Hallowed Longing

Contains sensitive themes of mental health struggles and physical violence.

Jordan was looking out the window as people walked to and from on a cold, autumn day. Pumpkins decorated the streets. Men and women were hand in hand, smiling. Children laughed loudly. Against all of the joy outside, Jordan, with baggy eyes and messy hair, was examining the ring on his finger with a frown.

“You can’t be silent forever”, a voice said.

Jordan cocked his head to face the woman sitting before him. Dressed formally in a dark red dress with her hair in a bun, her skin was pale as chalk. She was relaxed, sitting cross-legged on her chair. Although, she was checking her watch. “We shouldn’t waste anymore time”.

“Why am I in therapy”? Jordan asked dismissively.

The therapist sighed. “You came to me. I never asked you to come. Clearly, you need some sort of help and I’m willing to help you, but you need to speak. Tell me what’s on your mind”, she said.

Jordan sighed. He asked for some water. While the therapist poured him a glass, he noticed a small pumpkin carved with a grin in the corner of the room atop a bookcase. “Is it still Halloween?” Jordan asked. His eyes were gleaming.

The therapist shook her head. “It’s nearly Thanksgiving”.

He walked over to grab the pumpkin. “May I”?

The therapist nodded her head.

“My wife loved Halloween. Do you love it, too”? He asked, examining the little pumpkin.

The therapist nodded. “I used to dress up every year with my best friend”.

“I hate Halloween. I haven’t enjoyed it in a long time. Not since my wife…”, Jordan suddenly stopped speaking. He put the pumpkin back on top of the bookcase and walked over to the window. “Kids don’t dress up anymore, do they”?

The therapist shook her head. She checked her watch again. “Tell me about your wife”.

Jordan was still staring out the window. He saw a young boy, alone, dressed up for Halloween.

“Kids don’t have imagination anymore. They’d rather be on their phones. Always having someone else to communicate with. Ever since I was a kid, I was always the quiet type. No friends. Just stayed at home most of the time. My thoughts and I. Constant imagination”. 

A young girl, also dressed up, joined the boy outside. They laughed together and were hand in hand. Jordan grinned.

“Her name was Phoebe and we first met when her family moved in next door. Since she was new, she didn’t have any friends, either. She seemed shy, too. I felt an instant connection. It took a while to break out of our shells, but we eventually spent all of our time together, before, during, and after school. I stayed at her house and she stayed at mine. She was my best friend. My only friend. Halloween was our favorite holiday. Dressing up and pretending to be different characters was so much fun. We went out to Trick-or-Treat every year. It was great. We were inseparable. I never wanted this to end. I wanted to be with her forever. Once we became teenagers, we continued spending time together, especially on Halloween. We were roommates in college. I even proposed to her on Halloween.

Jordan stopped to drink some water, but froze. The boy and girl walked away from each other. He sat back down on the sofa, staring at the pumpkin again. Tears streamed from his eyes. “I don’t want to do this anymore”.

The therapist moved next to him, placing her hand on his shoulder. “I’m here to help you. Speak. Let it all out”.

Jordan clenched his fists. “Our marriage hit a rocky place. I don’t know why. Maybe she lost interest in me. I didn’t do anything out of the ordinary. I’m the same me. During college, Phoebe introduced me to a man. A friend of hers, she said. Last year, on Halloween, she said that she’d be seeing him from now on. Was I not good enough? Did our history mean nothing to her? I felt deeply depressed. To top everything off, she became sick. I felt sick, too. Mentally and spiritually sick. But, her sickness grew a lot. She was bedridden for some time. I may have been angry and confused with her, but I couldn’t stand by. I stepped in to care for her, but her new man always had something to say. Although, she never dismissed me. Later on, however, her condition worsened and she was hospitalized. I tried to visit her, but the doctors would always tell me that she wasn’t seeing any visitors”.

Jordan stood up and aggressively threw the glass of water at the wall. The wooden floor was all wet. Glass bits and pieces shined on the floor. The therapist told him to sit down, but Jordan kept pacing back and forth.

“Those doctors told me that I couldn’t see my wife. My wife! They held Phoebe from me”, Jordan yelled. “This past Halloween, after a year of sickness and this doctor nonsense, I decided enough was enough. I decided to see my wife. I entered the hospital and skipped that stupid desk with those stupid secretaries. I ran up the stairs and found her”. Jordan gulped. He stared at the floor for a moment, then into the therapist’s eyes. “She had an oxygen mask and tubes were all over her body. I was shocked, but at that moment, I knew what I had to do. I removed all of that junk and told her that I was taking her home. She couldn’t speak, but I knew she was ready to return home. I knew she missed me. My love for her was greater than any other person. I lifted her up from the bed and gave her a powerful hug. She hugged me, too. Though, she scratched me a little, probably delirious from whatever medications the doctors gave her. I hugged her tighter and tighter until she stopped scratching. Eventually, I felt her warmth cool, until she was stone cold. Her sickness took her and I’m sure those stupid doctors and nurses worsened her condition. But, I was with her until the end, as any respectable husband would”.

Jordan sat back down on the sofa. He held his face in his palms while bawling his eyes out. The therapist poured herself a shot of alcohol and stood by the window. She watched the people outside. There were only adults, no children. Living life unbeknownst to the tragedy spoken of in this room. She drank the shot and tensed her body as she swallowed. She faced Jordan.

“What happened afterwards”? The therapist asked.

“I don’t remember, but I’m sure my depression exploded. Now, I’m here with you”.

The therapist closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. “Jordan, I have many things to say regarding your situation. But first, are you sure you don’t know why you’re here with me”?

Jordan shook his head.

“You were never a married man, Jordan”, the therapist said with a sigh. “It’s true that you two were childhood friends, but Phoebe never saw you as a romantic partner. As you both grew older and she simply moved on, you clung to her, never able to find anyone else nor wanting anyone else. You believed that she belonged to you, even though she didn’t. Once she finally met her boyfriend, you couldn’t live with yourself. After she got sick, she didn’t reject you at first. But, once you started caring for her more than her own boyfriend, she felt it was time to put distance between the two of you”.

The therapist walked over to Jordan and crouched down in front of him. They were face to face. Jordan was wide eyed. “Phoebe was on the road to recovery. But, you removed her life support. Then, you strangled her, Jordan. You killed Phoebe. That last night at the hospital was a night of tragedy. You can only blame yourself”.

Jordan shoved the therapist back. He was crying excessively. “No!” He yelled. “You’re lying”.

“Your obsession over her made you believe that she was yours, yet she was never yours to begin with”, the therapist said.

Jordan yelled repeatedly.

“Settle down. You're being obnoxious”.

“How dare you lie to me and then tell me to calm down”.

The therapist slapped Jordan’s face, then grabbed his shoulders. “You killed her”, she said slowly. “Accept the truth”.

“No”, he whispered. “I couldn’t have. I loved her so much. She loved me. I didn’t do it”.

“Did Phoebe accept your proposal”? The therapist asked.

Jordan didn’t answer. He looked at his ring, then out the window. Suddenly, it was nighttime and the streets were empty. He was pale. “What do I do now”?

“The police sent you to me, Jordan. You’re going to be gone for a very long time”, the therapist said. “You must accept your actions and apologize. Only then, can you rest easily”.

The door opened and policemen entered. Their faces were skulls. They seized Jordan. He didn’t struggle. He let them take him freely. He was silent.

Before the police could take him away, the therapist walked up to him and removed the ring from his finger. “Talking is the first step to acceptance. I’m proud of you. The poor woman’s soul can rest a little easier now. I hope you can rest, too. They’ll confiscate this anyway, so I’ll hold this for you. Meet me once this is all over”.

While Jordan was being led out of the therapist’s office, he glanced out the window one last time. A little girl, dressed in a costume, stood alone. She stared up at him. “I’m sorry, Phoebe”, he whispered. “I will always love you”.

“I know. I will always love you, too”, the therapist said, putting on the ring as the door closed shut on an endless childhood.