Lucky

Dark clouds were beginning to loom over head from the west, bringing cold, strong winds with it as Richard pulled into his driveway. He can't remember the last time he had come home an hour early, so he wasn't use to not seeing his wife's car in the driveway. Richard put the car in park, then sat there with his hands still tightly gripping the steering wheel, staring out through the windshield. Despite the cold of the late fall evening, he could feel the sweat running down the middle of this neck and back, making his skin itchy and irritated. He could also feel his breath becoming irregular as his heart thumped uncomfortably in his chest, each beat echoing loudly in his ears.

He heaved a heavy sigh, glancing at the clock at the same time: 5:02 PM.

Richard turned off the ignition, realizing for the first time his hands were shaking slightly. He gripped the steering wheel tightly again, causing his knuckles to go white, swallowing the lump in his throat. He slowed his breathing some, trying to regulate his heart, then continued to stare forward.

Two more minutes passed by slowly, 5:04 PM.

Finally he blinked, releasing his grip on the steering, causing prickling sensations to spread through his hands and fingers. Ignoring the sensations he opened the door with his left hand, trying to pull his keys out of the ignition at the time same with his other hand but failing to do so he sat back in his seat and pulled the keys out carefully and slowly. Stepping out of the car the first few drops of rain splashed onto his nose, shoulders and head; he didn't feel it. Almost as if on an after thought he turned around and ducked back into the car, grabbing the white standard sized envelop which sat on the passenger's seat. He sighed as he pulled himself out of the car once more, then shut the door softly. The raindrops had increased in number and in size, but again he didn't notice.

Slowly Richard started making his way towards the front door of his house. The wind started increasing, blowing against his pants and jacket, as the rain drops and black clouds increased overhead. A feeling of regret, fear and panic was setting in as he neared closer to the door; he tightened his grip on the white envelop he held in his hand, almost crushing it. Reaching for the handle of the door, he was relieved and shocked to see his hand wasn't shaking at all, but when he went to unlock the door he found his fingers were numb and clumsy. Finally her jerked the door open and stepped into the dark hallway.

Shaking his jacket off, Richard threw it on the stairs as he walked by, throwing his keys with it, but keeping a tight grip on the white envelope. He continued on into the kitchen, switching on the light and placing the white envelop on the stove with deliberate care, but even when he was finally satisfied with the placement he wasn't able to take his fingers away from the smooth white paper. Standing there staring at his well trimmed, clean finger nails he didn't notice the warm, wet tears running down his cheeks and dripping off his chin. Not being able to take it any longer he burst into miserable, shameless sobs, covering his face with both his hands, spreading his own tears across his face at the same time. But even through his spread, tear soaked fingers he continued to stare at the white, lightly creased envelop, his eyes on the edge of fear almost as if his fate was sealed in that envelop and in a way it was.

After some time Richard regained himself and wiping his dripping nose with the back of his hand he glanced at the clock on the stove: 5:10 PM. Once again he let his eyes stray to the white envelope. He knew exactly what was in it and exactly what it said word for word. He had planned what was going into that envelop weeks ahead of time, he went over it in his head every waking moment and because of that he was afraid he'd start mumbling it in his sleep; but he didn't and ultimately the day has now come when he has to put his plan into play and act upon it. But even in these final moments before action Richard wondered if he'd actually be able to do it, if he'd be able to commit an act that he knew under no circumstances could be undone, forgotten about or edited out of his life. It would be a selfish act, Richard knew that much, but it did have it's good intentions, unfortunately he wouldn't be around long enough to see if those good intentions proved to be true or if they in fact would destroy someone else's life.

Suddenly feeling a bit dizzy, Richard placed both of his hands on the edge of the stove to steady himself, fresh tears running calmly down his already wet cheeks. Slowly he stood up straight again, carefully placing his full weight on his weakening knees and started off for the living room on his left, his movements slow and forced, almost as if it pained him physically to move even an inch. Finally reaching his intended destination, he knelt down in front of his stereo. Once down there, he ran his right index finger down the column of CDs in his CD stand, his eyes quickly scanning the titles. Finding what he was searching for, he pulled out the case, carefully taking the CD out, holding it with ease between his left index finger and thumb, then sliding the case back into its place. Placing the CD into the stereo, he quickly skipped ahead to track 11 and put it on repeat. Satisfied, Richard stood up, holding onto the table beside the stereo for support and stood there listening to the first few seconds of the song.

Letting the music fill the rest of the house, giving every room an eerie atmosphere, Richard solemnly walked back into the kitchen, paying careful attention to every step her took. Absentmindedly he turned off the light on his way by, then stopped short starting in front of him; rays of sun light streamed in through the high window causing the dusk in the air to dance in non-uniformed lines, but dark clouds still loomed in the west pouring rain onto the already soaked ground. The whole scene before him created a sense of serenity and peacefulness mixed with a sense of doom and melancholy. Sighing and rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands Richard made his way to the other side of the kitchen, startling the dusk floating around him. He pulled open the drawer to the left of the double sink. Reaching for a pre-selected butcher's knife he had picked out and placed carefully in a spot he'd easily see two days before, he took a deep breath voidi ng his mind of all thought and feeling. He carefully closed the drawer then backed up a couple of feet until he was in the center of the room holding the knife across the palms of both his hands like a sacred, religious artifact. The sunlight, thicker streams of light, continued to spill in through the window, the dust dancing lightly around him and the dark clouds in the west growing darker, forcing the rain to pour down harder. And like some ancient ritual, some long forgotten hymn he half closed his eyes and started quietly and tonelessly repeating the words that were sealed in that white envelope that laid on the stove not three feet away from him.

Dearest Tracey,
Let me start by saying that without you, without your love, care, understanding, compassion my life would of been a living hell and you made it a heaven on earth which makes this letter and what I'm about to do [or have done] all the more difficult.

The last two years have been the hardest for the both of us I feel. I also feel that I no longer make you happy. In fact I see it in your eyes, I see love mixed with pain and unhappiness and it pierces my heart to know I cause that and I don't know how to fix what I've done to you. I don't know how to take your pain away, I do, however, know how to end my misery and perhaps it'll end yours too. I doubt there's any way I can make this seem right. I've tired and have failed terribly to love you the way you love me and I feel that is unfair to you, which is why I'm hoping this will be a release for you. As for me, I feel there is no other way out of this mental/emotional hall and if that makes me a coward then so be it, hell is filled with cowards like me.

What you do after you read this is solely up to you, so long as you find the happiness that you so deserve. I just hope that you can understand why I'm doing this for I'm not strong enough to make any other choice and this will most likely test your strength, which I fear most...

I'll love you for all eternity,
Yours forever,
Richard

After Richard finished he opened his eyes and stood there, standing perfectly still, tears streaming freely and unnoticed down his cheeks, dripping off his chin, letting the rays of sun hit his face and bounce off the blade in front of him. As if in a dream like state he took the handle of the knife in both his fist and placed it carefully over this left breast.

"Somebody...anybody save my soul." One last cry for help.

* * * * * * * * * *

After what seemed like only a few minutes, Richard was shaken awake by familiar hands clasped gently around his shoulders. He opened his eyes slowly and carefully, letting his eyes get use to the brightness in the room. His mouth felt dry and his whole body ached, but he felt at peace, an inner peace. Letting his eyes glance around him he realized he was laying on the kitchen floor, but couldn't remember how he got there. He glanced at the clock, feeling the sudden need to know the time, but the numbers on the clock were blurred. Slowly the pain in his body faded away as he tried to focus on the figure kneeling down beside him. She looked like an angel to him; the sunlight from the window creating a golden halo around her light brown hair that hung down to her shoulders. Her bright blue eyes smiled down at him; loving him and caressing him in their warmth and happiness.

"Tracey..." Richard half whispered, half mumbled to himself.

He closed his eyes, suddenly feeling very tired and smiled to himself, also feeling as if he was in heaven.