Empty Inside

A silence engulfed the car, the kind that seems to amplify wind whipping past its thin metal shell, slapping its front and wrapping around its back. It provided evidence to passengers within that it is always colder, harsher, more dangerous outside than within this womb of airbags and seatbelts. It was the kind of silence that stifled any potential dialogue.

Billie kept her hands on her stomach, a peak so slight that it required some kind of tactile feedback to ensure its existence. Every time she lifted her hands and placed them gently on her stomach, she expected some kind of warmth for her shaking extremities, but every time she was met with the same sweaty skin that covered her whole body.

The world rolled underneath Martin’s wheels, the lines of the highway seeming to bend as they approached him. He constantly ran his hand over his face, closing his eyes, and when they opened he was met with a world just slightly different, barely noticeable, and it never failed to disappoint him.

He pulled into the parking space right by the building so gently that he never used brakes, and the car in fact rolled to a premature stop and required the slightest motion to be nudged into the space. He closed his door and went to the passenger’s side, but Billie was far ahead, already being enveloped behind the automatic sliding doors.

An uncomfortable moment ensued, the kind that leaves someone incapable to think, and regardless of the measures taken, is only alleviated by time. After a while, Martin wondered whether to go inside or to stay outside. Something told him that the matter was both completely related to him and not related to him at all. He opted to stand in the darkness between the streetlights, right outside of the automatic door that consumed Billie not too long ago.

Eventually, the doors spat her out, caked in tears. She ran right into Martin, not
seeing him in the darkness of the night, and only recognizing him when he placed a familiar hand on her back and embraced her. They stood there, between the fluorescent glows, as if to fill some overlooked void, something missing not only around them but within them both. The rocked back and forth, leaning into the wind and its changing paths, almost as if they were dancing. Martin looked through Billie’s eyes and watched them close as she rested her head on his shoulder and he closed his eyes as well. Soon after, Billie collapsed to the ground, and remained there, a permanent replacement to the empty void between the lights.