“…if only I had learnt to swim.”
Crystal droplets rained down on the window pane, on the second floor of the Victorian mansion, out in the suburbs. The subtle ray shined down through the transparent glass window. The warmth from the heater declared war with the shivering cold weather. The elegant melody eased my silent mind. The soft, king-sized bed comforted my body and the handmade cotton quilt cloaked over my soul with love and care. So comfortable. So relaxing. Deep in my mind, I was still picturing her elegant face. The soft, brunette hair swayed as the wind, blowing through her locks. The light blue eyes outshined the moonlight. The scenery morphed from time to time – from misty forest to cloud-covered city to the arctic night – as it tried to hide her whereabouts. I could still feel her breath through my neck, her warm hands clinging to my icy cold hands, her fingers intertwined with mine, but suddenly, she was out of sight. The scenery turned jet black and light was coming to exist. I opened my eyes and the ceiling of my bedroom was in sight. My left hand searched for a figure next to me, but unfortunately, there was none. I sighed heavily.
The loud knock on the door had awaken me from my dream life. Rushing into my bedroom was a twelve-year-old girl. She told me to wake up as my parents were ready to go to her funeral; my sweet, little Charlotte’s funeral. I pushed my lazy body with the might of my right arm and be in a sitting posture. I signaled my sister to tell my parents to go first as I would follow suit later on. I grounded myself and be on my way to the washroom, out in the hallway. I paced slowly and stepped into the room. A few steps away and I fronted the mirror on the wall. I washed my face and the water flowing down on the mirror – exactly from the image of my eyes – was mimicking my sadness. Despise and hatred. I ignored the mimicry and headed to my closet to find a suitable clothes to wear. I quickly changed into my clothes but the posture taking my shirt off reminded me of that horrible experience…
This was what had happened –
It was the end of Fall and Charlotte and me went for our first honeymoon, out in the wilderness. The forest was miles away from home and the trees were almost out of leaves. There, a huge winter palace, fit for a newly-wed couple was waiting for us to stay in to. When we arrived, the sun was at the horizon. I whispered coyly to her to tell her to hit the hay early for tomorrow. She agreed without a doubt.
At the break of dawn, the weather was a cup of tea for us to go for a picnic near the northern lake. Birds chirping here and there. The sound of water hitting the banks. The wind caressing my skin and blowing through her hair. We spread out the soft blanket for us to rest on and arranged the food in a heart shape order. We rested our body and her head was on my abs. I combed through her brunette hair and my heart skipped a beat.
After awhile, she lifted her head up and asked me to go for a swim in the lake in front of us. I stopped my actions and tried to change the subject as I wanted the both of us to sleep under the sun and feed ourselves with our favourite dish; chocolate-covered strawberries. She denied my invitations and asked again. I was afraid of water and could not swim – the only thing I forgot to tell her. Before I could tell her, she had stripped down to her underwear and walked towards the water. At the centre of the lake, she suddenly slipped and fell. She almost drowned and shouted for help. I witnessed the scene and tried to help her. That particular moment I forgot that I could not swim and stopped on the spot. I rushed back to the house to grab for a phone but it was too late. I cried, shouting her name but I know that it won’t bring her back to life. I called for 911 and the police came, the ambulance followed suit. They brought her back to the city for an autopsy. The police confirmed her death was by accident and prepared her for the funeral.
I tidied up my tie and slipped into my black, Emilio Valentino tuxedo and stared at the mirror. I could still feel her presence around me; while I was sleeping, reading books or even having dinner, her presence kept me calm. I could still picture her hands caressing my face and combing through my dark brown hair. Minutes later, after I finished tidying myself up, I walked slowly down the stair case and it felt like it was thousands of them in front of me. My head was only thinking one thing. It kept repeating, blaming myself for her death. I spoke it out loud, only me could hear the stinging phrase, “…if only I had learnt to swim.”