The only thing that remained was the horror of what she’d done.
The blood, the cries, the terror that gripped her heart.
And then the emptiness that remained after it.
The blankness that lived inside of her, mocking her fragility.
Her head throbbed; there was so much in there, trapped inside her skull begging to get out, but when she reached for the desperate thoughts, they slithered away like worms hiding from the sun.
She looked down into her coffee cup again, the inky liquid almost magnetic in its pull on her. She picked it up and took a long swallow, the bitterness sliding down her parched throat. Ironic really, that she would be thankful for a mouth full of bad coffee.
How life changes, ebbing backwards and forwards, forever shifting like the tide of the ocean, and yet, all the while going nowhere.
But not Delores. She was going somewhere. She had a place to be, a reason for living, for breathing. At least for the moment.
When she got there, to her destination, her torment would be over, forever.
Everyone’s would be over.
She’d get what she deserved, and she accepted that fate with ease.
It was, after all, the very least she deserved.
She sighed again and stood up, before pulling the slender straps of her purse over her thin shoulder, and placed money on the counter for her coffee.
Delores pushed open the outer door of the small truck stop diner and paused on its threshold. The heat moved over her chilled body, her body absorbing it into her flushed skin to wipe away the coolness of the air-conditioning inside. It was a relief, though one she knew she wasn’t worthy of.
No, she didn’t even deserve bad coffee and cool air. She didn’t deserve anything. Ever again.
Not after the atrocity she had committed.
“Sweetie?”
Delores turned back around and found the waitress standing behind her. Sally winced at the visible torture trapped in Delores’s features before continuing speaking. “I know you said that you wasn’t hungry but I got you some pie to take out. It’s on me.”
Sally held out her hand, a medium white Styrofoam container in it. Delores blinked, and her lips parted to speak, but she had no idea what to say. How could she thank this woman for the thoughtful gesture? It was a kindness that she hadn’t earned after all.
If only she knew what she’d done. What an evil person she really was.
She wouldn’t be offering her pie. No Sir.
She’d be doing something much worse.
Sally shook her head and pressed the container into Delores’s hand. “Take it, please. You look like you could do with this more than these overweight truck drivers.” She forced a small laugh that held no real humour, and Delores willed her mouth to smile, to give something back to this woman who was being kind to her.
If only she knew…
“I…”
Sally shook her head again. “It’s just a piece of pie, it’s no big expense.”
Delores nodded and took the pie. “Thank you. It’s an expense you didn’t have to make…you don’t even know me.”
Sally waved her off, tucking a small strand of hair which had come loose behind her ear. “I don’t need to know you. I’m not blind, I can see that you’re not okay.” Sally pressed her hands into the front pocket of her apron. “I’m sorry, it’s really none of my business.”
Delores clasped the small container of pie to her body, her eyes not being able to meet Sally’s. She nodded, unsure of what to say.
“Thank you,” Delores finally said, her voice quiet and unsure.
“It’s really no problem. You take care of yourself now, okay?”
Delores finally looked up at Sally, letting their eyes connect. Her shame and grief were visible even to this woman who didn’t know her, and Sally took a step backwards. A small frown pulling at her features.
“Sally! Get your sweet ass back to work!”
Both Delores and Sally turned to look at a middle-aged man yelling across the diner at her. Delores watched the waitress, seeing her shoulders round as she took a deep breath, yet when she turned around, her smile was back in place.
“You feel better now, you hear,” Sally said as she dusted her hands off on her apron. “And remember that there’s always tomorrow.”
Delores nodded. “There’s always tomorrow,” she repeated, sealing the words inside of herself. Making them belong and wishing they were true.
“Exactly,” Sally smiled, happy that her words seemed to be sinking into this woman. “Tomorrow is a new day to start fresh, to love and to show kindness to others. Everything always looks better in the morning.”
“I wish that were true.”
Sally frowned. “Sometimes our paths aren’t as simple as we want them to be, but when we sweep the dust to one side the picture is clear—our path is clear. You just have to have strength and believe that everything will turn out okay.”
Delores felt the sting of Sally’s words. Nothing would be okay ever again. Nothing. There was nothing good left inside of her. It was all dead and rotted. Brittle bones and dried out veins. She was an empty carcass waiting for her time on this earth to end. There was no point to anything anymore.
“Sally, for God’s sake, come on!” the man called out again.
Sally rolled her eyes. “Listen, just think of someone that’s important to you, hold them close and keep going. That’s all we can really do. One foot in front of the other—for them.”
“What we do, we do out of our love for others,” Delores replied almost numbly.
Her words were true and heartfelt, because that was, after all, what she was doing. She was doing this out of love. A moment of insanity had changed everyone’s lives forever and an act of hate could only be forgiven with an act of love…an act of unselfishness.
Of total self-sacrifice.
Delores looked up through her lashes, seeing that Sally was still staring at her, “Yes, do it out of love for them,” Sally replied, feeling like she’d finally gotten through to Delores.
*
Back in her car, Delores rolled down all the windows. The air in the car was stuffy and humid, the car almost suffocating after sitting in the heat for so long. It was difficult to catch her breath. But then, she always struggled to breathe these days. Her pained heart was relentless, she was sure it only continued to throb in her chest as an aching reminder that she was alive, and others were not.
Her lungs though, they always resisted. The action of pulling air into them was a constant struggle. As if her lungs were trying to snuff out her life.
Her body was against her. And she couldn’t really blame it. Though she loathed herself much more than anyone else ever could. She turned the key, and the engine started with a roar. She watched, mesmerised for several moments as the attached keyring swung back and forth like a taunt. A reminder.
The sleek silver car was older than she was, and yet it ran as if it were brand new and rolling fresh out of the factory doors. Michael had loved this car, probably more than he had loved her. Which says a lot, because at one time he had loved her very much.
But then, love fades and dies, just like everything else in this world.
Love was as bad as hate, only twice as powerful, and even more vengeful.