April Submission - So Far Away

I can hear them echo. I hear the last cries of the children in my sleep. I hear the last scream of the gunshot victim in the sunlit park. I hear the last exhale of the elderly that is as brisk as the waterfall that swiftly flows in my backyard.

We all have something in common. Rich or poor, man or woman, black or white, short or tall, gay or straight, smart or stupid, we all share the same thing that lays ahead of us.

People have no idea of my gift, I put on a smile whenever I see a familiar face. It’s not like they’d believe me if I attempted to tell them anyway. Sometimes I don’t even believe what I’m hearing. Sometimes I think I’m insane. Then I remember the papers that printed on those days of the echoes.

Pouting will get me nowhere though, I can’t stay in bed all day. The voices won’t leave me alone even if I try to rest.

I started the day out by making my bed and cooking myself some scrambled eggs. They taste the same as they always do.

I walked over to my CD player. Among the mess of CDs and cases, I found the one I was looking for. The one labeled 1971.

I pressed the “eject” button and the player spat out its slot, coughing dust into the humid air. I put the CD on the tray, pushed the slot back in, and pressed play as I walked back to the table to listen to Carole King.

So far away

Doesn't anybody stay in one place anymore

It would be so fine to see your face at my door

Doesn't help to know you're just time away

Long ago I reached for you and there you stood

Holding you again could only do me good

Oh, how I wish I could

But you're so far away

One more song about moving along the highway

Can't say much of anything that's new

If I could only work this life out my way

I'd rather spend it being close to you

When the song ended, I got up from the table and opened the front door. It was eight in the morning, the paper ought to have come by then. Sure enough, today was no exception. It rested on the stoop, as if calling my name. I read one section of the paper everyday, I may as well get to know the new voices that would torment me.

Today, was the exception. Large bolded headlines. The front page picture was covered with flashing police lights, yellow tape, and confused onlookers. Below the lights sat a picture of a young, beautiful woman in a wedding dress. Anna Harrington. I knew her.

On weekends I would go and get coffee, she’d sit off in the corner, burying her face in the book as the barista informed me that there was no espresso left. Her hair was always brushed to the side, and she always squinted her eyes as she read. This was an annoyance, as her eyes were something of beauty.

I read the caption that was underneath her picture in the paper. It was in past tense. I tore out her wedding picture, and put it in a wooden frame on the wall. She was in a cute pose, smiling at the camera with her big blue eyes of innocence. Now I would know what her voice would sound like; I flipped to a section of the paper and made my new friends.

--

“H-Help,” a voice echoed from outside the well. It was Caleb Gallagher. He was nine when he became my friend and a voice. I heard him everyday when I came here.

“I f-fell in!” Caleb echoed from inside as he struggled. I never gazed inside the chasm, I’ve heard him struggling everyday, there was no need to see him try to save himself.

“I can’t swim!” Caleb gasped as I heard water sloshing onto the brick wall of the well.

For the first time, I walked towards the well. I knew it would pain me, but I had to see him. I knew there was no saving him. But, I had too see what I’ve been hearing all these years. I gazed down the chasm. I saw him. Wet hair, 80’s clothes, freckles. He was a young boy, his eyes widened as he erratically tried to grasp onto the brick wall, but it was as smooth as paper. It was useless. There was nothing he could do, and he knew it.

“M-Mom save me!” Caleb gurgled as he made one last valiant effort to grip the wall. He went under with one final scream, and his cries stopped. I got up and walked away from the well as he began to drown again. I needed to see Anna.

“H-elp,” Caleb proclaimed as he struggled in the distance.

--

The police tape had been cleared, the officers were gone, and a small memorial was set up. A pile of teddy bears, candles, letters, photographs, and gifts all circled the site. No one was there, the world had moved on. It was time for another person to pity.

That’s when I saw her. Anna, her beautiful red hair swept to the side, her squinting eyes, buried in a book at a nearby cafe table. She looked stunning in her sundress that mixed with her blue eyes. She looked so calm, poor girl had no idea what was coming.

I sat down next to Anna. She didn’t look up. She didn’t see me or hear me. But I saw and heard her. Her squinting eyes darted across the book.

I found myself pulled by her rhythm. Her delicate eyes sucking in the words, her soft hands turning the pages every thirty seconds, and her bracelet that jingled as she danced her hands from page-to-page.

Suddenly, her routine abruptly ended as she jolted her head up and made eye contact to the view on her right. An invisible man, a man I’d never see except in the papers. Terror flooded her delicate eyes, her soft hands started shaking. The bracelet jingled.

“I told you to leave me alone!” She whimpered meekly. “Why are you here?”

All I could do was watch.

“We’re over, don’t make me call the police!” Anna shook as she closed her book.

I started sweating. I saw the paper. I read the article, this wouldn’t end well. For her or the invisible man.

“I was about to go home anyway, it’s late,” Anna stood up to leave while clutching her book, but she flew back into the chair as if someone pushed her. “Don’t touch me!” She put her hand in front of her, but I could see the invisible man grab it as she desperately tried to shake it free.

All I could do was watch her struggle against the invisible man. Her braid lifted up, as if someone was tugging on it as she screamed in pain.

“Please stop!” Anna cried as she lost her balance and flew onto the ground.. “Someone help me!”

I would have helped her. I wanted to help her. She did not deserve this, no one did. However, I could not do anything.

Anna looked up from the ground, her nose was bleeding from the impact on the pavement. Her blue eyes turned from an ocean to a hurricane. “No..you wouldn’t dare-”

All I could do was watch her scream. Her book stayed rested on the table, untouched.

--

She lay on her back on the cobblestone. She shook and whined as tears flew down her face. Her blue eyes were now faded, her braid was a mess. Her dress was badly wrinkled, especially the skirt.

“Y-You did this to me, now you’re gonna shoot..” she said quietly as she stared up at the sky. The invisible man must be hovering over her. “I can’t believe..I once loved you.”

Then she did something I never would have expected to happen in a million years. She rested her head in my direction and her eyes lit up. She saw me. She could see me.

The words escaped me before I can comprehend them. “I will never forget you,”

“I’m glad we met,” She smiled as she gazed into my eyes. I was in shock. I had to say something.

“I-I wish I could have helped you,” I said as I felt a tear roll down my face.

She smiled, exposing her white teeth. “You already did, thank-” a gunshot sounded and she vanished.

Her book did not. It still rested on the table, untouched. As if it’s owner was on a simple bathroom break. I picked up the book and examined it. I didn’t recognize the title, it must not be popular. I tucked the book under my arm, and walked away from the table without looking back as the memorial watched me.

"I told you to leave me alone!" Anna whimpered meekly.

I didn't want to see it again.

--

“H-Help,” Caleb struggled in the well again. His end was quick, I heard it often. I sat on the edge of the well, and shifted through the pages of the book as Caleb’s cries echoed behind me.

It wasn’t a novel, it was a sketchbook. Anna was an artist, and a damn good one. She dated each drawing, the first one was from early 2009, and the last one was from two weeks ago. The further I got into the book, the more emotional and dark the drawings became. This must have been her escape.

Then I got to the last page. It was a polaroid picture of her, snuggled in the arms of a man. The same man from the papers. However, there was a big red X over his face.

I closed the book.

“H-Help!” Caleb struggled in the waves.

I turned behind me, Caleb was flailing his arms around as if swatting a fly, desperately trying to cling to the rocks.

“I-I fell in!” He screamed.

I extended my hand.

THE END

WORD COUNT: 1690