The pain was still too raw for words - so in place of words, Hannah threw dishes, passionately & without mercy - she was spiraling towards emotional hysteria. Occasionally, amidst the outbursts of yelling, Hannah would suddenly breakdown...and her anger would dissolve into sadness. The magnitude of her loss, the depth of her suffering - it was more than she could endure. And with each haunting flashback, she died a little more inside.
In the backdrop of flying china and loud wailing, Peter was himself struggling, albeit silently. Since relapsing a couple months ago, he had started distancing himself from Hannah. Too preoccupied with his own demons, he hadn't taken notice of the subtle changes in Hannah's behavior. Most nights he would come home already buzzed by the half-pint of stoli he had finished on the car ride over - mindlessly yelling out "Baby, I'm home..." - and passing out unaware if she had responded, or if she was even home.
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Now here they were, this morning, with the truth revealed, their lies exposed, and their love lost. The both of them knew there was no going back to their old lives, and yet almost in a state of shock, they were keeping up appearances - for the sake of their family & friends. On the phone with his parents, Hannah watched Peter agree to a family brunch as he picked up broken glass that she had shattered during her last outburst of rage...he lied without hesitance, even volunteering to bring Hannah's infamous red velvet cupcakes - it was a bizarre conversation. Portraying an image of love felt painfully natural. If only things could go back to the ignorance of yesterday...
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Yesterday, Peter didn't know that Hannah had been pregnant the night of their fateful crash several months ago. Yesterday, Hannah didn't know that the night of their fateful crash, Peter's blood alcohol level was three times the legal limit. Thanks to an undiscovered file of medical bills and hospital documents, they were both made aware of the truth in all its entirety...and no matter which way they looked at it, the truth did not set either of them free.
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It was storming outside…rain and hail thrashing about, mercilessly. The gusts of wind had knocked over the furniture on the patio….trashcans had rolled onto the road with garbage strewn about. the figure-8 streetlamps were flickering on-and-off, a warning to all around – take shelter, mother nature hath no fury. The sun had retired early that day. Except for the bursts of lightening, the sky looked dull and lifeless...an eerie shade of grey.
The storm outside mirrored Hannah’s insides. Everything she had known to be good was taken from her. Tears blurring her sight, she fumbled with the lock…her head throbbed from all the crying and shouting. Peter had tried to help but she was inconsolable. As he watched her leaving, he felt the numbing despair of irreparable damage..he had destroyed their future. the loss was insurmountable, the guilt was too powerful.
Hannah stepped out onto the porch, she begged God for an explanation…she needed a reason…why had this happened....how could she find hope in death?
The storm outside mirrored Hannah’s insides. Everything she had known to be good was taken from her. Tears blurring her sight, she fumbled with the lock…her head throbbed from all the crying and shouting. Peter had tried to help but she was inconsolable. As he watched her leaving, he felt the numbing despair of irreparable damage..he had destroyed their future. the loss was insurmountable, the guilt was too powerful.
Hannah stepped out onto the porch, she begged God for an explanation…she needed a reason…why had this happened....how could she find hope in death?
