DxC: Being Alone

Being Alone

"I want yo tell you that I'm sorry, That I never told you, When we were face to face."


Another D&C one part story, that I got inspired by a music video (read description after you finish reading, please)


   I should have listened to Courtney. It’s too late to change anything now; I just wish I could go back in time to fix the biggest mistake in my life.

   “Duncan” Courtney sobbed. Her knees were on the floor and her hands were pulling tightly on my legs while tears came racing down the lady’s tanned cheeks, “Please, don’t go to war. I beg you!”

   “I need to get away” I remembered replying coldly and not even looking at my crying girlfriend, “I’m sick of all this and I just need to be away from everyone I know”

   She continued to cry, “We can get away together to somewhere nice, and you don’t have to leave for war tonight”

   “I need to escape everything myself”

   Those were my last words I told her before I picked up my duffle bag, escaped her grip and walked out on the world. Now, I wish my final words to Courtney were “I love you”, because she’s all I ever think about these cold rainy days.

   I actually thought my departure wouldn’t mean anything big. No one told me how much Courtney cried, wine or how severe her case of depression was during the half a year I was away. But there was no way anyone could have told me, even if they wanted to. There’s no way to communicate to friends and family during war but I wish there was so I could have talked to my princess one last time.

   What I didn’t expect, was Courtney’s face when I came back home last week. Instead of happy tears I though Courtney would shed, tears fell from my own eyes when I saw the situation.

   The uptight CIT I fell in love with was no longer there. What was there was her corpse, lying on her side.  Courtney was pale white, had her eyes closed and there was a dried blood stain on her stomach and the kitchen floor around her. Also beside her, was the longest kitchen knife we had, the blade covered in dried blood.

   My feet scurried to the kitchen as fast as they could with my heavy war boots on so I could see the situation up close and attempt to convince myself Courtney wasn’t dead.

   I reached my hand out to her cheek and felt her icy cold skin. Next to her body was her own handwriting, written using her blood.

   “I’m tired of being alone” That’s what it said, and tears came out of my eyes for the first time in years. Courtney’s dead, she committed suicide because I left her.

   “Courtney, no...” I whispered before wiping my hands across my eyes. The girl I loved killed herself, because she couldn’t be with me.

   It’s my fault. If I just listened to her, she’d still be alive today. If I listened to Courtney, I wouldn’t feel the guilt in my gut and the pain in my heart. If I just listened to her, none of this would have ever happened. Courtney probably thought I became sick of her, but that isn’t true. I needed to escape the world and not think about all the struggles everyone around me was going though. It had nothing to do with my girlfriend, because I’ve loved her from the start. I just never told her my true feelings, even during those nights Courtney only spoke in words of love.

   The detective explained to me later that night I came back that Courtney left a couple days before I returned. He told me that if anyone found her earlier and gave her the medical attention she needed, Courtney would have lived.



   Walking to Courtney’s funeral was hard. The rain hasn’t lightened up at all this past week, not even for a second. My oversized black hoodie was being drenched in the rain as I kept my head down and stuffed my hands into my jean pockets, stepping closer to Courtney’s tomb stone with every second.

   I knew I missed the funeral, but that was my plan. I didn’t want to see the others who loved Courtney so sincerely, because I knew they all hated me. I don’t blame them though, not a single tiny bit.

   People dressed in black were walking past me, carrying black umbrellas and some of them visibly crying as I continued to walk to the spot the girl I love is buried.

  “You” I heard someone say angrily and I looked up to see Courtney’s crying mother pointing her finger at me, with her husband and son standing beside her looking at messed up me, “You are the reason Courtney fled away from all of us. You, Duncan, have no right to live!” She screamed at me before she reached out, attempting to hurt me, but was pulled back from the rest of her family that calmed her down after a few moments, “You should be ashamed for what you’ve done to my Courtney”

  I walked right past Courtney’s family silently, not wanting to deal with their shit they have to spit at me, and went to Courtney’s grave. The heavy rain was pelting on the dark grey tomb stone and the many flowers around the engraved stone structure.

   Falling to my knees onto the muddy grass, I read what it wrote on her grave stone several times:

   “Courtney Machala Melbourne
1992 – 2014
A loving girl, loved by many others. Rest in peace, everyone will miss you dearly.”

   “I’m so sorry” I whispered, not even trying to hold back my tears, “I love you, Courtney. I’m sorry”

   The words Courtney’s mother yelled at me repeated in my mind, “You, Duncan, have no right to live!” You’re right, Mrs. Melbourne, I don’t have a right to live anymore, because I lost the reason why I was presented to this planet twenty-two years ago.

   Out of my hoodie pocket, I took out a hand gun I kept from war. I studied it for a few minutes before I spoke again, “Forgive me, Courtney”. Those were my final words, because immediately after I said those three words, I pointed the gun to the side of my head, closed my eyes and took a deep breath and lastly, pulled the trigger.

End