Absolution

This was a rough draft of the first chapter of a story that I have no plans of finishing. I like it enough that I feel comfortable enough to post it here. 

Jack moved briskly through the field, eager to escape the biting cold and dew soaked grass that made it all that much worse for the lower portion of his body. He felt some relief seeing the silhouette of his destination outlined by the rising sun. To call it a ‘house’ would be far too kind. The fragmented abode that Jack approached was long since abandoned, and became a haven for adolescents to perform all sorts of various taboo acts in for a time, the taint of which still remained. Crossing the threshold where a door once stood, Jack slowed his movements to take note of the numerous murals of graffiti scattered about, stopping only briefly to shake off the undesired feeling of nostalgia.

He climbed the worn, creaky stairs; lowering his head to avoid the draft that permeated through the many rifts in the battered walls. Reaching the second story, Jack moved towards the young woman who sat on the floor whose attire, that included a short sleeved shirt, suggested she was unaffected by the cold. He said quite bluntly, “Your hair, you cut it.”

“Hey, stranger!” She said, flashing him a smile.

Jack ruffled her hair before taking a seat beside her. “It looked so much better long, you know that, right?”

The girl’s initial electric smile made her now forced one painfully obvious. “I felt like a change.”

“So,” Jack continued, ignoring the diversion. “Why am I here?”

The girl twisted uncomfortably, pulling her legs close to her chest as though she had finally become aware of the cold as she speculated whether the question was being asked of himself or her. “I… I need you to do something for me.”

Jack jumped to his feet. “Goddammit, Alice—I should’ve known.”

“Jack, wait!” Alice grabbed his arm as he stormed towards the stairs. “It’s not what you think!”

He turned; enraged to find her vibrant, green eyes locked onto his. “That’s always it, isn’t it? It’s different this time? Just like all the others? To Hell with you.” Just as he turned to leave, Jack felt her hand slip into his. Yanking away from her, he noticed the foreign object that now resided in his palm.

“I want you to have it.”

He opened his hand to find a crimson Zippo lighter with no defining features other than an inscription that had been crudely carved onto the side, a scrawl that implied haste when it came to be. Yet, he held this unremarkable object with a sense of reverence.

“I’m going to a place called *psychological treatment center/detox, to be named*, It’s somewhere in *state, to be named*. They… said I couldn’t smoke there.”

Jack turned back to face the girl, who’s vivid eyes now bore into the aged floorboards. “It’s supposed to be really nice. None of that white, rubber room and strait-jacket stuff.” With lips pursed tight and eyes searching her face for any trace of deceit, Jack remained silent.

“I know I’ve put you through more shit over the years than anyone deserves, and that I really fucked up, but you were the only person who at least tried, who believed in me, if for only a little while.”

Jack tried to maintain his sense of apprehension towards the girl, but he began to feel that her habitual ulterior motive behind such carefully chosen words was not present.

“…And I appreciate that, I really do. So, I just want to ask you to give me one more chance. I know it goes against everything you now believe in, but if you could just cast aside what you know one last time… it would really help me become the person I tricked you into believing I was.”

With that last line the spell of her romantic words was broken. Memories that caused Jack’s eyes to burn with emotions he couldn’t attach words to flooded back with such intensity that the fine line separating man from beat seemed to blur for no longer than a heartbeat.

A sharp inhale, gritted teeth, and clenched fists was all that stood between him and a crime of passion. Alice showed no fear, or even surprise upon seeing this reaction. Her lip quivered, and her head lowered even further, shame overtaking every part of her being. There was naught but dead silence, save for the rustling of leaves and grass.

There were so many things Jack could have, and to him, should have said at that moment; hateful words and the numerous synonyms to follow them that had hidden beneath thick feelings of pity and hopelessness. Yet the silence maintained.

Alice knew there was nothing left to say, and retreated down the steps, numb and disappointed in herself for succumbing to such an unrealistic feeling of hope that Jack might excuse her past deceit.

Jack’s eyes turned to the lighter, transfixed by it as he tried to replay in his head everything that had just occurred. He could not seem to grasp lucidity. So surreal. Too surreal… His shaking hand engulfed the object.

He raised his arm to chuck the brightly colored trinket through a shattered window. Though, at the peak of his reach, he stopped quite suddenly; his face displaying the same disappointment that Alice’s did. Disappointment brought about by the realization that perhaps he was the one who still had a foot stuck in the past.

Jack cursed under his breath and somberly turned his head towards the now risen sun.