John

Sarah stands outside the bedroom door, her shadow cast over the sign saying John's room, with her blonde hair tied back, her left hand clenched up against her chest breathing heavily, her eyes reddened as she reaches out her right hand, nervously shaking pressing against the wooden panel. The door which was slightly ajar now swings slowly open, almost wanting to stop herself from entering, Sarah reluctantly takes a step forward looking in, to the left a neatly made bed is pushed against the wall, a desk directly ahead, a stool perched in front. Light shines in from the right as the window becomes visible beyond the opening door, the door stops tapping against the wardrobe that stands beside the window.
With one foot after another Sarah walks across the room, breathing in through her nose, desperately hoping the smell of her son was still in the room. Reaching down with both hands Sarah pulls the stool further out from the desk. She glances up at the walls that surround her, photos of John, his blonde hair wavy like his mothers, from just a little boy to the young man he became. Surrounded by his friends and the brother he loved so very much, Charlie was looking up at John in all the photos, shorter in their two years difference. Looking at them momentarily put a smile on Sarah's face, the memories of watching her boys grow up, still smelling the room, the smell of John's raw essence aftershave mixed with fresh linen from the newly made bed.
Glancing down at the desk Sarah's eyes are caught by a small envelope with ‘mum’ written on the front, with a sudden pinch in her stomach, Sarah knows it was from John because of his scribble he once said was just perfect handwriting in the making, she reaches out, the light still shining into the room, as her fingers slide between the flap and seal, slightly tearing the envelope open, already she can hear John's voice in his pleasant yet deep welcoming tone, allowing her eyes to flow across the words unable to read it out loud, just allowing her memory of John's voice read it to her, feeling as if she were there as he inked it.
With his pen gliding slowly across the paper, sat at his desk, his woolly hat pulled loosely around his head, the darkness in his eyes, his once rosy cheeks sullen and white, reading his words to himself.
'Mum please listen to this tape.' John says reading off the page before him as he presses the record button.... 'I'm so sorry for everything I have put you through.' he says taking a deep breath of air, the tape still rolling. 'I just want you to know, that I was and still am so happy to have you in my life, I know this whole recording a tape thing is a bit stupid but Dr Kelso said it might help us both. I feel so silly sitting here right now recording this for you, I guess, what I need to say is I'm ready now mum.' he stops and looks down at the letter, his cheeks lower, he truly believes it himself. 'I want to tell you I love you mum, you, dad and Charlie, I hope he listens to this too, you have been the best brother I could have ever wished for, and I don't think I told you guys enough how I feel.' continues John rubbing his nose looking at the tape turning in the deck. 'The cancer may have beaten me mum but I don't want it to beat you too, you have worried day after day for me but stayed strong, I know you will never let go of me, I don't want that, but I want you to move on knowing I'm not suffering any more, we did everything we could, you did everything you could for me and I couldn't be any prouder to call you my mum, you can relax, the worrying can stop now, I'm pretty sure you're crying right now so stop; rub your salt water eyes and smile because I'm free now.' John stops, he looks over his shoulder to the window. 'It sounds like you guys are pulling up on the drive, well I think so anyway, remember mum, don't let it beat you, I love you all.' adds John now reaching for the stop button.
Sarah sits back taking her hand from the stop button, with the back of her hand she does as she is told and wipes her salt watery eyes, breathing slow, yet strong, not only for John or herself but the family she still has. The photo's that surround the room will always be there to remind her, to stop her from forgetting the good times. Raising her left hand she pushes a stray hair back behind her ear. Sarah takes in a deep breath of air once again, the smell invigorating her senses. With a small shudder in her stomach she turns to look at the doorway, somewhat startled by the knocking, she smiles at Charlie standing tall, now sixteen and becoming the young man his brother was, gentle and rewarding in his nature to others, with a half smile he looks over at his mum, taking his hand off the door he walks over to the bed, lowering himself down slowly not wanting to mess it up, he looks disheartened because something is missing from his life as he gently strokes the bed covers. He looks up at the unlit light, the room slightly darker than normal for only the sunlight shines into the room, in his heart he knows this room will never be what it once was.
Charlie sits quietly, his head down, his breathing calm, soaking up the surroundings, he looks up, his eyes wide open, the room suddenly lit up as Charlie watches John waltz into the room, they smile at one another.
'So you were going to tell me about last night.' says John pulling open his wardrobe door, he reaches inside taking a top off a hanger, turning to look back at Charlie sitting on the bed, still neatly made, the floor still tidy.
'But I promised Claire I wouldn't say anything to anyone.' replies Charlie, his cheeks going a pale shade of red.
'Yeah but I'm different, you tell me everything and she knows that.' says John placing one item of clothing after another into a duffel bag.
'Look we kissed that's all, now that's it, we aren't talking about it.' said Charlie now more red faced laughing at John raising his eyebrows. 'Mum would kill me if she even knew that.' he continued while shaking his head, lifting his hands to cover his embarrassment.
'You're nearly fifteen Charlie, mum won't say a thing but I'd stay away from Claire's dad.' said John joining his brother in laughter.
'Stop it John I'm freaked out as it is.' said Charlie picking up a music magazine from off the bed. 'I wish I was coming with you this weekend.' he continued while peering over the magazine at the duffel bag.
'Well little brother next time if you're old enough you can come to the festival too, this weekend is going to be epic.' said John as he holds his thumbs up at Charlie.
'You'll be gone off to Uni by the time I'm old enough to go with you.' he replied.
'And we agreed remember, you can come visit me whenever you want, plus I'll be back all the time, I couldn't stay away from you guys too long.' he said while wriggling beside Charlie on the bed.
Charlie looks at him and smiles nodding agreeably, he turns to look back at the door, the smile no longer on his face, the light once again off, taking his hand from the bed to his own lap Charlie looks to his side but John isn't there, his eyes reddened, slightly watery looking over at his mum who was still sat on the stool.
'I miss him mum, I miss him so much, I know John wouldn't want us here like this but I miss him all the time, he was my big brother.' said Charlie closing his eyes to stop his tears.
'You're not alone, I miss him too, we will always miss him but we will always have him with us, John didn't leave us, he didn't abandon us, he's all around in our memories.'
'I know mum, I feel it every time I come in here.'
'He left us a letter, something to remember him by, listen to the tape, he hoped you would, to know what he was thinking, what he wanted to say.' says Sarah placing her hand onto his shoulder before walking out the door.
Charlie looks at the tape player, at the photo's beyond putting a little colour in his cheeks.

If

I sit quietly holding Laura's hand, she lays motionless in the hospital bed, the lights in the room slightly dimmed, a tear rolling down the left side of my nose. Shaking momentarily to stop myself from bursting into floods of tears, I look at Laura knowing it didn't have to be like this, I close my eyes and all I can see is what happened over and over again.
With both my hands on the steering wheel I'm looking out into the quiet road, the traffic was calm, we had been out for a picnic, the sun was shining down on the windscreen but not too bright for my eyes. Laura excitedly said “James it's our wedding song” as Bryan Adams' Everything I do started to play on the radio, like I do every time, I just smiled back knowing Laura looked on at our marriage with fondness; I know Laura wasn’t the best of singers but I loved to listen to her. I kept my eyes on the road yet there seemed to be no one about. I pulled up at Hawkesbury Junction, the quiet end of town where the tall trees shade the road, I looked each way and pulled my car out, I settled into gear and drifted along, taking my eyes off the road for only a few split seconds I looked down at Laura's hand gently resting on mine, I felt that urge of great happiness that could last forever.
I took in a deep breath of air as Laura's fingers clenched around my hand, looking up ahead, it was too late, there was nothing I could do, but still I spun the wheel to my right, but we hit the car ahead. I could see the sky as our car dived up, Laura was screaming, both our air bags immediately thrust against us. It seemed like only seconds as the air bags deflated, now upside down our car crushed against the road, the glass shattered in our faces, Laura was quiet as we skidded to the side, stopping suddenly, the shooting pain in my neck was the worst I had ever felt. I looked at Laura and slowly my eyes closed.
My eyes opened, no longer concealed in the car, I sit beside Laura's bed, doctors and nurses coming in and out, I look back and forth waiting for answers but none stop to talk. What if? It's too late for that, the woman I love lays here now hurt because of me, I feel a chill in the room but her eyes flutter, my heart beats rapidly as I stand, I want to hold Laura but I know she needs help, I shout for the nurse and the door swings open as the nurse enters. Now wide eyed Laura asks, “Where is my husband?” and at that moment I knew I was dead.

Laura

Barely looking her twenty four years at just five foot six, Laura's blonde shoulder length hair flows whisk fully in the cool breeze as she steps outside her door, always wearing that gentle smile upon her face; seemingly unafraid looking back into the house at the boxes sitting one on top of the other.
Every morning Laura would stand outside her blue front door checking herself, yes she was wearing her neatly ironed black trousers, the green blouse just visible beneath her black jacket, pressing on the left side of her chest to feel the name badge beneath. Laura would always look ahead at the same people who passed everyday, the polite smile and nod she would give them, knowing it means a lot to some, Laura would greet them a “good morning” before continuing her journey. For days the feeling in the pit of her stomach was telling her she would miss that street, that town, those people. Glancing over her shoulder at the sold sign attached to her house, Laura's eyes were filled with loss yet her smile said otherwise.
Merely five minutes walk down the street Laura would stop and inhale a deep breath of air knowing that she had arrived at work, her local superstore, a place she had spent many years. Reaching the side of the building Laura would look at her watch, “just checking the time” she would say to herself knowing she was nine minutes early, in the eight years she had worked there not once had she been late. Laura would stop at the colleague entrance, swiping her card across the alarm it would open at her request, still knowing work begins the smile would not fade. Swiping her card once again on another machine inside the corridor her eyes would be fixed on the small display that would read “Laura Ashworth – shift start.”
Laura would always find her time sitting at the checkout relaxing, from the times Mrs Alan, the little old lady with the walking frame who would walk further to her till, to the young families that grew up around her; friends she never knew she had. Often one of Laura's customers would ask “If she ever felt let down by her achievements, does she not want more from life?” usually Laura would smile and tell them she couldn't want for more than the people around her, if Laura minded the question she never let it show, yet on this day nothing could stop Laura smiling.
Everyone could see it in Laura's eyes, she was not happy but not sad, somewhere in the middle, the signs on the walls that read “Good Luck Laura” meant everyone knew that the young bubbly girl they had grown to love was leaving, this was Laura's last day, a new direction was going to start, her future in the making.

The Butterfly

'Mrs Riley, we're officers Lane and Cubric.' said the police officer holding up his badge at the door. 'May we come in and talk to Joey about the incident today?' continued officer Lane.
'Yes of course, please come in.' answered Mrs Riley. 'You know about my sons....'
'Eidetic memory.' interrupted officer Lane.
'Yes, Joey is just through here.' said Mrs Riley pointing left towards the lounge.
'Hello Joey, I'm officer Lane, I would like it if you could tell me about what happened in O'Connor street today.'
I turned to look at the officers and smiled, I closed my eyes to remember. The butterflies were floating by me, I liked the purple and yellow one, they were flying in the sun. My mum was by the red box when a lady walked past, I watched it fly by her pink t-shirt, I wanted to follow it but my mum would have been mad. There was a nice lady sat across the road, she had two little brown dogs by her feet, I always wanted a dog. People were walking past all the time, I could see the toy store behind the lady with the dogs, mum said I could have a toy today. A shiny silver car beeped his horn, it was fun, it made me jump, I giggled a bit too.
My mum called me back to the red box, she put her pen in the pocket on the side of her bag and pushed the white paper into the red box. I could see it again, the butterfly was back, I think it liked me, my mum put her hand on my shoulder and we walked to the road, a blue car stopped in front of us but I could still see the toy shop where the lady was still sitting with her dogs. I looked down at my feet, I was wearing my favourite blue trainers the same as the car.
I jumped a little because there was a big bang, people were shouting, I looked up but the car was gone, the nice lady was lying on the bench, I did not know why but I smiled because the little brown dog started to run towards me. I reached for her but a nasty man pushed it away and walked past me, I watched him walk away with his hood up like my mum don't like, I remember he had a tick on his trainers too but his were white not blue, he looked back at me very angry because of the thing he was trying to hide in his sleeve, I did not see it but it was shiny like the silver car. I looked back at the dog, she looked sad but I was happy because the butterfly was back, it sat on my arm and was not scared of me.

The Inner Conflicts of Jamie Moore

With a smile upon his face a young man in his early twenty’s stands almost motionless looking into the mirror, looking at his own reflection, his cheeks are slightly raised with a shine upon his clean smooth skin, his neat light brown hair spiked up, dressed in a cool blue shirt and tie finished with a pair of black pressed trousers. Jamie rests his hands against the mirror frame, his eyes twitching looking into the mirror unfazed by how different his reflection looks, his hair longer, unwashed and messy, wearing clothes of a different colour. The reflection looks back wearing dark brown jeans with a green t-shirt slightly tucked in, his skin has no sign of shine past the roughness of his appearance. Jamie’s eyes roll over the mirror looking further in the distance at a young man sitting in the corner, the young man looks down at a clipboard in his left hand with a pen firmly propped in his right gliding on the paper. The young man sits quietly in the corner smartly dressed wearing a pressed suit, he looks up glancing over, Jamie turns his head away from the mirror looking directly into his eyes across the room, the feeling of nervousness comes across him, weary of the young man sat in the corner looking over for he also has his face, Jamie takes his right hand away from the mirror gently twitching as it rests upon his lip nervously muttering to himself.
‘You look like me but you’re not me.’ said Jamie as a tear builds up on his lower eye lid, he blinks holding tight for a moment. The tear rolling down his smooth cheek, Jamie opens his eyes causing the tear to drip in a motion of pure bliss as it splashes onto the wooden floor beside him. ‘What do you want with me? Why are you always there? Please just leave me alone.’ continued Jamie, his head arched down looking at the mantle above the fire, his lower lip wobbling desperately hoping he is alone the moment he looks up but still with the feeling in the pit of his stomach that he needs answers, he wants to know the truth about his life, about the people who share his face.
Jamie looks up at the mirror, he takes a deep gasp of air looking his reflection in the eyes, he slowly begins to shake his head in disapproval of his reflection wishing he wasn’t there. Jamie lowers his hands down by his sides, his reflection begins to shake raising his own hands up to his head, his fingers pushing between his messy hair staring back at Jamie with an evil glee upon his face, suddenly the reflection shakes his head from side to side, his eyes still watching Jamie, he stops shaking and pulls his fingers from within his hair gritting his teeth over his bottom lip. Jamie wearily watches him, in a daring glance, not wanting to look away he keeps his eyes firmly locked on those of his reflection. The man in the mirror thrusts his head forward smacking his brow off the reverse of the glass, the mirror cracks in a circle pattern around his head, he pulls back and looks forward through the cracks, Jamie takes a step forward, he reaches up pressing his fingers lightly on the mirror feeling beneath his skin smooth untainted glass, he gives a conniving smile at his reflection knowing he did not break it. Jamie takes a step back still looking him in his eyes, between them the cracks in the glass begin to fade away, unreal as if it was just in his imagination the mirror becomes clear. The reflection thrusts his head against the glass again, it cracks on the reverse leaving a circle of lines once again, the reflection repeatedly smashes against the glass but with each blow the glass repairs itself ready for the next hit.
Jamie looks away bowing his head down past his shoulder, he looks across the room, fixing his eyes on the white front door, taking one step after another he walks over. His hand reaches out trying to grasp hold of the handle, he drops to his knees for his hand did not take hold, the handle is no longer there, he looks up at the small porthole window in the door, his lower lip beginning to wobble in fear of the room behind him unable to escape. Jamie pushes himself to his feet, pressing against the door he looks into the window but there is nothing more than a white light. Turning away from the door Jamie looks across the room, opposite him swing doors like those you would see in an old western bar separate two rooms. Jamie walks over passing the mirror avoiding his reflection, he stands by the swing doors, his feet visible below, his head just barely over the top. He looks over into the room, from the corner of his eye Jamie noticed the smart man sitting in the corner place his pen down onto his clip board and look up at him. he ignores him and continues to look into the room, grey kitchen cupboards surround the room, clean sides empty from everyday items with no sign of anyone using the room, a shudder runs down Jamie’s back, he looks into the centre of the kitchen, another young man with his face sits at a table, strange and scary looking wearing a white t-shirt, his left hand stretched out on the wooden table, Jamie’s eyes continue to watch widening eager to have all in his sight. The young man grins looking down at his hand, blood stains from his own injured hand splashed down his t-shirt. A sparkle of light reflects from his right hand, glistening from the blade of the sharp knife grasped between his fingers, up and down in a quick motion the knife pierces the table over and over between his fingers. The strange young man basks in the delight of hitting the table unaware of the pain in his fingers, the pain from the gashes in his flesh, Jamie looks on in horror, he lifts his arm over the swing door stretching around the corner reaching with all his power for the switch on the wall, his fingers move lightly over the switch, his elbow catching the top of the door causes a creaking sound to echo across the kitchen. The strange man looks over, his eyes wide open grinning at Jamie; he begins to laugh to himself under his own breath, not a normal laugh but a sound that would send a chill down anyone’s spine. Jamie presses on the switch turning the light off, darkness fills the room as Jamie quickly pulls his arm out. The swing doors begin to swing back and forth slightly knocking each other leaving a tapping noise. Jamie runs across the room, passing the mirror once again but this time there is no reflection of Jamie, just an image of the room, he runs to the door, raising his arms up ready to bang the window but he stops himself, he looks at the door and still there is no handle, he can’t open the door, he fears turning around believing he isn’t safe there.
A sniggering voice from behind startles Jamie, he looks around instantly unable to stop himself from checking, watching the swing doors finally stop swinging. Wondering where the sniggering was coming from his eyes move to and fro about the room nervously twitching, his fingers finding their way to his mouth, uncontrollably nibbling his nails in fear of knowing he isn’t alone. Jamie looks over at the man in the corner smiling at him; the man picks up his pen and begins to write on the paper watching Jamie’s every move. Jamie takes his hand away from his mouth and takes a step towards the mirror; he takes a glance at the reflection now looking back. Taking a deep breath of air Jamie steps even closer to the mirror.
‘Come closer.’ muttered the reflection in the mirror smirking at Jamie.
At first Jamie hesitates, the room in the mirror darker than the one Jamie stands in, still wanting answers Jamie steps closer to the mirror again, the reflection smiles, his lip raised to one side showing his top teeth.
‘Come closer Jamie.’ said the reflection creepily glaring at him.
‘No! Say what you have to say.’ replied Jamie.
The man in the mirror glares for a second; his eyes opening wider, his smile now grim, his cheeks raised angrily holding still. Jamie takes his eyes off the mirror; he looks down at a card on the mantle.
‘Look at me!’ shouted the reflection angrily thumping his fist against the glass.
Jamie jumps his heart pounding as he looks up at the reflection, the small cracks in the glass fading away. Jamie looks at his hand surprised and confused to see blood on his knuckles.
‘Let me out of here!’ demands the reflection gritting his teeth wiping his fist from the blood identical to Jamie’s across his top.
Jamie nervously takes his eyes off his reflection looking back down at the card; he reaches out taking hold of it. His reflection continues to thump the glass, blood now trickling from Jamie’s hand. Jamie lifts the card closer to his face, the words now visible. “Appointment card, 11am, Dr Leary, St Osmond’s mental institute, room 263” Jamie’s breathing begins to rapidly speed up, he looks back and forth between the card and his reflection.
‘What is this?’ asked Jamie holding out the card for his reflection to see.
‘Let me out of here!’ demanded the reflection once again.
‘You tell me what this is right now.’ replied Jamie almost pressing the card against the glass.
The reflection in the mirror sniggers getting louder and louder, he looks down at his hand, opening his fist he reveals the appointment card. A look of horror on Jamie’s face, he looks down at his own hand, he squeezes his fist tightly crushing the card between his fingers. Tears begin to drip from Jamie’s cheeks, he looks back at the mirror, almost unable to see his reflection the mirror is shattered, circles of cracks cover the glass with blood stains from his own knuckles, Jamie shakes his head mouthing to himself.
‘No No No No No.’ slowly getting quieter.
Jamie turns to look behind him, the smart man sitting in the corner looks up at Jamie, he smiles pleasantly and places his pen down.
‘Everything is going to be ok.’ said the man continuing to look at Jamie.
Jamie turns quickly looking towards the kitchen, the light beaming into the room, a shadow cast from behind the swing doors. The man from the kitchen leans against the door frame, the shiny knife hanging from his hand, blood trickling off the blade. He looks at Jamie and smirks.
‘There’s no way out from here, you will never leave us Jamie, you can’t stop us.’ said the man as he turns and walks off into the kitchen.
Jamie raises his hand to his mouth not wanting to cry anymore and looks at the man sitting in the corner.
‘Please help me.’ said Jamie.
The man stands up from his chair, he smiles at Jamie.
‘Everything will be ok now Jamie.’ said the man.
Jamie looks around the room, the walls turn to white, the door becomes grey and cold. The room becomes empty, no windows, no mirror, Jamie looks down, he is no longer wearing his smart clothes, dressed in a cream straight jacket he looks up at the man, tears rolling down his cheeks, the man elderly looking wearing a name tag “Dr Leary” walks over to the door and knocks on the glass still clutching his clipboard. A face appears behind the glass and the door becomes unlocked.

Winterland

May your winterland
be full of glowing snow
that this xmas day
be as happy as you’d know.

Beauty In Your Eye's

to my surprise
I open my eyes
with that tingling feeling
I understand the meaning
when I look at you
my heart shudders through
for then I know
on my arm you’ll show
with the beat of my heart
that you are apart
of what is new
just me and you
because when I look in your eyes
all I see is the beauty inside.