The House After Murder

Written on October 11, 2013 at 10:12pm

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In Memorium Sheryl Laird-Partington, 3/28/1970-10/12/09

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the moment came

dreaded and feared

of having to enter the home

after the murder

still swarthed in shock

i stare at this house,

this small house

this house of so many dreams

her dollhouse...

and trying to breathe,

trying to brace,

i enter...

and it is quiet...

so quiet...

i inhale slowly

smelling: the house, the cat, the familiar scents...sister's perfume

a few toys lay scattered on the floor

dvd cases still open..movies still waiting to be watched.

a glass of water on the table by the couch...

daily life....interrupted

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i see the out-of-place

the small throw rug, in the hallway

covering a stain, slightly shy of covering it completely

the dark brown rust around the edges.

i know, i know, i know

husband tried to spare me this...

this stain...

where she died...

i blink slowly

walk quickly over it

to the kitchen

the oven door is open, a tray of uneaten toast lies on top

the juice is on the table, glass part full

the sink filled with dirty dishes

the cat's food bowls-full and untouched...

i look around, everything beautiful, her

the paper lace edging the shelves

the painted rocks...the love of home...

i take the painted rock...yes..

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turning,...i quickly enter into little ones room

gentle blue and soft

clouds painted lovingly on the wall...

toys strewn along with shoes and clothes...

the hurry of a rushed morning getting ready for school evident...

i look slowly, trying to remember every detail

and enter into the heart of the house

her room...fresh painted yellow, new color for a new start,

i take it in....it is beautiful and bright and makes my eyes water

the bed is rumpled and unmade, her satin robe carelessly strewn across the bed

ready for the next night's wear...walking over...i pick it up, hold it to my face

and yes, there she is, the scent of her...

this too i will take....

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i look carefully

each photo, each memory, each dream

the delicate porcelain shoes still perched on their display...

just a normal day, the house reflecting only the daily motions,

the only sign hidden mostly under a rug

life interrupted....

so with this rock, with this robe i say goodbye...call out softly to the cat...

and still..it will not come