Falling

I'm joining the folks at scriptic.org again this week for a bit of fiction. I'll post my prompt at the end of this little story. When I began formulating the story in my mind, almost immediately after I'd read the prompt, I kept seeing a woman clinging to a rocky cliff face as the love of her life fell to his death.

Sure, it was a completely morbid thought. Not that I'm ever above having a morbid thought. But, my great joy in being an artistic writer type is that I get to have all kinds of thoughts that I can weave into my work. All the insanity, none of the guilt.

Anyway... without further ado...

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Tuesday, October 30

"You rat bastard!" Sonja shouted. "You know I hate heights!"

"That's just your fear talking. You know what fear is, right? False. Evidence. Appearing. Real."

"I'm going to divorce you for this."

Fifteen feet above her, Trent clipped another carabiner on his line. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. You have to get to the top first. C'mon. It's only another 200 feet."

Sonja looked up the sheer rock cliff. "Fuck y..." The words lodged in her throat as Trent's body flew past her toward the ground.

Moments later Sonja stumbled into the kitchen wiping tears and sleep from her eyes. Trent looked up from the magazine he was reading as he sipped his coffee. He saw the look on her face. "Oh, baby. Again?"

"Again," she said. "This time we were climbing a cliff. You were above me and then you fell. I don't know why I keep dreaming shit like that. Where's the anxiety coming from?"

"I don't know. You know I love you. I'm here for you. I'll always be here for you."

"I just don't get it."

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Wednesday, October 31

Sonja squeezed her eyes shut and gripped the railing as tightly as she could. She said, "You're evil, you know. How did I let you talk me into this? I'm totally freaked out right now."

"What's there to fear?" Trent asked. "This is perfectly safe."

The ferris wheel jolted to a stop and their gondola swayed slightly at the top. "Oh, my god. That's it. I'm leaving you for a man who likes to stay at ground level."

"Oh, c'mon, baby. Look." Trent stood up and started doing the chicken dance on his side of the gondola. "See? Harmless." He flapped his arms.

"Stop th..." Sonja watch in horror as Trent toppled from the side of the gondola just as the ferris wheel lurched into motion again.

She woke, sure that her scream of terror had, at least, been real. But she could hear Trent out in the kitchen, pulling mugs from the cupboard as the coffee pot chugged along. She scrubbed at her eyes, then grabbed her bathrobe from the end of the bed and pulled it around her as she stood up.

She stopped in the kitchen door, looking at Trent's back as he stood looking out the window and waiting for the coffee to finish. She thought about not telling him, but he would know she was troubled. He always knew. She started with, "I love you."

Trent turned, a smile on his face, "I love y... baby, baby, baby..." He rushed to take her in his arms. "I'm so sorry you're going through this. What a horrible thing for you to go through."

Sonja didn't respond. She only rested her head against his chest and listened to his heartbeat.

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Thursday, November 1

Sonja stayed in bed. She just didn't have the heart to get up, didn't want him to see it on her face again. She lingered long enough that Trent came into the bedroom, carrying two cups of coffee. He handed her her mug without saying a word. Then he sat down on the edge of the bed next to her. He put his mug down on the end table and reached out to take her free hand.

That sat like that for a few minutes, holding hands, Sonja taking sips of the coffee and trying to dispel the last of the dream she'd just had. It was a dream much like the others. This time they'd been stringing Christmas lights on a high, steep gabled roof. Their banter was all about her fear of heights. Then he was gone.

Sonja shook herself from her reverie as she felt Trent squeeze her hand. She tried to give him a wobbly smile. He said, "Baby, you can't keep going like this. You need to find out what this fear is all about and deal with it. It just isn't rational."

Sonja smirked. She was almost pissed off at him for calling her out on her slice of crazy. She knew she was only pissed because his words were exactly how she felt about it. She let out a heavy sigh. "Well, it's not very fucking kind either."

Trent squeezed her hand again. "You have to let it go, baby. Just let go."

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Thursday, November 1

Trent kept holding Sonja's hand as the doctor checked her chest with his stethoscope  Only when the doctor stood up and cleared his throat did Trent look at him.

"This is it, huh." Trent said it as a statement rather than a question.

"I believe it is," replied the doctor. "You know, she's fought this cancer so hard, but her body just can't do it any more. Her system is failing, she hasn't eaten in a week. She hasn't been lucid since, what... Monday night? She's trying to let go, I think, but she's fighting it too."

"Is there anything else I can do for her?" asked Trent.

"Just keep holding her hand. Keep loving her. Keep talking to her. If you can do it, give her permission to go. I'll leave now, but the nurses know how to get in touch with me and I can be here in 10 minutes."

"Thanks, Doc."

The room was quiet but for the hissing of the oxygen being fed to Sonja and the occasion click as the pain meds were automatically pumped into her veins. Trent continued to hold her hand and brushed his thumb gently across the back of it. He crooned an exit litany to her, softly, almost a whisper, "I love you, baby. I always have, I always will. You will always be here with me. So, it's okay to go. I'll be okay. You can let go. Just let go."

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For the Scriptic prompt exchange this week, Katri gave me this prompt: Fear isn't rational or kind.
I gave Lance this prompt: He opened the door and along with a cold gust of wind, she came in.