, pain searing through him, and there was Anna. She was crying, looking for the wound. The sickly smell of blood stood out vividly in his mind...metallic, salty... Then the pain had suddenly gone.

‘I think I’m OK,’ he had said.

Slowly walking back into the living room, he gingerly lowered himself into his chair.

Anna shuddered suddenly, as though a cold draught of wind had blown in through a window. A cloud of icy breath escaped her mouth as she shivered. Malcolm gazed fixatedly at her, his eyes welling up with tears.

‘I think I can go now,’ he whispered. ‘I just needed to help someone...I think I did.’ Then, without hesitation, he told her it; told her what had been bothering him for the longest time. ‘Anna, you were never last...ever. I love you.’

And although he knew she couldn’t hear him – that she probably had no idea he was there – he felt better. It was bittersweet for him, but he knew everything would be better for her in the morning. As his body began to fade and his vision began to blur, however, he could have sworn that out of the corner of his eye, he saw the words ‘Goodnight, Malcolm’ leave her mouth.

‘Goodnight sweetheart.’