Lucky for Us |
Issue 7
|
Asher sat in his velvet chair that was now his for the taking, as he mindlessly sloshed around his glass of hickory spike with his hand, while he just stared into the abyss of the quiet study room that was now officially his. Everything in that home was finally his to own: the main bedroom that they coexisted in at night, the living area that they hosted gatherings in to give them a reason to be away from one other, the office that was his from the start yet she always found a reason to be in there; every single solitary corner was now in his possession.
His wife was dead. It was sudden yet quiet. However, Asher wasn’t to be questioned, as their relationship was held in high regard by everyone around them. Why elaborate when falseness is what kept them together? They were having her funeral, while her husband shut himself away in his study, drinking away as if he had any misery left in his soul. It was much too soon to ask, but it was what he already had an answer to: “Would he be willing to share his space yet again for another potential companion?” Despite the content of his own belongings, he had settled on one particular person he always wanted to share his space with. They had spent countless years together in each other’s company: in the bar, out on the town, rummaging through the stores, in the far ends of the forest, and, when they could, in the dark nights where no moon nor stars could shine upon them to ruin what could never be seen. It was not obvious at the first glance, not even to the passerby nor the companions they also had. It was never meant to be obvious to those who looked their way, even once, because if they looked a little closer, let it just be said that he would have been dead long before Asher’s wife. Asher refocused his gaze from the blurry sight of the dark multi-colored spines of books, when the door hinge creaked and the doorknob was fizzled with. In stepped into the small square room, alongside him, was the man in the black tuxedo with a rose clipped into the folds of the suit, as he held a glass of champagne in his right hand: Felix. He stopped as soon as he entered; “Oh, I didn’t realize you already had a glass.” Felix chuckled, as his eyes met with Asher’s, who was able to keep smiling yet in the event that they were in. Asher gave him a small grin. Felix was always the chap to put you in a good mood, even in the lowest part of your life. However, Asher wasn’t at that point in life yet. They both knew that. “So, tell me,” Felix questioned, as he placed himself onto the miniature glass table that could have easily been broken from the slightest force of pressure, yet it hadn’t given in yet. “How is it that you are moping on possibly the best day of your life?” To onlookers, their families and supposed friends, Asher and his wife, Amity, were seen as a well-respected couple. Felix seemed to have been the only one who was stingy the moment he saw them hand in hand. They had money, a nice home, and attention, which yes, is expected to be jealous of, but that wasn’t what pressed Felix. He saw they were a lie when their fingers interlocked, and even across the room, Asher’s eyes did not glimmer the same way as before, when all he needed in life was his best companion. Everyone else believed they were happy, but they were just barely content. She loved his money, while he could only go after what he couldn’t in public. Everyone is expected to settle down with someone and build success from it, and as long as it fits the frame, no one will bother examining the photo. They fit that status, they just had to live in it. No one had really thought it would have resulted in an early death, but, it didn’t have to be, had she been more careful. “I’m not sulking, Felix. You know that!” Asher snidely remarked. He continued to shake his little glass that surprisingly hadn’t spilled onto the nice rug. If what he was about to ask turned sour, then a stain on the rug wouldn’t have been as hard to clean up. He slowly placed his short glass onto the little glass table, right next to where Felix was sitting. “I have been thinking of what I will do with my life now that the hardest part is over,” Asher started, as he bent himself over to face the floor instead of Felix, as he fiddled with his chapped hands, clenching them together, as if he was holding hands with another soul. “and I was thinking that you could have more of a part in that?” Asher slowly looked at Felix. Felix slowly removed the glass rim from his moist lips, and placed his tall glass next to Asher’s. “You want me to come live with you?” Felix questioned, though he knew he didn’t have to. He already had an answer; he had an answer since they met. Asher flickered a few expressions before he settled on a curious smile. Felix gasped, as if there was no air in between the two in the tiny yet filled room. He chuckled softly, and he tried to muffle his snickers from getting any louder, in order for the guests to not wonder why the sound of laughter was apparent in such an event. Asher smiled widened as his buddy hunched himself over in an attempt to answer, but his answer became official when Felix’s pressure against the tiny glass table came crumbling down into fragments of pieces. The shards flew into the air and onto the rug that clung tight to the pieces. The champagne and hickory sloshed and stained into the rug quickly. Asher got down on his knees to assist Felix from the floor. He heaved him from the floor, hand in hand, careful to not get close to the shards of piercing glass. Felix remarked: “Well, I guess I have to now, so I can get you a new table for me to break.” They laughed into each other’s shoulders, as they held each other so tightly, that they could feel the tiny tears of happiness fall onto their nice suits. The door hinge started to creak, which forced Felix to immediately step away from Asher’s embrace, as they both looked towards the opening of the door to reveal an elderly lady in an apron and holding a broom. “I overheard a large crash, and might I say Asher, you are quite the man of accidents!” The maid remarked, as she waddled herself over to sweep up a pile of brokeness. “First Amity’s vanity and now this? You are certainly a handful!” Asher chuckled alongside her, while Felix confusingly peered at him. She swiftly sweeped up the broken shards and went back out to grab a rag to clean up the spill. That wasn’t the only spill, though. “Amity’s vanity?’ What does she mean?” Felix asked, as Asher reflected, as if he had forgotten he had a wife. “Oh, she is just referring to Amity’s vanity she broke before she died.” Asher casually said, as he went to shut the door and lock it. “She broke?" he questioned, as he slowly slid off his overcoat and let it slide down onto the dirty carpet. “Since when did she break anything that had her face in it?” Asher had got to the door when the question, or rather, the remark, set into the thick room. He stopped at the slightly open door, and was ready to close it. He froze for only a moment, until he willed his hand to shut it and lock it from the outside world from entering. Felix eyed him in the act. Asher stared at the door as he spoke. “She did technically break it, … I just helped her,” Asher whispered, as he slowly turned towards Felix. Felix blinked a few times, but he was not one to dawdle. “Asher, what did you do to that woman?” Felix cautiously stated, as he tried to repress the tingling fear that fizzled in his throat. He watched Asher slowly walk past him, and he did not so much as glance in Felix’s direction. Asher made his way to his chair, and was ready to sit. He knew he should have turned around, but instead, he slowly lowered himself, pivoted himself around, and let himself fall into the seat, his eyes facing the still stained carpet. He slowly looked up to meet the one he was going to have to face for the rest of his days. “It was the only way we could be together!” Asher quietly stammered, as his eyes shot back down, only now he focused on his dry and skin-chipped hands. He had scrubbed them profusely enough that he could have easily broken the skin. “Only way for us to be together?” Felix stammered. He threw up his hands and stretched his long fingers through his curly hair. He lightly inhaled the condensed air of the small and tense room, as he waddled about, until he finally willed himself around to face his quiet mate. “We aren’t supposed to be together!” He took his time reaching towards Asher. They were only an arm’s lengths apart, but it didn’t matter; Asher was trying to stay as far away as possible. He did not get this far for the truth to be spilled. Felix’s shoes did not make a sound against the rug, but his shadow engulfed Asher’s short stature. “Tell me, as if I was your wife who you are supposed to tell everything to: What the hell did you do to Amity, Asher?” Asher slowly raised his pitiful eyes to Felix’s unimpressed stare. They were a married couple already. Asher’s eyes scattered as he bit his dry lip, before he lowered his clouded head and inhaled a few times, as if he had been holding his breath for weeks. “Watch your breath, Asher, you may just lose it.” Asher gripped the armrest, as he swiftly hoisted himself upright to face his opponent. “Not so much of a syllable will be uttered to anyone, or you just may meet the same fate!” Asher hissed, as he squinted his eyes and lifted himself by the toes of his shoes to match Felix’s height. Felix slightly moved backwards, but he found Asher’s aggressiveness of that to a child, as he stood on the toes of his shoes and rolled up his face like that of a pout. Asher jolted his head to the side, where his eyes landed on the heavy door. The door was still locked, but Asher was waiting for it to swing open to this dirty confession. It wasn’t opening any time soon. They were both locked inside, and there was no possible way for them to leave each other. It was already too late. “I shoved her into that vanity table!” Asher muttered under his breath, eyeing the spines of the many unread books. “I didn’t mean to kill her, I just wanted her to shut up!” “Yeah, you sure seemed to. Keep talking!” Felix demanded, as he rolled up his sleeves, and squinted his eyes in curiosity, as if he was an angered parent to a rambunctious toddler who had broken their favorite vase. Asher guiltily looked up, as the child who feared what punishment they were to ensue once they admitted the truth, about that precious vase. |
ISABEL PAYNE
won 1st Place of the Fiction Writing Contest. Isabel is an online university student through Indiana University Online, who is currently majoring in English. Isabel has always enjoyed writing stories. She has been writing stories since she was a child. As she has aged, she went from writing simple sentence stories with already existing characters from books and movies, to crafting her own original ideas for plots, and creating her own original characters to take part in her stories. |