The heat from her body still warmed the car.
There was the possibility that I just didn't want to turn the heat off, but I was positive her body had warmed the car much more than the heater ever could. I remember she gave me a hug before she got in. She had given me hugs before, but I never paid much attention to the heat she gave off.
Now it seemed her body was still in the car with me. I sat there, looking at the fog on the window caused by her breath. I leaned over and touched her seat, finding that it was still warm. I shook my head, smiling, and then turned the heater off. I saw her wave from the front room window and pulled away from her house.
I ended up a mile away from the road to my house. I let my car idle as I looked at the clear, spotless window. My mind took me back to when I had first moved here with my family. I was exploring a road up one of the mountains after hours of convincing him to let me take his Volvo. I saw a turn off and took it. Once I got to the end I saw a few cars. None of the other cars knew the others were there most likely, and all the windows were fogged. I laughed, having seen a similar scene in many movies before. I left.
So there I sat. Alone in my car on the side of the road, out of his range. I turned in my seat, facing the side window now, and breathed out. She had done it this morning, then fog covered the window and she drew a star on it. I watched as the air I blew out did nothing to the window. I turned back to the steering wheel. I looked at my small, pale, fragile looking and delicate hands, decorated with rings, even my engagement ring from him. My memory brought up her red, undecorated, soft and fleshy hands. I could always see her heartbeat. The way the skin on her neck and wrist pounded softly as her blood passed under it. Had I ever looked that way to anybody?
At that point I felt empty, hallow. How many heartbeats had I heard that day? And how many had come from my family? We were an oddity of nature. We shouldn't have even existed.
I was tempted, while I was standing there, to take it away. It had the day of my death, and birth. But I hadn't died, so it shouldn't have been there.
I wondered if my hands had ever looked like hers. If they had ever been so soft and warm and fragile. I wondered if I had ever had a father who cared for me as hers did.
Then I wondered if I had loved as she did, and does. What I saw every day between her and my brother was magical. Quite literally at that. My younger brother teased her about how necrophilia was illegal, and we would all laugh. I wondered if my life had ever been close to what hers was like. Before the blackness, that is.
I had been given a life here, with limited restrictions. Not the life I had wanted. I had always, since I can remember, seen teenagers been scolded for being home after midnight. When I came home after midnight Esme gave me a hug and asked how I was. Teenagers also were told constantly not to do drugs, but I didn't have the choice to do drugs. It wasn't fair.
Everyone else remembered their human life, even she would remember hers. Why had I been chosen to have no memory? Why couldn't I remember my mother or father, or younger sister? Had it been the treatments? The drugs? Had there even been treatments or drugs?
I didn't know what it was like to cry. I couldn't remember the feeling of feeling satisfied as food slid down my throat. The rest of them did.
I knew how to love. And hate. And even feel fear. But I would never know what a feeling of true pleasure felt like for a human. There were so many things I didn't and never would know, and even though my current knowledge outweighed that, I still felt ignorant. Yes, I was living vicariously through her, what with the prom, and now planning her wedding. I was living through her, but I would never know how she felt.
I moved to the passenger side of the car and traced the star she had drawn on the window earlier that day.
So many things I could think about, and all I did think about was the fact that the heat from her body still warmed the car.
Short, I know, but let me know what you think.