Trigger Warnings

Suicide

Drunk Driving (mentioned)

Death

Substance Abuse

Goodbye

“Hello, Michelle? It’s me Cindy. It’s Aurora, she’s in the hospital-”

“Which one?”

“Toronto General- “

I was already out the door, barely even remembering to grab my jacket as I end the call with Aurora’s sister.

Quickly, I switch over to order an Uber as I thunder down the stairs of my apartment building, taking two steps at a time. I paced back and forth in front of the big brick building, ignoring the concerned looks from the people passing me on the snowy streets of Toronto, rubbing my face as I fretted while waiting for this stupid Uber to arrive and cursing myself for not having a car. The thoughts wouldn’t stop and I could feel my stomach somersaulting with anxiety.

‘How long until this Uber gets here?’

‘What even happened? I should’ve let Cindy finish.’

‘How long?’

‘Was it a car accident? Did she slip and hit her head or something?’

‘How long now?’

‘Is she…dead?’

‘Where is this Uber?’

A car with a license plate that seemed to match my Uber finally pulled up and I yanked open the white door, jumping onto the dark leather seat and covering the entire passenger side in fresh snow and slush. The man driving me was cheerful and kept trying to make conversation, but that just made me want to scream. Instead, I bounced my leg and chewed my nails as I stared out the window at nothing, giving short answers in hopes he would get the hint and shut up already.

He didn’t.

It felt like forever before we pulled into the parking lot of the hospital. I was out before he even parked, running as best I could on the salted sidewalk. I rushed to the front desk, trying not to slip on the slush covered tile floor.

“Aurora, Aurora Bennett. Where?” I panted out to the woman behind the desk.

The woman gave me a sympathetic look, “Oh, that poor girl. She’s in the OR right now. Are you family?”

“I’m her girlfriend. Her sister called me.” I answered, voice rushed

She nodded and pointed me down a hall, telling me how to get to the OR which I tried to pay attention to through my panic.

“Thank you.” And then I was off again, running as fast as possible through the maze of corridors, following the arrows and just barely dodging others, my eyes peeled for Aurora’s family.

I finally found them in the OR waiting room, only a few people in there other than the family, but I paid them no mind. Her mother was sobbing into her father’s now drenched shoulder, gripping his wrinkled button up shirt. The man held his wife close with a faraway look in his eyes as he clearly tried to stay strong, even as his eyes watered.

I assumed they hadn’t even noticed I was here given the lack of glaring.

Cindy, Aurora’s younger sister, was the first to see me come in, jumping out of her chair with tears streaming down her face.

“Michelle!” She rushed over to me, “you’re finally here!”

“Sorry, I tried to get here as fast as possible. What happened?” I asked, anxiety in my voice

Cindy’s lip wobbled, hugging herself tightly as fresh tears pricked her brown eyes that looked so much like her sister’s, “She was hit by a drunk driver. They’re not sure if she’s going to make it…”

I felt my knees begin to shake and tears fill my eyes, bile rising in my throat.

Aurora had gone out earlier that afternoon to get groceries and, while I had thought she was taking a longer time than usual, I had figured it was just the snow and ice slowing her down.

I probably should’ve known better when she didn’t answer my text.

Despite her own shaking and tears, Cindy was able to help me over to the chairs where I dropped onto the firm, uncomfortable grey cushion and stared at the white tiles. I don’t know how long we sat there in uncomfortable silence, tears falling from our puffy eyes as we stared at the door awaiting good news, but it felt like eons.

‘Aurora's strong, she'll make it,’ I tried to reassure myself as I bit my thumb until I tasted copper, ‘she'll be fine. She'll be fine and we'll go back home and order Osmows and everything will be fine.’

Time started again when a surgeon opened the door and called out “Bennett?”

We all jumped up, hope radiating from us, until we saw the surgeon’s face.

And we knew…

“I'm sorry, there was nothing we could do.” One of the doctors said.

I faintly heard her family burst into sobs beside me as I collapsed to the cold tile floor, I saw shapes as the different shades of blues and whites of the waiting room swirled together and I went numb.

‘This can't be true,’ I wanted to yell, to run into the room and check for myself, to grab the doctors by the shoulders and demand if they were absolutely sure, but my body wouldn't move, no matter how much I willed it to.

I didn’t even get to say goodbye.

Memories

I stood at the closed casket, gripping the cold brass bars on the side of the big, dark wooden box, cursing the fact that I couldn’t even see her one last time. I could feel the need to cry, but no more tears would come from my puffy eyes. Besides, Aurora wouldn’t have wanted me to cry.

Aurora would’ve hated her coffin.

She would’ve thought that it was so plain and boring with its average stained wood. I had tried to fight her parents to get a custom light purple one, saying that I would help pay for it, as much as I could spare, but they wouldn’t hear it.

Actually, she would’ve hated this whole damn funeral.

It was after her grandmother had passed that she had told me she always wanted a celebration of life, full of pastel decorations, sugar cookies that looked like eyeballs or spider webs, and people talking about how amazing she had been in the latest city play instead of “being gloomy and crying all over the place” as she had said. But, of course, her parents wouldn’t listen to me. They were appalled when I suggested just a few pastel purple streamers or some pink and purple flowers in the spray or the wreath.

I don't know why I was surprised.

They had never really approved of Aurora’s lifestyle, getting her “normal” clothes for Christmas and insisting she grow out of her pastel goth style now that she was out of high school. I mean, at least the clothes were better than that one time her mother had gotten her a book on weight loss. I still remember Aurora bursting into tears as soon as we had gotten home and closed our apartment door.

Hell, they’d never really accepted our relationship either and had almost forbid me from coming to the funeral altogether. It took me and Cindy literally begging for them to reconsider.

I knew they had wished it was me, that I was the one who died instead of their daughter. They didn’t really bother to hide it after all, glaring at me whenever they could and refusing to even look at or talk to me.

Even now, I could feel the burning anger behind the glare her mother cast at my back as I stood before her dead daughter.

I knew they were just looking for anywhere to direct their anger, since the driver who had killed Aurora had died after colliding with a buidling. While I hated the man who took my Princess away with every fibre of my being, I couldn’t help but believe that they were right, that it should’ve been me…

After all, it had been my turn to get the groceries, but I was recovering from a nasty cold and Aurora, poor, sweet Aurora had declared she was getting them herself that day, demanding I rest more, despite my insistence that I was fine. I still remember her walking out the door, bundled in her favorite purple jacket and pulling our floral grocery cart behind her.

I wish I had told her I loved her one last time before she left, that I had hugged her or kissed or at least said goodbye…

“Michelle?” I turned to look at Cindy, her own eyes red from tears that no longer came, “it’s time for the funeral to start.”

I nodded, shuffling and practically collapsing onto one of the pews in the back, as Cindy walked up the rows to the front. This was the only way her parents would let me come. Easier to pretend I didn't exist.

I could barely hear the priest speaking, I saw his lips moving, but nothing was reaching my ear drums.

It felt like my head was underwater.

Another thing Aurora would’ve hated about this entire thing. She hated religion ever since we were in high school. She hadn’t been to church in years.

Finally, mercifully, it was time for eulogies.

I listened to her parents talk about how much they loved Aurora. They talked about her cheerful disposition, her kind heart, and her sense of justice. No mention of how much they disapproved of her or constantly put her down.

I listened to Cindy talk about how Aurora was the best older sister one could ask for, never shutting her out and always including her, even when they were children, and always being there for Cindy when she was struggling with something.

Then it was my turn.

I walked slowly to the podium, trying to breathe evenly as I felt the eyes of Aurora’s other loved ones on me, picking at my black dress pants as anxiety swirled inside of me.

I had to make this count. Cindy had threatened her parents with no contact just to let me speak.

“I remember,” I started, “meeting Aurora in high school… She was the new girl and she looked so unique compared to everyone else, with her mint and lilac dyed hair and her pink sweater with a flying eyeball.”

I smiled a little as I began to get lost in the memories, I could practically see her, standing in front of the class again with her cheerful smile, not caring about the other kids whispering about how strange she looked.

“I couldn’t take my eyes off of her, she was so beautiful…”

I went on and on, barely remembering to breath, talking about how we had gotten together in high school, how kind she was to everyone, even the people trying to make fun of her, how she absolutely sucked at math, about our nine anniversaries, how Aurora would always come to my recitals and I would go to her plays. I couldn’t stop. I talked about how she was looking forward to auditioning for Morticia in an upcoming Addams Family play, how she wanted to get married with a huge cake and poofy dress, how she snorted when she laughed, how she would scroll through Tik Tok for hours no matter how many times I told her it would rot her brain, how she wanted to adopt a teenager when we were a bit older and more financially stable, wanting to give an older kid a better chance in life and…

I talked until my voice started to go.

Eventually, I was stopped by the pastor who directed me off the platform and back to my seat.

~

It was over.

I had stayed at the cemetery as long as I could, until it had closed, but I was home now.

As I enter the apartment, I feel the emptiness of it overwhelm me.

It had been a week since her death, so you’d think I’d be used to the uncomfortable silence, but after the funeral I just…

I couldn’t take it.

I slide down the front door, curling into myself as the sobs I was holding in all day wrack my body.

Hello Again

It was finally the day.

I'm at the cemetery again, a bundle of pink camellias, blue salvias, and, her favorites, black devil violas in hand as I stood in front of Aurora’s boring gray gravestone.

“Hey Princess,” I heard myself say as I gently placed the bouquet on the dirt, “I know you probably are looking down on me, screaming that I should live my life but… A part of me dies every time I remember you’re not here. The apartment… It just feels so empty.” I paused, licking my lips, “I miss you cooking while you try to dance to your punk music,I miss the movie marathons we used to have and the board game nights, I miss watching X-Files with you, I miss just seeing you reading on the couch.”

I felt tears in my eyes, “I miss you.”

Taking a deep breath, I continued, “everyone keeps telling me that it will get easier, that, one day, this pain will be gone but I just,” I trailed off, wiping at my eyes, “I can't keep doing this anymore, I can't live without you…”

I sat next to the headstone, pulling the bottles out of my backpack.

Two full bottles of over-the-counter sleep meds, an extra large bottle of painkillers, and a bottle of weedkiller should be plenty.

I downed them with sips of water whenever I needed it, until the bottles were empty and waited while my stomach turned, wanting to throw it all up, but I forced myself to keep it down as I went through a final checklist in my head.

Over the past two months, I had been getting things in order in preparation for my plan, putting a will together, writing letters to my family, friends and Cindy, and even planning out my own celebration of life.

Finally, I felt myself start to slip into unconsciousness.

I turned my head to the sky, feeling a drowsy smile spreading across my face.

“I’m on my way Aurora…”

~

I woke up and, for a moment, was disappointed in seeing white above me and something soft under my head, thinking that someone had unfortunately found me and I had been rushed to the hospital.

Then, I saw her face, her beautiful face, lean over me, bright halo over her dyed pink head, and tears in her beautiful brown eyes.

I sprung up and wrapped my arms around her, holding her tightly.

“Hello again.”