The apartment door banged open, loudly hitting the wall before rebounding on the hapless resident. Fortunately she was prepared for it, because this was by far the first time she had come home pissed beyond rational thought. However, it was one of the first where tears blurred her vision.

She kept meaning to look for other places, maybe crash another week at her friend's place, but each had lives. Time. Moving on, not remembering those things better left forgotten – yet they came more clearly now, then ever.

Moving on was hard, when with every blink something else reminded you of…better days. A fine line walked between crippling grief and overwhelming happiness, blurring lines of reality in the mind. Sleepless nights, cold sorrow, rapid tears.

Throwing her key ring against the nearest wall – barely missing a picture frame – she was satisfied with the dull thud only for moments. Enough time for her to remember to shut the door. Move into her home and slip off her shoes, and heavy over coat. Yanking her fogged glasses off, she roughly brought her sleeve up to wipe the tears that escaped.

The picture…

"Do we have to, El?"

"Yes, of course. You can't just deny my sister her fun…That would be like…like…" Pale hands thrown up in frustration.

"Like robbing a tiger of its teeth." A beautiful laugh. Bleached hair cut close to the head rippling slightly with the movement; glowing in the light – a halo.

"Yes, exactly. A tiger of her teeth. Besides, that dress does look ravishing, love." A soft smile, eyes of a hazel tone shining with mirth, and something a little more serious.

"I feel utterly ridiculous."

"Ah, but we cancel each other out." A shit eating grin as both heard their names called – the photographer was ready to take their picture in the old fashioned get up.

A choked sob was released into the silent room. Only it wasn't so silent, if you knew what to look for. Here, a shelf covered with snow globes – tacky and expensive – a personal touch, each with a story. Pictures line the wall, of family old and new. A duvet once resting on the shabby couch was on the floor, as if tossed away the haste of one trying to find something - another story there. There, a single, almost white, tennis shoe resting on a heeled boot lying haphazardly on the coffee table. Both of obviously different sizes.

Suddenly desperate to have noise, a distraction, she stumbled into their – her – bedroom, smacking her shoulder on the door frame hard enough to gasp at the sharp pain from both sources. Collapsing on to the neat bed – the only sign of organization in the room – leading to yet more tears inspired by the scent still clinging to the sheets. Like a cross between lilies and lavender. With just hint of the rose perfume she preferred.

A home made recipe, the shampoo – something lost…now. She would have to save the last bottle made. Make it last, so she wouldn't have to live without the scent – something that never occurred as a possibility, before. So much was…lost…already, some stability had to be made or she would be cut free forever.

Gently rolling over so she was on her back, she reached a hand out, searching blindly for the remote to the music player. Something both had agreed upon as a splurge. With hands now accustomed to the ritual, her fingers found the power button – and then the volume. Turning it up, even as she realized just what song was playing and choked on tears.

"You cannot quit me so quickly
There's no hope in you for me"

"These fickle, fuddled words confuse me, like 'Will it rain today'…Come on Rave! You know you want to…Promise I'll make it worth your while…"


"I said so didn't I?"

Both smiled as the song restarted, the only one that both could agree whole heartedly upon – The Space Between, by Dave Mathews. It's lyrics allowing for some new insight with every replay, and they replayed it as often as they could.

Leaning upon each other, they managed, just barely, to contain laughter as the words started. In unison, all three voices a perfected harmony, though El would ever love to deny this most feminine part, sang, "You cannot quite me so quickly."

"There's no hope in you for me." Gazing into each others eyes, reading each others soul. They did not make it past the second verse.

A voice spoke inside; its tone of cold logic: Why do you torture yourself? It is done and over with. It should have no more control over you, none, you are weak to let these…emotions…rule you thus.

The tears continue to fall, even as the music continued on to a new song – each new one blurring into the others, until it came back full circle to the one, half an hour later. Steady stream of tears falling ever, as lips quietly sang the lyrics to them all; trying to forget, in this tried and true method.

Yet memories continued to flit about her brain, flashbacks out of order and confusing. Some of them crushing her chest, stealing her breath. Yet others causing a physical pain. Body arching in the empty hope of escaping the onslaught, leading her cry that much harder into the pillows that smelled of lavender and lilies. Her hands clenching helplessly at the sheets, desperate for some kind of anchor from the seething anguish.

A moment of clarity; the voice…faded, echoing. Speaking in her mind, soothing the aches – it sounded so much like…

I'm waiting. Hiding; I won't leave without you. Take my hand, we'll go together.

The sorrow-racked body collapsed on itself, falling limply to the bed, unclenching from all the stress.

A soft sigh, and then silence free of tears so heart-wrenching – music echoing in the background, each song blurring into the next.


The song I got lyrics from is The Space Between, by David Mathews (as mentioned).