Andrew Morgan - Broken Promises
Aug 22, 2021 19:17:09 GMT -5
Roy "The Sorrow" Harlowe (NJC), BrainScratch, and 4 more like this
Post by Union Jack on Aug 22, 2021 19:17:09 GMT -5
With the sun nearing it's pinnacle, Andrew Morgan crested the hill and caught sight of Charlie right where he knew he would be, laying under that old Oak with Rebecca. The old dog lay perfectly still on the sun dappled grass.
Morgan smiled despite the immense pain he felt just from being here and as he drew closer, he heard Charlie's quiet whimpering. As always, he and his companion were perfectly in tune emotionally speaking.
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He heard the car pull into the drive and jumped up from the bed where he had been laying sleeplessly for several hours. A quick glance at the clock radio on the bedside table told him it was 3:33 am. They had barely been gone three hours, but it felt longer.
He flew down the staircase three steps at a time, practically dived across the lobby and grabbed the doorknob. He yanked the door open before they even had a chance to knock.
Andrew Morgan stood in the doorway of his empty house, staring at the startled Traffic Officers standing on his porch.
“Mr. Morgan?” The sound of the Officer's voice seemed to be swimming up from the void, it came from everywhere and nowhere all at once. “Mr. Morgan, I said can we come in?”
As Andrew looked at the man speaking to him, he became vaguely aware of the water dripping from the man's nose and realised it was raining. It was raining heavily. Morgan blinked, and that's when he realized the other officer, still partially obscured by the darkness outside of the house, was stood in the rain holding a small, whimpering dog. A dog that looked familiar, but far too old to be... Morgan's head cocked slowly to the side and, voice clouded in confusion he asked. “Charlie?” and the dog raised his head. “Why do you have Rebecca's dog?”
Despite the rain, the officer removed his hat and a look of excruciating pain washed across his face.
“Mr. Morgan, I have some terrible news. I'm afraid there was an accident....”” Morgan could see that the Officer was speaking, and knew what he was here to say... but the words, he just couldn't quite make them out “.......”
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Morgan heard the sound of thunder as it echoed though the years. Charlie looked back toward his approaching master as though he heard it too. Morgan stopped, his fists clenched, tightly holding on to the teddy bear he carried. Despite his pain, he smiled and lowered gently to his knees where he rested the card and bear against the engraved marble headstone.
“Happy Birthday Sweetie.” The words caught in his throat momentarily, but with some effort he managed to get them out. Charlie nuzzled his head against Morgan's trembling hand and instinctively he ran his fingers through his thick coat.
“It's hard to believe you'd have been nine today. Sorry we've not been to see you in a while, Charlie and I been doin' some travelling. I didn't like bein' away so long, well... Neither of us did.” Morgan snorted laughter as Charlie grunted, seemingly in agreement. “See... I went back. I know I said I never would but...” Morgan palmed a errant tear from his cheek. “I had to do somethin.” His voice broke and he paused, taking a moment to suppress the pain. “I think you'd understand and if not, I hope you'd be able to forgive me for it. But I had nothing. Without you or your mom...” His voice trembled. “It's been such a long four years, Rebecca, and I... I reached my breaking point. I knew I was going to break one of the promises I made to you and....” He paused as a swell of shame filled his body. His hand went to his pocket and seeking comfort his fingers found the token he carried inside. “I figured this would be the easier of the two to forgive.”
Morgan sighed, rolled off of his knees and sat heavily on the grass beside his daughters grave, so disappointed in himself for the thoughts swirling through his mind that he was unable to look directly at her headstone. Lost for words, Morgan sat in silence for several moments before forcing himself to say something, anything, to drown out the demons inside.
“I have a match coming up in a few days, one of the big ones that Mom would have let you stay up to watch. It's giving me the chance to challenge for a title. I'll have to make it through three other guys to get the shot, one of 'em is even a friend...” He hesitated and glanced at the headstone. “Kinda.” Morgan slowly shakes his head “It's probably the biggest opportunity I've had since PWE. I don't know if that's a good thing or not... Don't know if I'm ready for it; If I'll ever be ready for it.. Or if I ever was ready for it.”
“Why the hell am I telling you this? Like it even matters.” Another tear rolled down his cheek and he breathed deeply, trying to hold himself together as the darkness crept in all around. “I'll do it for you.” His hand returned to his pocket. “When I'm strong enough... I promise.”
Morgan pushed himself to his feet, his legs threatening to give way beneath him. He cast one final look at his daughters ornate marble headstone, her photograph immortalized beneath a glass frame within the memorial. He kissed his fingers, and pressed them lovingly to her likeness before turning and walking away on shaking legs. Half way down the hill, he produced a hip flask and swigged deeply as his fingers again instinctively found their way to the bullet he carried in his pocket.
Morgan smiled despite the immense pain he felt just from being here and as he drew closer, he heard Charlie's quiet whimpering. As always, he and his companion were perfectly in tune emotionally speaking.
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He heard the car pull into the drive and jumped up from the bed where he had been laying sleeplessly for several hours. A quick glance at the clock radio on the bedside table told him it was 3:33 am. They had barely been gone three hours, but it felt longer.
He flew down the staircase three steps at a time, practically dived across the lobby and grabbed the doorknob. He yanked the door open before they even had a chance to knock.
Andrew Morgan stood in the doorway of his empty house, staring at the startled Traffic Officers standing on his porch.
“Mr. Morgan?” The sound of the Officer's voice seemed to be swimming up from the void, it came from everywhere and nowhere all at once. “Mr. Morgan, I said can we come in?”
As Andrew looked at the man speaking to him, he became vaguely aware of the water dripping from the man's nose and realised it was raining. It was raining heavily. Morgan blinked, and that's when he realized the other officer, still partially obscured by the darkness outside of the house, was stood in the rain holding a small, whimpering dog. A dog that looked familiar, but far too old to be... Morgan's head cocked slowly to the side and, voice clouded in confusion he asked. “Charlie?” and the dog raised his head. “Why do you have Rebecca's dog?”
Despite the rain, the officer removed his hat and a look of excruciating pain washed across his face.
“Mr. Morgan, I have some terrible news. I'm afraid there was an accident....”” Morgan could see that the Officer was speaking, and knew what he was here to say... but the words, he just couldn't quite make them out “.......”
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Morgan heard the sound of thunder as it echoed though the years. Charlie looked back toward his approaching master as though he heard it too. Morgan stopped, his fists clenched, tightly holding on to the teddy bear he carried. Despite his pain, he smiled and lowered gently to his knees where he rested the card and bear against the engraved marble headstone.
“Happy Birthday Sweetie.” The words caught in his throat momentarily, but with some effort he managed to get them out. Charlie nuzzled his head against Morgan's trembling hand and instinctively he ran his fingers through his thick coat.
“It's hard to believe you'd have been nine today. Sorry we've not been to see you in a while, Charlie and I been doin' some travelling. I didn't like bein' away so long, well... Neither of us did.” Morgan snorted laughter as Charlie grunted, seemingly in agreement. “See... I went back. I know I said I never would but...” Morgan palmed a errant tear from his cheek. “I had to do somethin.” His voice broke and he paused, taking a moment to suppress the pain. “I think you'd understand and if not, I hope you'd be able to forgive me for it. But I had nothing. Without you or your mom...” His voice trembled. “It's been such a long four years, Rebecca, and I... I reached my breaking point. I knew I was going to break one of the promises I made to you and....” He paused as a swell of shame filled his body. His hand went to his pocket and seeking comfort his fingers found the token he carried inside. “I figured this would be the easier of the two to forgive.”
Morgan sighed, rolled off of his knees and sat heavily on the grass beside his daughters grave, so disappointed in himself for the thoughts swirling through his mind that he was unable to look directly at her headstone. Lost for words, Morgan sat in silence for several moments before forcing himself to say something, anything, to drown out the demons inside.
“I have a match coming up in a few days, one of the big ones that Mom would have let you stay up to watch. It's giving me the chance to challenge for a title. I'll have to make it through three other guys to get the shot, one of 'em is even a friend...” He hesitated and glanced at the headstone. “Kinda.” Morgan slowly shakes his head “It's probably the biggest opportunity I've had since PWE. I don't know if that's a good thing or not... Don't know if I'm ready for it; If I'll ever be ready for it.. Or if I ever was ready for it.”
“Why the hell am I telling you this? Like it even matters.” Another tear rolled down his cheek and he breathed deeply, trying to hold himself together as the darkness crept in all around. “I'll do it for you.” His hand returned to his pocket. “When I'm strong enough... I promise.”
Morgan pushed himself to his feet, his legs threatening to give way beneath him. He cast one final look at his daughters ornate marble headstone, her photograph immortalized beneath a glass frame within the memorial. He kissed his fingers, and pressed them lovingly to her likeness before turning and walking away on shaking legs. Half way down the hill, he produced a hip flask and swigged deeply as his fingers again instinctively found their way to the bullet he carried in his pocket.
