When Heather laughed, my world stood still and nothing else mattered. The dulcet tone of her rich, uncontrollable giggling at my expense only caused me to want to be the only one who pulled those sounds from her throat.
I barely noticed when all the tension left her body—I was too far gone at that point, daydreaming about how it would feel to make her this happy for the rest of her life.
Tonight, I’m going to take every opportunity to bring that sweet noise out of her as much as I possibly can. I want to hear it so much, the melody it engrains itself into the very depth my skin and becomes a part of me. Within my ears, and mind, so there’s never a time when I’m without it.
Her laugh belongs to me tonight. In fact… all of her does.
“What?” I ask as my fit of giggles slowly begins to die down.
“Hmm?” He frowns slightly, coming out of what looks like a comatose daydream.
“You’re staring at me.”
“Oh.” He brings his fist to his mouth, and clears his throat. “Sorry, you… just have a beautiful laugh. I’ve missed it.” He says it so matter-of-factly—like he’s heard it many times before. Without saying another word, he turns away from me with amusement written all over his face and begins striding away from me. So, I hustle forward as best as I can to try and match his speed—which is hard because, well, I have little legs.
“How long have you been watching me exactly?”
“Long enough,” he states, shrugging like it means nothing to him. “Does that bother you.” He briefly glances over his shoulder, the corner of his mouth curling up before saying, “Heather?”
“Well.” I pause, thinking about it for a few seconds before I eventually answer. “Not as much as it should.” He gives me acurt nod then turns his attention forward once more. “What does bother me though, is how much walking I’m doing,” I mutter under my breath.
Crisp autumn leaves crunch beneath my sneakers as I finally catch up to him and we walk side by side. The gentle evening breeze swirls through the few strands of hair that have fallen around my face, and suddenly it hits me that I’m following Ricky blindly, almost as though I’ve known him for years, trusting that I’m not in any danger.
I’d slit his throat before he had a chance to act.
It’s an odd feeling—being with him—because I’ve never seen this man in my life, yet for some strange reason I feel… safe in his presence, and logic eludes me as to why I’m moving further into the darkness of the cemetery, and away from the safety of my car, and… people. Who am I kidding, there’s nobody around for miles. It’s precisely why I chose this specific area of town. Nobody to ask questions, and not a single soul to catch you in the act of murder.
Ricky and I have fallen into a comfortable silence as we walk next to each other, and I survey the surrounding area as we go, wondering how I haven’t seen—or even been to—this part of the church yard before. The further we move into the gloomier part of the graveyard, the more apparent it becomes that the gravestones in this area are hardly taken care of in contrast to the prettier ones by the entrance.
The ones decorated with family photos, toys, letters of love, as well as an array of brightly-coloured flowers from friends and family members who miss their dearly departed. A region where the sun and moonlight grace the cenotaphs in memorial of those treasured by the living, but it’s extremely clear to any onlooker the headstones within the back have all been overlooked and neglected.
Green and yellowish-toned moss clings tightly to the granite tombstones. A mixture of vines and weeds creep over the grey stone, forcing their way through the cracks at the base and climbing their way up and around the now grimy headstones of people long forgotten, and only remembered by Death himself. Evoking a dark, and unpleasant feeling as we pass through them. Both of us treading carefully as we move, placing our steps as respectfully as possible, so as not to walk on the graves of the dead and disturb their eternal slumber.
“God,” I groan petulantly like an irritated child. “How much longer are you going to make me walk for?”
Ricky chuckles and I watch him point directly in front of him. “It’s just over that hill. We’re nearly there, I promise, so stop acting like a child and keep up.”
“I’m not acting like a child,” I grumble under my breath, crossing my arms over my chest and frowning.
I’m aware of the irony of my actions, just so you know.
Walking is one of the things I hate with the passion of a thousand suns. It’s pointless when you can, like… drive everywhere. Or cycle, or… I don’t know… be carried, or some shit.
“Do you want me to carry you?” he asks as if reading my mind. “Like a little puppy.” He looks down at me and winks.
My god, that wink.
The action alone gives me fanny flutters where the flutters should be flutter… less? If that’s even a fucking word. He knows exactly what he’s doing, too. I can see it in his eyes when he looks at me, and if that wasn’t enough, he reaches out to boop me on the nose for added measure.
I slap his hand away and screw my face up. “You’re highly annoying, has anyone ever told you that?”
“One person.” He snorts. “But they’re not here anymore, so...”
“Why? Did you kill them?” I quip as we both slowly begin to climb the steep, but small hill.
“Nope. But somebody else did.”
Ricky’s statement gives my gentle laughter pause, and I’m unsure of what to say other than, “Oh.”
