#irwinut

irwinut

“So, do you want me to hire a movie or something?” Michael’s roommate, Dan, asked, his hand gently squeezing the other’s shoulder.

  Michael shook his head from side to side for what was not the first time in the past half an hour.

  “I told you already,” his voice came out stern and frustrated, “it’s Ella and I’s anniversary. I’m taking her on a date. I’m not doing anything with you.”

  The bitterness is Michael’s voice was piercing enough for Dan to acknowledge it was time to stop. Michael was not going to take being pushed any further. And as defeat tore away at Dan’s heart, he found he had no energy or desire to persist with it anymore anyway. He knew that Michael shouldn’t be like this, he knew that he was sick. But he wasn’t sure how to deal with it or help him. So he let him go.

  On his way out, Michael slammed the door shut behind him and allowed for the fresh air to blow the hair from his eyes. A sentiment of freedom overtook him as he escaped the confines of his own house – somewhere that he once felt comfortable, however, in recent days had been feeling trapped and consistently under scrutiny as a result of his roommate’s relentless concerns.

  Walking away from the shaded porch and down the stony path to the driveway, Michael was beyond surprised when he saw Ella, sitting on the bonnet of his chair, seeming to have been waiting patiently for the boy to arrive. Her hair was curled into various waves and ringlets, bouncing slight as she turned her head to notice him. Once her ocean blue eyes met with his, she leapt from the car hood and lightly bounded over to him, her elbows already extending outward in preparation to wrap herself around him.

  The sight of her soft skin almost sparkling in the sun and her grin lifting her cheeks was enough to make Michael feel like the most joyous human in the world. He was hopeful that when her thin legs had carried her over to him, he would be able to feel the smack of their bodies together and the heat of her skin on his. There was nothing he desired more than to have her weight hanging from him as she hugged him, or for her hot breath to prickle into his ear.

  But Michael got none of that. Ella’s body was like a feather, dainty and light. Her skin wasn’t flushed and she felt no warmer than the outside air. And when she spoke his name, it was quiet and the breeze emitted from it was cold onto his cheek. Her hands and arms didn’t squeeze his body, they just brushed around his waist and barely even touched his back. Michael could only return the gentle gesture, realising how delicate his graceful girlfriend was, and not wanting to hurt her.

  After a moment, she turned and strode back to the car, still turning her neck around occasionally to ensure Michael was following her. As he was so intent on watching her beautifully slim figure open the door to his car and slide into the passenger seat, he missed the opportunity to open the door for her, and almost forgot himself to move. Snapping into action, he jogged the few metres, moving to the driver side and jolting his body down into the seat. With a push of the gear stick and a hand on the wheel, the car chugged into action, streaming down the road.

  Ella had bent her knees and curled her feet to hitch underneath her thighs as she got comfortable seated next to him. The angle of her body, entirely facing Michael instead of the window in front of her, permitted her eyes to remain focused completely on his face while he drove. Noticing her constant stare, Michael tore his vision from the road in front of him to catch a glimpse of her. Her expression was so content and relaxed that it could have mesmerised him for hours, but her sitting position made him concerned.

  “Babe, you’re not wearing your seatbelt.”

  Not a muscle was moved from the girl at his statement, and he remained confused. Her little reaction made him assume that she had not heard.

  “Baby, you should put your seatbelt on.”

  At that, she simply blinked. The innocence in her posture stayed.

  “Are you gonna put it on?” he laughed, almost feeling awkward near her serene state.

  Ella’s lips curved into a placid smile, and her head tilted to the left as she replied in a tranquil, low voice, “it’s okay, Michael… I’ll be fine without.”

  If it were a normal day or a different person, he would have become annoyed or angered at her lack of desire to care for her own safety. But today, Ella’s words were like ice, and they cooled him down to a point where his throat was too frozen to speak. Either that, or the legitimate composure in her tone and slow pace of voice made him believe that she would actually be fine without it.

  For the entire ride, her blue pools kept focus on Michael. While the car bumped up and down over ditches and bumps, her body was not even flung out of its spot. Michael was beyond amazed at her beauty and often found himself ogling at her pale skin for too long before she would ever so softly whisper “Michael,” and then slant her head subtly to the dashboard, reminding him that he needed to look where he was driving.

  As Michael pulled up near a restaurant, Ella’s hand raised from where it was to brush over his arm, “Michael… let’s go somewhere more private, Michael.”

  His head turned to look at her, thinking she must have seen the restaurant and realised she didn’t like it there. But her eyes were, still, planted on him. She had not yet taken her glance away.

  “Uh-“ he stuttered, “sure. W-where do you want to go, love?”

  She smiled faintly before timidly saying, “just keep driving down this road, Michael.”

  Yet she had not even looked to see where the car was parked, Michael believed that she knew where they were going. She was perfect. He trusted her completely.

  It was not even ten minutes until his eyes were graced with a stunning view of the beach. Before the engine had even turned off, Ella had somehow galloped away from the car, making not a single noise as she did so. The view of her dress blowing smoothly in the wind as she wandered out and away from the car, heading towards the sand by the shore, was enough to make Michael feel at ease. As she elegantly raised her arms out to her sides and let the sea air slip in-between her fingers and over her limbs, Michael could only watch and admire her radiating splendour.

  And for the continuation of the night, her supple, sophisticatedly aura persisted in being quite stunning.

  On the direction home, Ella was cooped back up into her huddle on the passenger side when Michael asked, “would you like to get something to eat?”

  Just as she had before, she smiled and cooed, “no, Michael… I’ll be okay.”

    Michael and Ella saw each other every day. She wasn’t the same as she used to be, though. Something must have changed because of their anniversary. She didn’t speak much or want to do much anymore. It felt like something was deficient between them. Their relationship used to be a tidal wave of emotions and events, but somewhere along the line, it had simmered down from the boil. It was still wonderful, and Michael would never be able to deny her beauty and reeking exquisiteness. But something inside of him practically longed for her to trip over on the pavement so that he could scoop her up and feel obligated to hold her until she calmed down from the shock. He wanted her to scrape her knee so that her cheeks bloomed bright red, and then he wanted her to cry so that he could feel the burn of her hot tears through his shirt. He ached for her to be angry because he gave her the burnt toast, and he yearned for her sting when she would angrily slap him on the bicep after it.

  Yet, those things didn’t happen anymore. And Michael didn’t really know why, and didn’t deliberate on it too much because he knew that he was the luckiest person ever to be with such a picturesque girl.

  Michael also didn’t really know what had ignited the worry in Dan’s eyes every morning, afternoon and night. Dan always seem to always ask questions which would infuriate Michael. 

  “Mate, you know this isn’t good for you, right?”

“Michael, do you want me to get you some help? “You gotta leave her now, man.”

  Dan must have known that there had been a change in the relationship for him to be saying things like so. But Michael didn’t know how he knew. And frankly, he wanted him to butt out of what wasn’t his business.

  At nights, Michael found it difficult to sleep until Ella came over. It was normally around midnight when she appeared beside his mattress, her eyes wide open and staring into his like she did not even need to rest. Often, the moonlight peeked through his blind and reflected off his mirror and then onto her face so he could see how perfectly pure she looked even in the night-time. Because he never saw her wander through the door, he suggested that she must have done it so carefully and quietly that in his dreary state he didn’t hear.

  Months ago, Ella would have knocked her knee into his bedside table and accidentally let the air conditioner push the door noisily into the frame. Then, she would have snorted before crawling under the blankets and nuzzling her nose as far as she could into her chest, mumbling, “I couldn’t sleep, so I came over.”

  Now, she stayed outside of the covers and used her fingers to comb through the hair on Michael’s forehead. She didn’t mention why she was there, she just was. More often than not, a blue singlet and blue skirt would cover her body, but it dawned on Michael one chillier night that she must have been cold, and especially because she was not wearing shoes.

  “Aren’t you cold, honey?” he queried, mustering through the sleepiness in his voice, “you’re not even wearing something to cover your feet. In fact, you haven’t been wearing shoes at all lately.”

  Her reply took a few moments and elicited like a hum, “I’m fine Michael… don’t worry.”

    One day when he woke up, it was because of Dan shaking him from the side of the bed. In his hands, he held an ironed shirt and pants. “You gotta put these on,” Dan shakily and cautiously begun, “today is the day.”

  Despite being fully unaware of what ‘day’ his friend was referring to, Michael felt the need to rub his eyes and get out of bed, replacing his night wear with the outfit Dan had presented and left on his quilt. When Michael went into the living room, it was clear that the fright in Dan’s eyes had exacerbated from previous days. He was in a state of madness. Around his eyes were red lines of exhaustion and sadness, and with his shaking fingers, he frantically tried to push out a crease in his black shirt.

  Interesting – both cloaked in black shirts today. And black pants as well, for that matter. A hand ran before Dan’s hair stressfully before he looked up at Michael and almost immediately looked away, his eyes making contact with the floor. 

  Perplexed with Dan’s condition, Michael decided not to disagree with whatever the other male wanted today. When he left out the front door, breathing heavily, he just followed, and when he stepped into his car, Michael, again, followed. When Dan whimpered while pressing down on the accelerator, however, Michael did not know what to do. Michael didn’t know what to do about the small tears that dripped down Dan’s face whilst driving, either.

  As much as he wanted to ask if he was alright, something gripping at his stomach made him feel it wasn’t appropriate. How could he begin to support his friend when he did not understand what the reason behind the misery was. The choked breaths of Dan and the repeating action of him wiping his ears free of tears made the car trip awkward.

  When they arrived at the location, the first thing visible was the mass of familiar faces outside and surrounding the brick building. Michael saw his mother, his father, old friends, a variety of people he knew. Before he could realise he was speaking, words spilled from his mouth, “is Ella going to be here?”

  After a long sigh, Dan turned his head to face Michael. Putting his hand over the centre console and placing it onto Michael’s knee, he tried to speak through a blockage of pain that had settled in his throat, “yeah man.” His voice cracked and he whimpered, “she’s here, she’s gonna be here.”

  Upon stepping out the car, the swarm of people instantaneously attached themselves to Michael. If they were bees, he was the hive, but they wanted answers from him instead of honey. They placed their hands on Michael’s arm and shoulders, rubbing his muscles tenderly. “Are you alright?” “How’ve you been?” “Have you been coping?” “We are all here for you today.”

  Michael didn’t want their touch, he wanted someone else’s. And thankfully, he looked up at the correct time, peering over the various heads just at the right moment, to notice the perfectly curled hair swish around the corner of the building. A cheeky, inviting grin played on her lips and made a dimple in both of her cheeks. Pushing through the sea of people, Michael swam away, dashing over to where he had seen the glimpse of her.

  As soon as he turned the corner, he saw her, standing not only motionless, but also emotionless. Her arms hung peacefully by her side, and her hair had been brought around to fall down her chest. In a knee-length, white, flowing dress, it was possible to see her bare feet and how the grass underneath her slotted between her toes. Normally, Ella giggled when grass touched her skin, but today it didn’t seem to tickle her at all.

  A moment of silence passed while Michael gaped at her, and then Ella spoke up, her words sweet and tunely like a song, “I’ll see you inside, Michael…”

  And then she was gone, swung around the corner of the building and headed inside.

  “Everyone’s going in now,” Dan coughed, causing Michael to turn around. With a casual arm around his shoulders, he directed Michael into the structure, which appeared to be one open room inside. There were chairs, all lined up into neat rows, and black flowers situated on the back of each one. People watched intently with raw, tired eyes whilst Michael walked down the isle in the middle of the room.

  At the front, only a metre from where a stage was positioned, was an empty seat with a white piece of paper reading ‘Reserved: Michael Clifford.’  Usually at events, he sat with Ella, and he would make jokes about what was occurring on stage, and she would dig her head into his arm to muffle her laugh. However, this seemed different, as when he scanned the crowd to find her gorgeous face, he couldn’t find it. And this did not look like a place where people would even smile for a second; majority of the eyes in the room were wet, and sniffs echoed from the walls.

  “We are here today,” a booming voice pounded through speakers, “to remember.”

  Hastily, Michael seated himself and turned to watch the old man, wearing a professional suit and tie, speak to the audience. But Michael was distracted by the surrounds beside and behind him, and struggled to listen. The scent of the room was stale. No windows could be seen. And if there were any windows, they were shunned from view by large grey vases containing combustions of flowers.

  “..michael Clifford.”

  His name auditing from the speaker’s mouth induced him to draw his attention back to the speech taking place. But a significant eeriness seeped through the rows of the chairs and filled up the room.

  “Sorry,” the man rushed, quickly reiterating his prior words that were clearly not heard by the one person who was meant to hear, “we have Michael Clifford to give a few words.”

  An elbow nudging into his side made him rise from his chair, and then the stares of the hundred or more humans pushed his frame up to the podium. Upon reaching front and centre, Michael swivelled his body to face the crowd. Everybody seemed to be in a drained state of discontent. Most of the people had frowns, others had pouts, and some were breathing deeply while glaring at the carpeted ground.  

  Michael was unsure of what to do or say in front of them, but majority of the faces seemed un-pressuring, and although quite sad, they were relaxed and did not seem expectant of him to deliver anything uplifting and marvellous. After some time, worry gripped at Michael’s emotions, as he was bewildered with what was happening.

  Fortunately, a cool air sent a chill splintering up his spine, and a soft voice purred into his ear, “read this, Michael.”

  A small hand dropped a piece of paper onto the stand in front of him, the letters on the page being linked and refined. Ella’s lithe figure then passed by the side of the boy, dancing off the stage and planting itself onto the seat where Michael had perched previously.

  With her teeth slightly showing, she affirmed, “it’s okay… Read it… Michael.”

   Grimacing, Michael concentrated on the words in front of him, clearing his throat before beginning, “My name is Michael Clifford, and I was Ella’s boyfriend.”

  Halting at the end of this sentence, he darted his eyes back to where Ella was, wondering if this were correct. ‘Was’ Ella’s boyfriend did not seem the correct tense. But she had not moved even minutely, and her pleasant poise hinted for Michael to persist.

  “Three years ago, we met for the first time at a friend’s party. I instantly fell in love. How couldn’t I? She was gorgeous. And, thankfully for me, I gathered up the courage to ask her out on a date. From then, my life was perfect. I had found the one person that understood me, could relate with me, and just overall the one person that I could see myself spending the rest of my life with. Ella and I often joked about things, and one of those things was what we read in an article one day. ‘3 years equals forever’ it said. Apparently, according to the author, once you had been in a relationship with someone for three years, you will end up marrying them. Unfortunately, three days before our third anniversary, Ella p- pass- passed away.”

  Michael took a number of deep, wheezy breaths before continuing, “The event was unexpected, and I cannot say that I have yet recovered. I still see E-Ella, be-beside me when I go, when I go to sleep. And w-when I leave the house. She still has d-dinner with me. And s-she’s still my only source of comfort when I am upset. But Ella doesn’t really sleep with me anymore. She doesn’t kiss me when she sees me, or eat with me at dinner, or embrace me when I’m upset... Because Ella is not really there. Despite how much I want her to be.”

  By then, Michael had tears streaming like waterfalls down his rough cheeks. What he was saying was barely understandable, as the words were being spat through clumps of saliva and liquid in his mouth and throat. Two small rips had formed on either side of the paper where he had been accidentally clutching too hard with trembling hands.

  When he gazed up, he anticipated for the whole audience to still be there. And they actually were. But all Michael could recognise was Ella and her shimmering self, looking back at him. That was the only light in the entire room. Moans from other mourners were blocked, as all he heard was her sweet murmur, “keep going… Michael, keep going… you can do it.”

  Through blurry vision and with heated sweat beginning to clam his skin through his pores, Michael gulped and begun speaking again, “I guess that what Ella and I had will not be forever, like the author of the article said. I will see her again. One day. But now is a time for me to let go. It’s time. To say good-bye to the person who changed my life. T-thank you for being with me, Ella. I-I-I lov-love you, Ella.”

  One blink and Ella had made it onto the stage, her body on the left of Michael’s. In a swift movement, she pointed up onto her tiptoes and skimmed her lips across his cheek.

  “I love you too, Michael… Good luck,” she whirred, “I’ll see you again soon.”

I’m moving at the beginning of next year & I’m going to be deleting my blog. It’ll either be then or on my birthday which is in April.

I just feel like I’m growing out of the whole band-blogging thing & I really have to focus on my life since it’s literally half a year till I’m 19 and my parents remind me everyday that life is passing me by and I haven’t made a step towards a career. I’ve been out of school for a year & I just sit around blogging all the time.

I might give the blog away or just delete it, depending on my follower count when the time comes.