sweet eurydice; forever dead, the never-live

Lovers should know each other’s hands. Of this much, she was sure. Deep ridges carved into the palms and fingers; the smaller patterned grooves etched along the entire surface. When touching, when holding, when clasping: the other’s hand should feel like a map home. The kind you never check because you know the way, but keep regardless for comfort.

Eurydice knew that, at least.

How long it had been: less certain. A stranger came to take her away from the shades and spectres and lilies and crocuses and monkshoods. He choked a bit when Eurydice asked why he was always turned away. He stretched his hand back, said it had to be this way, and told her to follow him.

There were stairs then. They weren’t there before, she thinks. Without stopping, they reached high into the dark, so far and high that Eurydice grew faint the longer she looked.

He shivered when she held his hand.

She felt his body tremble when she asked who he was.

A lover, he said, your beloved.

Then they walked a while. A short while? A long while? Enough that Eurydice’s throbbing ankle finally gave out and she had to kneel to recover.

The stranger didn’t let her go and didn’t turn around. He didn’t sit either, so his body was contorted in a manner that made her giggle. He sighed at that.

She rubbed her ankle, finding two small holes that screamed when she pressed them, and thought for a moment.

Where are we going?

Home. When he said it, Eurydice couldn’t imagine it.

Where was I?

Taken. Gone. 

He danced around it. Fidgeted. 

Dead, he admitted.

And I was your lover before that. He said nothing. He knew she wasn’t asking. Eurydice tasted the sentence and let it roll around. 

Dead, was she? She squeezed his hand and looked at the back of his head. His, was I? 

How long had it been that these details escaped her? She should know more about herself.

Eurydice got up, and the stranger started walking again. She wanted to ask for his name. 

She wished she didn’t have to.

Wherever she was now, there was a world before it. Eurydice could glean that much. That place is fuzzy to her. When she closes her eyes and wanders into the past, fleeting memories hide behind faraway trees and whisper behind her back. 

In the corner of her eye, a face disappears in a haze. Was that a friend of hers? 

A wind blows and uncovers a forgotten kiss on her cheek, fading when she checks.

Walking deeper in her mind, her marked foot howls and her face twists in on itself as she can’t remember what happened to it.

Whoever she was now, there was a Eurydice before that. One who knew and lived these things. One who had friends. One who had troubles. One who had a lover. How long has it been–that she was a stranger? 

Further up the stairs, she stopped again.

There’s a world before this one. That’s where you’re taking me.

The living world, where you belong. A terrible mistake brought you here.

And what will happen then?

You’ll be returned to me, my shining light. His thumb circled the back of her hand. She hadn’t noticed how warm he was compared to her. 

Will I be? Eurydice’s voice wavered. That place… I don’t think I’m from there. I can’t remember it more than this place. On the edge of my mind, a different person is on the other side. If I cross into that place, who will come out? Me? Your Lover?

Are they not the same?

She said nothing to that.

His voice became small. Don’t you trust me?

I don’t know you.

The stranger’s body shook as he caught himself from whipping his head back. She heard him take a sharp breath, and then he was still for a moment. Was there a sob that she couldn’t see? She heard a snort as he collected himself.

Eurydice almost fell as he yanked her forward. You’ll have to. You’ll thank me for this. Just a little further. Please.

They were going faster now, cutting through stale air. Down here, wind didn’t rush by to make clothes dance or tickle your hair. Gasping breaths left tongues numb and lungs cold. 

A piercing wail crescendoed as they ran. A light began to creep into this dreary place. Even in the rush, Eurydice was spellbound; something called the sun was a vague memory.

The stranger stopped, breathless in front of the exit. He let go of Eurydice’s hand and walked outside. Spreading his arms wide, he opened himself up to the world and took it all in.

Eurydice didn’t move past the edge. The smell of outside was familiar. The light felt inviting. But a cold draft called her to return to the dark place she knew. 

Eurydice! Are you here? The stranger didn’t turn.

I am here. I am afraid I am not there.

Please, join me. I can’t force you. Why won’t you join me?

I’m scared I don’t exist out there. She prodded a finger into the outside and pulled back at a sudden, strange sensation that flowed underneath her skin. It subsided the instant she returned to the dark.

I don’t understand.

I don’t remember before. People have homes. I don’t remember it. They have friends with names. I don’t remember them. All I have right now is you.

I don’t understand. He fought the words out.

The one you call Eurydice, what is she made up of? Happy memories? Love of you? Some terrible tragedy? Is that me? Or is it who I’ll become?

The stranger finally turned back, sharply. YOU ARE EURYDICE, MY LOVE! Tears streaked down from tortured eyes. AND I, ORPHEUS, AM YOUR–His voice stopped in his throat. 

He ran over and couldn’t get back inside. A force pushed him back, away from his desire.

No no no, I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Let me try again! Please! No! I’m sorry!

Eurydice. Looked at the man. Pounding his fists. On the invisible border.

Eurydice. Looked at her hands. Her fading hands. She wasn’t scared anymore.

Oh. I see.