Circles (The Shortened Version)

© 2002 Erica Branum

The cold rain seemed to come down in buckets now, slamming against the pavement beneath her feet.  Wind, so bitterly cold for that time of the year, sent it flying nearly sideways out in the open streets and howled down the alleyway between the two buildings in which she walked now.  Her feet had been carrying her for days since her car broke down upstate, but she had to keep going, she couldn’t stop until she was far.  It didn’t matter to her if she was clear across the world … or beyond, she couldn’t let it happen again.  No matter how many times she had tried to prevent it, she couldn’t stop her fate in the past, but she was determined this time.

Long red hair fell in wet strands against her face, the hood of her coat doing her no protection from the cold winter weather.  In the dim light provided by the clouds, her now pale blue eyes seemed to keep fixated on the ground in concentration as she continued her pace down the alley.  Eyes that, to the unknowing, would appear young and naive, but truly were old with wisdom.  Her face was young, yet on the inside was old and worn with wrinkles of age,  tired and wishing for the world to let her take her eternal rest.  Yet her feet still continued to walk.

Physically, she felt like any nineteen year old, but inside, her soul was ancient.  Many things, she had yet to discover, yet so many things, she knew … things that people her age would never learn of.  The aching deep in her chest almost left a sour feeling on her lips as the rain came down in sheets, seeping through her clothing and chilling her bones.  Something told her, a voice in the deep caverns of her mind, that she had to go back.  Running would only hurt her worse, and even though she may evade her fate, she wouldn’t ever feel happiness again.  Memories of only a month ago clung to her like a leech, sucking at her emotions to bring her back to where she was before … where she belonged.  She yearned to return to the comforts of her home, to rest in her own bed.

Tears began to streak down her cheeks, her feet planted … chin lifted to the sky, as memories filled her mind.  She could see herself in her kitchen, flipping bacon with a spatula.  The smells fill the small house, bringing the attention of her two roommates.  Laughter echoes as jokes are made among them … inside jokes that derived from the three of them. 

A smile spread across her face at the memories, but faded soon as she remembered that she would most likely never smell the bacon sizzling on the stove, nor would she ever see the faces of her two closest friends again … not if she continued the path she was taking.  Her face fell downward, eyes again gazing upon the ground and her mud stained shoes.  The lump in her throat knotted, her eyes squinting as she tried to swallow it down.  She had left everything behind her, her family, her friends, her home, her possessions, but mostly him.

Teeth clenched behind closed lips as the tears streamed down her face again.  She longed to hold him once more, just to stand there in his arms in silence, and to never let go.  He was the reason she had to go, and the reason why she wanted to return.  Not again could she stand to see the look in his eyes, be able to practically read his thoughts as the last of her breath slipped from her lips. 

His eyes…

She brought her hands to her face, choking on sobs that were thrust from her throat.  The only picture in her mind were those sky blue eyes, panic struck, staring at her like they had been robbed of their own life … but they had been robbed of hers.

The frustration soon settled in, she dropped to her knees on the pavement.  Doubled over, the river of tears reddening her eyes, she cursed silently to herself … and then to the sky.

“Rica?”

She froze, eyes wide and locked on the trash can ahead of her.

“Jesus Christ,” spoke the voice again, “Rica where have you been?!”

The voice was male, and spoke shakily to her.  She still didn’t move, fearful of who might be talking to her.  Someone had followed her from Vancouver to Manhattan

But who would be crazy enough to do that…?  she thought.

“Rica … please,” the voice seemed to plead, “Talk to me…”   It was then that it finally donned on her who the speaker was.  Rica brought herself to stand, shakily at first, but she maintained her balance.  Footsteps could be heard splashing lightly through the mud as the person slowly made his way over to her.  Rica kept her back to him, trying her best not to let the tears fall again.  Her heart jumped, seeming to skip a beat, as a cautious hand settled on her left shoulder.

“Rica … if I did something wrong, something that made you leave,” the voice spoke, “I’m sorry.”

She was now aware of her wet hair sticking to the back of her neck as she shook her head.  Rica brought herself to turn her head towards him, her eyes traveling upward to see his face clearly.  The sky blue eyes she was so fond of, so accustomed to, now looked down on her full of pain and relief all jumbled into confusion. 

Pain … he thinks he’s done something wrong to me, yet relief that I’m still living…

The two of them stood there in the rain for a long time, staring at each other as the water seeped down to their skin.  Not a word was spoken, but in that moment of time, they both knew that the other had something important to say … just by the look in their eyes.  Rica bit her lower lip, she wanted to tell him everything, explain to him how many times she had stayed at home instead of run … and how many times in doing so she had ended up dead.

“God,” she said, “I missed you…”

 

Correy furrowed his brow as those words parted from Rica’s lips.  She stepped right up to him and wrapped her arms around him, embracing him in a tight hug.  He didn’t have to say a word and he didn’t have to ask, he already understood.  His eyes traveled up to the sky thankfully and he wrapped his arms around her as she buried her head into his shoulder.  The clouds above them continued to loom over the city, but the rain had finally stopped, leaving the day in dim gray shades and colors.  Far above the clouds, the sun began to set in the distance, it’s spectacular array of colors hidden by the clouds from the city.  Correy continued to hold Rica … he had followed her this far, and he wasn’t about to let her go yet.  Her skin was cold and clammy from the rain, her brow damp as he pressed his lips against it to comfort her.  Rica’s sobs could barely be made as she tried her best to muffle them in his coat collar. 

“It’s Ok,” he reassured her, “I’m here to take you home…”

 

Jenn flipped through the local stations on her radio, not really paying attention to what was being played.  She sat at her desk, art pad set out in front of her ready to be used, but no ideas came to her head of what to draw.  Her mind was elsewhere at the moment, a deep sickening feeling lingered in her stomach.  For well over two months Rica had been missing.  She had taken off the night Correy was going to propose to her, taking her jeep and only a few things.  Correy soon sought out after her, determined to find out why she had left. 

Jenn put the remote to her radio down and picked up her pencil, staring at the pad blankly.  Leah was out in the kitchen, cooking the night’s dinner.  The smell of her famous Irish Stew filled the tiny apartment, the aroma normally irresistible to her.  Yet tonight, other things preoccupied her mind.

Jenn tapped the pencil against the wood desktop, waiting for anything to tell her things would be Ok … to tell her that everything she feared was completely wrong.  Something deep in her kept her from believing that, however.

“Jenn!!!!” came Leah’s voice from the kitchen.

Her head snapped up, fingers dropping the pencil in her hand.  Lifting herself from her chair and only a few seconds later she was at her door, then out of it, rushing into the kitchen.  Leah stood by the stove, her hand covering the receiver of the phone she held in her other hand.  Jenn furrowed her brow, not able to read the expression on Leah’s face.

“What?” she asked, “What is it?”

“Correy found Rica!”

 

 

Rica shivered, pulling the dark green robe tightly around her for warmth.  She sat on the edge of the hotel bed in only that, paying little attention to the television that blared in front of her.  Some old western with Clint Eastwood, an actor who looked like he could have passed away at least three years ago.  Correy could be heard in the next room on a long distance phone call back home.  Rica had heard him mention Leah’s name a few times, so she assumed that was who he was talking to.  Her hair still fell in wet strands down to her waist and she was sure her makeup was smeared, but she didn’t care.  Blue eyes glanced up to the door as it opened, she hadn’t even heard Correy hang up the phone, but apparently he had.  He stood there in a dry pair of clothing, hands tucked into his pockets as he looked down at her quietly.  Rica wiped a few drops of water from her face, lifting her chin up to see him more clearly.

“Who was on the phone?” she asked, her voice seeming more hushed than normal.  Correy sighed, sitting down on the bed beside her. 

“Leah and Jenn,” he said, “They’re worried sick about you, you do realize that…”

Rica’s head lowered, eyes fixing on her bare feet.  She knew she had hurt not only him, but just about everybody she knew back in Vancouver by leaving.  Nothing could be said to explain how she felt, nor could any actions.  So she only sat there, lips pinched together as her eyes examined the intricate patterns in the rustic yellow carpet.  Her attention became so focused on the ground that she it startled her when Correy wrapped his right arm around her shoulders.  She had been shaking from the cold again and hadn’t even realized it.

“Rica,” he started, “I had something I wanted to ask you before you left a few months back…”

She swallowed, knowing what was to come next.  The tension in her  chest seemed to be building, she wanted to accept what he was to ask, but she knew what would happen if she did.  The only way was to tell him the truth…and pray that he would understand.

Correy slid off the bed, kneeling down into Rica’s path of sight.  He pulled her hands into his and held them firmly, yet gently, staring up at her.  His thumb and index finger ran slowly across the pinkie ring that he had given her near the end of 11th grade a few years back.

“I know this is a little informal,” he said as he cleared his throat, “But I need to know…”

Rica fidgeted a little, running her tongue over the back of her teeth as he fumbled for words to say.  She could feel his hands shaking either from cold or nervousness in hers.

“Will you marry me?” he finally sputtered out, looking only to the ground momentarily before his eyes met back up with hers.  Rica flinched, fearing that was what he was going to say.  Somehow Correy realized he had said something wrong and he immediately loosened his grip on her hands.  Rica furrowed her brow, pinching her eyes shut to keep from letting any tears slide by.  A failure.  The tears slowly began sliding down her cheeks, vision too blurred to see Correy sit down beside her again.  He pulled her close to himself, trying to calm her shivering.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, “I shouldn’t have asked…I-it wasn’t the right timing…”

Rica shook her head, pulling back so she could see him in the eyes.

“Correy,” she said in a scathed voice, “That’s not it…I-I’d love to marry you, but I don’t want to hurt you…”

Her voiced trailed off in a whisper, she could tell that a cold was overtaking her by how her voice was so easily parting from her…and how sore it was leaving her throat.  Correy blinked, a little relieved, yet confused.

“Hurt me?” he questioned, “Rica … I … what do you mean?”

“I just know, Correy, that this is all going to end in pain…I’ll end up hurting you,” she swallowed.

“Rica, how do you know you’d hurt me?”

Rica let an ironic smile pass over her lips slightly before it faded.  She looked up at Correy at a side ways glance and shrugged.

“Because this isn’t the first time you’ve proposed to me.”

Correy bent forward, cupping her hands in his own.

“But this time, I won’t let him take you from me.”

 

Rica nearly choked, practically  spinning to face Correy.  Her heart felt as if it were to pound out of her chest as she looked up at her boyfriend … well .. fiance.

“How…how did you know??” she managed to sputter out.

Correy shrugged, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

“How did I know about what?  How someone always manages to shoot you on our wedding day?”

Rica furrowed her brow, standing up.  She linked her hands behind her back, pacing with a pensive expression on her face.

“Well, that…I mean, you could only know if you were there…and in order for you to even be there you had to be…oh my God..”  Rica trailed off, her eyes finally meeting with Correy’s as he nodded.

“I’m caught in the same circle, Rica…only mine’s a little different,” he explained, “I die a week after your life is taken…via suicide, however..”

Rica swallowed, sitting down beside him once more.  She watched his eyes slowly look her over, then fall to the floor.

“I didn’t realize until about a month ago that I wasn’t alone in this circle…loop…whatever you want to call it.  When I found out you were caught in it too, I became more determined to get us both out of it…to find who keeps killing you…”

Rica brought her hand to his cheek, lifting his chin slightly so that he was eye to eye with her.  Her eyes remained locked on his for a long time until she let her hand drop to her side slowly.

“God…If only I’d known, Correy…I wouldn’t have run…”

She bit back her tears, feeling the warm cotton of his flannel against her skin as Correy embraced her in a hug.

“I’m so sorry, Correy,” she whispered.

“Don’t be,” he replied, “We both know now, and things are going to change.”

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