Christian Droulers

Don’t be scared to regret

I regret absolutely nothing

He closed his eyes, but it wouldn’t go away. It was all around him, blinding him, annoying him, scaring him, embalming him like he was dead.

‒ Please make it go away! he screamed.

But after wasting his breath, he could just stare. All he could see was whiteness. Where was he? No one could tell, especially not him as he could no look elsewhere than straight in front of him. “Why am I holding the steering so hard?” he thought. This made him relax a bit; a known place, his car.

‒ Honey?

A voice. A sweet, mellow, recognizable voice. He was not alone.

‒ I’m here sweetheart, he said, where are you?

‒ I do not know, everything is so white! I can hardly see anything.

He wanted to look for her, but his head would not turn. He just couldn’t force his limbs to move. No struggle was possible, he just could not order his body anymore. As if his eyes would not turn away from the void in front of him.

‒ I can’t look around, can you? he asked.

‒ Yes, wait there, I am coming. Keep talking to me so I can get to you.

He hummed and suddenly, he heard a thump against the side of the car followed by a low cuss. The passengers’ door opened and closed.

‒ Are you alright? he asked.

‒ I think so, I can feel no pain. How about you?

‒ I believe so too. How do I look?

‒ Great as always.

They smiled. But he was burning inside, he could not see her smile. The void in front of him. He hated it… like he’d never hate again.

I regret nothing

‒ Where are we? she asked.

‒ My best guess is the car, somewhere in a white void? Where were you when you woke up?

‒ I do not know, I opened my eyes and all I could see was white. I could only find you by the sound of your voice.

At this point, all he could think of was to touch her, to feel her soft skin against his, have her breath caress his neck. But his hands didn’t respond to the commands he gave them.

‒ I can’t move.

‒ What?

‒ My body, it’s impossible to move it. It’s stuck, he paused. Please hold my hand.

He could hear her shuffle to get closer. He could sense her getting closer to him. He knew her hands were covering his, but he didn’t feel nor see it. In front of his eyes were only the white void, the gray dashboard and his empty, bare hands.

‒ Is your hand really over mine? he asked hesitantly.

‒ Yes, why do you ask?

‒ I… I can’t see it… he said while a tear pearled at the corner of his eye.

Neither of them had anything to add to this. They just sat there, not knowing what to do or say. He could only try to refrain his tears. After a while, he spoke up.

‒ What do you remember last?

‒ Not very sure. Were we not driving home?

‒ Maybe. Wait. No. Wasn’t it your father’s birthday dinner?

‒ Oh yes, that was it.

‒ Where are we? And how did we get here?

‒ I have no idea, but I hate this place. It is so uniform, so white, so endless… so emotionless…

Why would I have to regret something?

Silence fell around them once again. He didn’t know what she was doing, what she was thinking, he could only hear her nervous shuffling on the seat. He heard a kissing noise on his cheek.

‒ I love you, she said.

‒ I love you too, sweetheart.

‒ I am going to go and search around the car. I will not be too far off, if there is anything wrong, call for me.

‒ Okay.

Once again, he was alone. He took the time to ponder over how he got here. He could only remember driving towards her parent’s house. A chill ran up his spine. “Stupid in‒laws” he thought. He had hated them since the first time. They were rich, snob and had a superiority complex worse than he’d ever seen before. Even though they didn’t do it explicitly, they made him feel like a total failure. Why did he keep going there? Well, because she asked him with a smile. One of many things that made him follow her around like a little dog. He really loved her, and she loved him back as much, if not more. But he was scared she’d leave if he didn’t please her enough. He didn’t know how or why it had happened, but he blamed his in‒laws for it.

Well, maybe there are some things I should have done.

“Are we dead?” he wondered, “is that how death is, how it feels? No… it just can’t be that way.” He mentally rehearsed what had happened before this. They had left from their apartment in the morning. It was a two hour drive and they had to be there for lunch. They got onto the freeway and drove to exit 159. But then, his memory blurred. He knew the way by heart, but no recent images came to mind, as if he had not taken the right route. He sure couldn’t remember turning onto Cedar Park Lane. Nor turnin onto his in‒laws’ crescent. He did remember that he felt bad about himself all along as silence filled the moving car. He had been out late with friends the night before and she didn’t seem pleased with that. Over that thought, thousands of time when he had felt bad about himself at times such as this one sprung into his mind, scratching away at his saneness. They were all tiny things that just annoyed her a little, that she got over easily because she wasn’t perfect either. But to him, it was like he had committed the greatest sin of them all! That each little annoyance he brought upon her could lead to a tearful, destructive breakup. Something so awful he would not be able to go through it.

Also, things I should have not done.

The door opened and she sat in.

‒ Sweetheart, he said, I am so terribly sorry.

‒ About what? she asked, worried of his tone of voice.

‒ About everything I do that you hate.

‒ What are you talking about, she replied with anxiety.

‒ Like yester night, I know you hate it when i come back late.

‒ Don’t be stupid. I was just worried, I did not know where you were. I was scared that something had happened to you. I am anything but angry about it. Next time, just give me a call if you’re not home at your usual time alright?

“She’s not mad?” he thought.

‒ But… why didn’t you say anything during the whole trip?

‒ I was thinking.

‒ About what?

‒ About us, about you, more precisely.

“What have I done this time?” he wondered, his heartbeat already accelerating, torturing his mind before an explanation.

But she continued before he could word his thoughts.

‒ I noticed you haven’t changed at all since we met.

‒ And that’s not…

‒ Please let me finish, she cut, please…

‒ Sorry…

‒ When we first started to see each other, I felt great with you. You were all sweet and nice and always there for me. I liked that, and I thought it would somewhat slow down to a more, shall I say, “passive” love.

‒ But I…

‒ But it seemed like each day, you became more dependant. You make me feel like you absolutely need to spend every single second in my presence. As if I were some kind of golden idol you had to venerate. Honey, we cannot desire each other if we are never apart.

There was an awkward silence that settled in the atmosphere. Him, dumbstruck by her words, her, relieved to have finally spoken her mind.

Maybe I do regret some things…

‒ But… he lowly mumbled, I thought you were mad at me for not being there enough.

‒ And I thought I would have known you after a year together.

‒ I’m sorry, I’ll try to stop.

‒ Don’t apologize, that’s what you always do. I am not superior to you, You don’t have to report to me after the things you do. All I ask is that you love me and that you be yourself. Stop trying to make ME love you. You don’t need to do that.

A tear appeared at the corner of his eye. Slowly, many more made their way down his cheeks.

‒ I love you, he said.

‒ I love you too, she said as she hugged him, crying as well.

This time, he felt her skin brushing against his, her breath on his neck. When she released him, he turned his head and screamed when he saw her for the first time since the beginning of all this. He wished he had not been suddenly able to look at her.

I regret what I have done wrong.

Her whole face was covered in blood, cuts and scratches covered all visible skin and part of her scalp had been ripped off.

‒ What is wrong? she asked.

But he didn’t know what to say. What was there to say? Maybe he couldn’t say it, maybe he didn’t want to say it. All he could do was just sit there, looking at her, crying, his mouth open, trying to scream but he couldn’t anymore, as if all the words he wanted to say did not dare get out of his mouth because of the horror they would depict.

‒ Talk to me, please! she cried, feeling despair in front of him.

But her voice was slowly going away… she was moving away, the distance between them growing, the colours around them fading. Only weeps could now be heard. They were alone, yet they were together.

I regret everything!

He woke up in the hospital. A nurse announced him she was dead. But he knew it already.