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Loss and Change - first chapter
Shastasnow | Published 391 days ago


The world spins around me as I lay on my bed looking at a handcrafted urn in my arms. I bring it close to me and I hug it carefully and lovingly. Tears have blinded me but I know what the urn looks like down to the detailed letters. I don’t know how long it has been since I have risen from the safety of my bed, but I don’t plan to get up anytime soon.

The love of my life is gone and I gravely miss my lover’s touch. My life is crumbling slowly but references of the past litter the rooms and I cannot bear to look at the evidence or where my love has been. My body shakes defiantly as I attempt to ply myself away from the bed and the urn. Everything is stiff and painful. My chest feels empty and heavy at the same time. Slowly I roll my wheelchair to the bath. I just sit there with the water flowing down the drain. Unable to undress and to move, I sit in the small pool of cold water. I let the water drown my face and tear-soaked hair. Slowly I proceed to clean myself but everything feels foggy and painful. My injuries have yet to heal and the scars are a forever reminder of the accident. It was no one’s fault; really there is no one to blame for what happened, just truly unfortunate and devastating.

The world continues on and I must do the same even with my new disabilities. Gradually I make my way back to work and make up for what I missed out on. My boss was kind enough to give me grieving time but honestly, I could use more time but the bills will not pay themselves. Work is fairly fast-paced unfortunately and my body struggles to move and keep up. Lifting as I am sitting and trying to stay cheerful is challenging.

“Hello, Charlotte. You are looking much better today. How are you?

I look over to Oliver with a dull look. How am I to respond to this? Honestly, I don’t look that appealing and I definitely don´t look any better. I actually looked worse. Probably looking like a train ran over me. Well, I should answer the best I can, without overthinking.

“Thank you. I am fine.” Oliver nods and hums. “Guess I should be polite and ask how you are.” Oliver laughs and nods his head sternly; his hat almost falls off when he does so.

“I am doing well. My life must be no complaint in comparison to yours. I really am sorry for your loss. The last person that died in my life was my cat and that was not a person.” Oliver laughs a nervous laugh and it makes me give him a pity smile.

“There is no need to compare. Now, what happened that made your life sour, other than the death of your cat?

“Well, my apartment flooded and the whole place smells like fish now. It really is unfortunate.” I give him a pout. It does sound like he had a rough weekend. “How much was damaged? That was a nice apartment.

“Quite a bit actually. Many of my antique furniture got damaged rendering them worthless. It is really a shame too because I was about to sell it all to a well-paying buyer.

“Sounds rough Oliver. If you need help cleaning up just give me a call.” He smiles and compliments how sweet I am then he makes his way back to his office. With a weary sigh, I make my way back to work. When I finish I feel low and sluggish again. I decide to skip on dinner once again and crawl into bed. My eyes fixate on the urn and I quickly wrap my arms around it. Then I hear the ring of my phone. I slowly make my way to it and answer it.

“Hello, This is Charlotte".

“Hi, Charlotte. It is Oliver. I was wondering if you could help me with my apartment. Don’t worry it is nothing too crazy. Just need some help tossing this furniture?

I pull away from the phone and sigh. Then I return. “Okay, I will be right over.

“Thank you, so much.

I hang up the phone and I make my way to Oliver’s apartment. He was right about the fish smell. I pinch my nose when he opens the door. It takes about an hour to get all the furniture out and it is really a heavy loss, money wise. “Well, Thank you so much. Be careful getting home. See you tomorrow.” I nod and we say our goodbyes and I hurry back home to the comfort of my bed.

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