Bitter Wishes

Well I did say I wanted it. When she left me. I did say that. In the aftermath of the funeral I didn’t think I could cope, but God has a funny old sense of humour. The baby should have helped, but even after a long period of mourning and cursing the world, I still didn’t want to know. I thought I knew exactly what I wanted, for the world to be “painted black” - I wanted to make everyone as miserable as I was – no matter who, no matter what their lives were like.

Even when I got one last farewell, sprinkling her ashes over the sea near the Point, where we first met, even then all I could think about was that her ashes would help discolour the sea, turning it black rather than its beautiful green, the green that reflected perfectly in her eyes. Those beautiful, wonderful, loving eyes that I had closed, never to open again. Those eyes I had watched darken almost to black as the life drained from her body. As I watched the black begin to pain the walls of my life, taking away all the colour she had brought into it.

They took our baby away eventually, the one she died giving birth to. I never could name her, because if I had I’d have had to come out of my funk and started to care. But then, as I say, it’s just natural for the mother to die. As natural as birth itself. Can’t say I blame them for taking her away. It was another corner of my life turning black, just like I wanted.

But you have to be careful what you wish for, don’t you?

How selfish must I have looked, demanding that everyone join me when I should have been hoping that the same thing never hurts them the way it did me.

You see, I got my way, eventually, but it wasn’t to be easy on me. First drink took me, and I wallowed in my own self pity for months. My friends tried, I know they did, but they weren’t able to break through the walls of black bricks I had begun to build around myself.

Then I really took the bit between the teeth. I decided enough was enough. We had a lovely little family car, one that had caught my eye and bought to bring her “precious little bundle” home from the hospital, and never used. It was still sitting in the driveway, outside our lovely little cottage with the pillar-box red door. Such a beautiful sight. Funnily enough, the car was black - perhaps I’d known all along, shiny and black, like a mini-hearse. My favourite colour by now. I went for a long drive, not seeing the sights, out of town and drove through 3 counties before I found what I was looking for. I went into the quiet country pub and propped myself down in a quiet corner where I hoped I wouldn't be seen, and downed whisky after whisky, nearly half a bottle of my favourite – Johnny Walker Black Label.

The landlord probably shouldn’t have let me leave, but he turned a blind eye; I think he was glad I was leaving. I think by then the blackness was forming an aura around me.

Then back to my nice, shiny black car, and I drove out of the pub car park, peering red-eyed into the gathering gloom. By near sunset, I was half-way home, and blind drunk. Then I spotted it, right at the side of the road – a big red sign saying “Road Ends”. At first I was going to brake, a wrong turning, then the idea suddenly formed – the end of the road, peace at last!. I could be with her! I accelerated, not seeing what would happen next.

It was a big, black rock that stopped me in my tracks. My final vision is of the windscreen coming toward me in pieces.

They tell me the car is a right off. And the staff are very kind at the hospital. My legs are in plaster, and they reckon the ribs will heal perfectly. I’m in no pain, the needle in my arm takes care of that. They tell me it’s morphine. They tell me the cuts to my face will heal. They tell me it’s a beautiful day and the sun is shining in through the window.

I believe them, for I know I got my wish. It’s the beginning of a whole new world for me, a whole new “outlook” on life. The glass from the windscreen flew into both my eyes and ripped them to shreds before I could close my eyelids. My new world is, and always will be, painted black. Wish granted.