DISCLAIMER: I do not own, nor ever will own, any of the following characters, although I own this storyline. The characters are credited to Deb Cox and Andrew Knight, two fabulously talented people who I will forever admire.

 

This was another outcome of the biology trip, as the title suggests. My creative outlet was gushing over that weekend, and I don't know why, considering all the work I did in those two days! The following is sad, and I don't mean to make anyone cry. Too many days have been filled with emotion for me.

 

Dedicated to all those who have loved and lost.

 

The Fastest Year

By Casey

 

My life changed forever in five hours. I sit here, dumbfounded. I refuse to believe the two sentences that have entered my ears. My mind does not wish to process them, the connection between my ears and my brain out of order. I gazed absently at a painting on the sterile white wall in front of me. A bright sun pokes through the white, fluffy clouds that float freely in a crystal blue sky. I wondered if that is what its like, up there. My subconscious mind has accepted what I have been told, and now ponders if my darling is there. I know she would be, there is no possible way that she could be anywhere else. Heaven is for angels, my beloved being one.

 

A hand touches my shoulder. It takes me a few moments to register, but upon doing so, I see that it is the same person who had spoken to me moments before. He had been there the whole time. He asked me if I was all right. I felt like standing up and punching him. How could I possibly be fine? The most cherished person in my life has been snatched away from me and he wonders if I'm all right. What a blatantly stupid question. I nod vaguely, and I hear another sentence murmured by the person in front of me. It enters my eardrums, and my brain slowly processes it. I nod again, and my legs force me upward. I don't know who it is that controls my body. I feel so lifeless and empty; there is no energy left in my weary body.

 

I follow the person down the hallway. The majority of faces that I look at during the walk are filled with beaming smiles. They are questioning my sorrowful look, and this angers me. I want them to know what has happened to me, but they have no need to know. I can deal with their looks of curiosity, but they won't know what has happened. The person turned left, and I followed him, still unaware of the hive of activity surrounding me. There were many other people hugging, shedding tears of happiness and joy. That would have been me, I thought wistfully. There wasn't going to be much happiness and joy in my household for a long time.

 

Seeing the person leave me alone, I stepped towards the bed. I looked sorrowfully at her face, so calm and peaceful, yet so lifeless. My dearest Laura. For a while, I just stood, absorbing the scene in front of me, trying to believe that it was true. Though no matter how long I dwelled on it, the truth wasn't going to dawn on me. Not today. I dragged a chair towards the bed, and sank dejectedly into it. Taking her limp hand in my own, I let the tears fall. The tears were of sorrow, heartache, and of anger. Her face was so pale, but she was at peace. I longed to hear her voice again.

 

I gently ran my hand over her soft cheek. I remember every morning, after returning from my routine swim, how she would be sitting on the sand, a hot cup of tea waiting for me. We would return to the house after having a discussion about the queerest of things, and begin the day happily. She gracefully entered the kitchen and snatched up the latest edition of the Oyster, keen to read what I wrote. From the kitchen where I prepared breakfast, I would turn and watch her read inquisitively, her enchanting green eyes lighting up when she laughed.

 

Even in death, she looked truly radiant. There had always been a certain aura that surrounded her no matter what type of mood she held. The room would brighten whenever she entered. Rooms would be dull and lifeless from now on. I choked on tears, sobbing, as it was all I knew to do. I held her hand to my face, remembering how she would do the same action to me whenever I was troubled. It didn't have the same calming effect on me as it once had. There was no warmth in her fingertips, no tenderness from her touch. It wasn't even her touch anymore. It was only me controlling the movement of her hand.

 

The silence in the room was unbearable. I knew that normally such a room would be filled with warm chatter between family and friends. I had called Meredith and clarified that no one was to come and visit. Not yet, anyway. I didn't want anyone to see me in such a state. Everything that was good in my life seemed to be taken from me whenever all was cruising. It was then that I thought of the one person who was still here, amidst all the sorrow. I buzzed for someone, as the doctor had told me to do. A nurse promptly entered, and I told her what I wanted. She nodded, and then left. I was left alone again, in this silence.

 

I couldn't take my eyes away from her face. Her eyes were closed, and I longed to see the vibrant green again. Her face was pale, paler than usual. I did not like how pale she looked. It was not how she was supposed to be. Her cheeks were void of the rosiness that was evident whenever she was embarrassed, angered, stressed or truly happy. I had grown used to seeing such colour n her cheeks that I now questioned who I was looking at. Was this my beloved before me? How could someone so astute be taken away from the Earth? Why would someone with such leadership and wisdom be removed from a small community that had been resuscitated by her presence?

 

The door suddenly opened, and I was jerked from my thoughts. I stood, and walked to where the nurse stood. I hadn't set eyes on her since…then, but she had changed a lot in the mere hours between. The nurse handed her over to me, and I took hold of her carefully, treating her like glass. She was glass, far too precious to be held by anyone. She was all I had left now. My beautiful baby girl. I returned to my bedside vigil, sinking back into my seat. I looked down at the bundle asleep in my arms. She was so tiny. The doctors had said that she would be petite, like her mother, but when my 6-pound baby was brought into this world, I was stunned by her smallness. I had never imagined a human could be so small. But I was proven wrong.

 

I gently touched the soft wisps of auburn that finely covered her head. She had her mother's hair. In fact, she was her mother. I recalled a day, not even a month ago, when Laura and I had sat through album upon album of baby photos of both her family and mine. I retrieved the two photos that we'd brought with us, and examined them closely. There was no denying that the baby in my arms was the child of my beloved. The photo I held could have easily been mistaken for a photo of my newborn. I was overjoyed that my gorgeous baby looked like her mother. There was no one more perfect in the world to look like.

 

I felt a shift in my arms, and my little baby stirred. She wriggled about, fists fighting to be freed from the pink blanket wrapped around her. She became motionless, and it was then that she opened her eyes. Gems of green gazed curiously up at me, and I could have sworn that I was looking into Laura's eyes. My heart fluttered, and I felt a lump rise in my throat. I forced it down, and tried in vain to fight the tears that were brimming my eyes. I had an angelic baby girl in my arms and her just as beautiful mother lying before me. She would never have the opportunity to see just how beautiful the baby we had created was. Nothing would stop the tears now. I had been struck a forceful blow from the evil known as truth.

 

I was forbidden from grieving though, when my baby began wailing. It was as though she felt the pain too. I was at a loss as to what to do. I gently ran my finger across her velvety cheek, talking quietly to her. I feared that she would be afraid of my voice, deep and loud, but she was quite happily soothed. It was then that I began doing something that had caught even myself off guard.

            "Lau, this is our beautiful baby girl" holding my baby in the nook of my left arm, and my beloved's hand in my right, I introduced the pair. "Bubsy, this is mummy. Say hello to mummy"

 

            "We need to give her a name, Lau, so what do you think? I know how much you detested Rex and Rexina, so I came up with a compromise. Your suggestion of Calista, which I did fall in love with upon hearing, is going to be our baby's name. But only on the condition that Laura is her middle name. Does that sound like a fair agreement? I hope so. Calista Laura Connors, sounds perfect, doesn't it?" Max sighed heavily, wishing that his conversation was not just with himself. "What do you think, Bubsy? Or should I say, Calista? Your name means most beautiful, so I don't see any falsities with that"

 

I sat in silence once again. I knew I would eventually have to say goodbye to my beloved, but I wasn't ready to just yet. In all truth, I probably would never be prepared to say goodbye. We had not one year ago said hello (in the 'more than friends' perspective). We were never going to share in the life of our most perfect creation, Calista. Only I would watch her grow, send her off to school, see her graduate, go to university, get married. There were going to be some very tough times ahead. I knew that I could never raise a child on my own. I'm a lost soul without my beloved.

 

            "Laura, I don't know what I'm going to do without you. How am I supposed to raise a daughter on my own? I need you…I love you" I spoke the words through tears. It occurred to me that during the whole time Laura and I had been together, I had never said 'I love you' to her. Not once. What a fool I am! Why does everything good in my life get taken away from me? Maybe I'm not supposed to have a partner. I lost Eleana, now I have lost my Laura. The one thing that I'm grateful for though, is that I now hold in my arms the symbol of love that Laura and I shared. A beautiful daughter, who was in every way like her mother. I knew that things would be hard, but I also knew that I would see Laura every day, through the eyes of our daughter.

 

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She sat upon the sand dunes, spying on her beau and her daughter. Things had changed in a year. Calista had grown, and, although she didn't like to openly admit it, her daughter was the spitting image of her. Max sat on the sand with Calista playing happily in the sand. The pair were making a sad looking sandcastle, but she couldn't help but fall in love with the scene in front of her. Max had grown very different after becoming a father. She knew that he had lost his individual sense of humour, and rarely joked about. He was protective of Calista, but she knew why. She knew he was too afraid to let her out of his sight, too afraid to lose her too. There was such a yearning tugging at her heart that it was painful. To be missing out on life with Max and her children was truly was tragic.

 

Miranda had nearly completed her journalism course, and was returning to Pearl Bay to help Max care for her sister. Rupert had moved to live with his father while completing year 12, but had vowed that he would return afterwards. It had broken her heart to not be near them all every day, but she had learnt a lot about each of them over one fast year. They each had different ways of venting anger, her favourite being Rupert's habit of eating chips and gravy while watching action movies. Max had talked to her every night, and she had heard his cries for help, guidance and advice. She had let him know all the right things to do, and she knew that he knew she was talking to him.

 

Returning to the scene on the beach, she saw Max lift Calista into his arms, her face covered with a delighted smile. She saw a glitter of joy in Max's striking blue eyes; she knew all too well of his love for Calista. The sun was setting in the west, a perfect sky stretching endlessly with the deep blue ocean. She watched the pair head towards her, obviously returning home for the evening. She knew that he was in need of that feeling again, and knew just how to give him strength. A slight smile escaped her, and she moved towards them.

 

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I walked over the shore, Calista in my arms. Her contented gurgling told me she was happy. I debated what to cook for tea. I for one wasn't hungry, but miss moppet in my arms would be. I suddenly felt a chill at my side, and looked. There was no one there, but I could feel a warm presence beside me. My heart filled with determination and willpower, and I knew at that instant that an angel was by my side. My beloved Laura, mother to three perfect children and lover to me. Nothing would change those roles, nothing at all.

 

FINIS