The rain slashed against the windows of the top floor double decker bus, trickling down and distorting Amelia’s view of the passing bare trees and unadorned countryside. How appropriate, she thought, it was raining when we buried you. Amelia’s face betrayed nothing, her chocolate eyes simply watched, her breathing slow and methodical. Even as the late afternoon sun came out from behind the moving clouds, Amelia did not even raise a hand to shield her eyes from the glare, she merely squinted and continued to watch.
To others, Amelia may have appeared as a normal young woman on her way to do the weekly food shopping, with her oversized jumper and ripped jeans, she blended into everyday life. Her normally coiffed, dark hair, now a messy bun pinned to the top of her head and her face bare except for the dark shadings sketched underneath her eyes. If her friends were to see her now, they would not have been able to recognise her although they would have expected it, but never would they have imagined Amelia to seem so uninterested in her own appearance.
A lock of hair had somehow managed to escape from the unbridled muddle on her head and Amelia spent the next few minutes pulling at the split ends, observing how long it took before the weakest strand finally broke away, and then moved onto the next piece. She knew it was something Matthew hated, stop pulling at your hair, he would admonish, it’ll stop growing one day and all you’ll have left is wisps of candy floss. A smile tugged at the corner of her straight set lips as she thought of Matthew’s own nest of soft, coffee coloured feathers and the way it felt when she ran her fingers through them, like rustling a silk fringe. Amelia thought of the sharp contours of his face and how his pointed nose and slightly beady eyes reminded her of a bird. His stance, always coiled and his shoulders crouched as he leaned on his elongated stalks with hands at the end. My bright eyed bird, she would often call him.
The crooked smile slowly disappeared when the present struck her fully in the face. She remembered where she was going and began to tug at the strands of split hair, twisting it firmly around her index finger, releasing it, then twisting again. Tug, twist, release; tug, twist, release. Stop! Just stop it, she instructed herself. She forced her hastened breathes to a slow, more natural rhythm as her shoulders slumped into a somewhat relaxed demeanour. Amelia tried to distract herself as she craned her neck to inspect the inhabitants of the half full bus, the differences in age and with their bulky headphones and even louder shoes. The young and the old, generation screamed volumes to her. The elderly at the front, with their bunnets, bootees and walking aids, and the loud youngsters at the back, the colour and the bland. Although seated firmly in the middle, Amelia began to lean more and more towards the bland end.
Her eyes flitted amongst their belongings of handbags and carrier bags, wondering if any of them were headed her way. I don’t see anyone with flowers, she mused; then again, neither have I. Amelia’s gaze started to flicker as her interest began to wane, no, none of them could be visiting, she decided, they look too vibrant, too…normal. She returned her eyes towards the window where it would remain for four more stops, rarely blinking and breathing steadily.
The cemetery gates loomed above Amelia, the intricate design of the bars and stone sculptures that decorated the archway leading into the grounds, could’ve been lifted straight from a fairy tale. The swirling iron loop designs of the bars made it both a barrier and a warm welcome to those visiting the departed loved ones. Amelia had all but forgotten such delicate details the last time she were here. I was somewhat distracted by the large coffin, she thought bitterly to herself. The grounds lay itself open to Amelia, offering her its picturesque views of the wandering hills and a never ending sky that stretched far beyond. The grass, moist from the rain, seemed to wink when the sun’s light caught it, creating tiny diamonds and an enchanting blanket for the dead. It squelched underneath Amelia’s shoes as she was careful not to step on anyone’s grave, literally giving her the feeling of what it would be like to walk on egg shells.
Matthew was laid near the overhanging blossom tree, she remembered, to give him shade in the summer and shelter in the winter. Tears pricked at her eyes and threatened to fall as she began to approach the path towards the discernible tree, though the summer was a long way off and most of the blossoms had fallen, it was still a sight Amelia would remember to her dying day, Matthew’s monographed headstone underneath the pink marshmallow tree. It was a moment she knew had come too quickly, just like Matthew’s passing, and now she was approaching his final place, she found it more and more difficult to carry the dead weight of her feet to go and talk to Matthew in her own way.
Well you always did say you’d get me to the countryside one day, never thought in a million years it’d be this way. Amelia was suddenly struck by the silence which surrounded her, it seemed to suit her and she began to relax that little more, feeling less self-conscious. I can see why you chose this place, it really is you. Then again you were always the decisive one. You even decided when you were going to die. She struggled with the bitter lump trapped in her throat and had to swallow a few times before it would go down.
''I knew you were ready, I knew the pain you were in. I saw it every day. I still see it even though I try not to. I remember how your eyes would fill up whenever we tried to help you up or get dressed. And I remember how you tried to cover it up for me, how brave you were even at the end.''
The wind picked up, blowing its chilly breath on the back of Amelia’s neck and she wrapped her arms around herself, wishing she’d brought a scarf.
''Yes, there’s a lot of horrible things that’ll stay in my mind, probably forever, but one thing I’ll never forget was how…un-afraid you were, never once did you ever tell me how scared you were of dying, although I’m sure you must’ve been. Or perhaps you just didn’t think about it that much, only you’ll know. Only you’ll ever know. And it may sound selfish but I’m glad. I’m glad you never told me because now, to me, you’ll always be the Matthew who was never afraid of anything…not even of dying. My brave bright eyed bird.''
Amelia could feel the salty drips bleaching her face as the slid from her eyes onto her dry cheek. She didn’t dab at them, but instead allowed them to finally come freely as she drew herself in closer to her body, feeling the first light drizzles of rain.
''I’m going to go now, sorry I can’t stay but if I’m here for much longer I think I’ll break. But I don’t want you to worry about me, if I keep saying I’m fine to everyone eventually it’ll be true. I will be fine, one day. Amelia slowly started to detach her feet from her rooted spot in front of Matthew, still holding herself. But she wasn’t finished just yet. I won’t come here again. And not just because I hate the countryside, I do but that’s not the only reason. It’s because you and I both know how much we loved each other, and we don’t need fresh flowers or tears by a grave to tell us or others that. I don’t care about the others. But I do care about you. And I love you…so thank you for being in my life and I’m so glad to have known you.''
A young woman stands waiting for the next bus, cold and drenched. Alone, she seems to be gazing around at the empty, wet country road and the land surrounding it, like a green desert. It almost appears as though this was the first time she had been there as she seemed to appreciate what she was seeing and that the sight alone was something of a comfort. Her bus approaches unhurriedly and she takes one long look, her eye catching something on top of the bus sign, a slight smile appearing at the corner of her mouth, before stepping on.
A young Dunnock-like bird, no bigger than a chick, watches Amelia from the top of the sign as she enters the bus and slowly pulls away. Its tiny head twitches from side to side as it watches her leave before flying off forever.
You have managed to do exactly what you need to do as a writer and that is to draw the reader into a world that is not theirs. Well done. I wanted to know more about this young couple's story and I was sad that he'd died.