Ray Kowalski rubbed his sore eyes. He paced aimlessly around his apartment, and finally collapsed onto his bed. The only light was coming from his stove light, dimly illuminating the apartment. He had been too distraught to do much after the funeral. He didn't cry, there didn't seem any point, but there was no mistaking his sadness. He wasn't speaking much, and he overheard his unofficial partner mention to Lt. Welsh that he had never seen him sit still so long. He looked at his watch. It was 1:32 a.m. His body was tired, he had been running purely on adrenaline the past few days, and he knew he was going to crash.
Maybe I should call Benny...nah...He's probably having a tough time too.
Indeed, Constable Benton Fraser was upset, but not to the extent of Ray. He had only known the man for a short while, but the feelings he had for this woman were quite obvious. Ray rolled over onto his stomach, and buried his head in his arms.
...I should have told her...why do I always do that? Not say anything because I'm afraid of looking stupid...not that it hasn't happened before...
His body told him that he needed rest, but his mind was operating on a totally different plane than his body. He knew he couldn't get to sleep, despite how tired he was. Oh sure. He could get into bed, and shut his eyes, but what good would that do? If he fell asleep, he would dream, and go through the process of loosing her again.
...Why did I have to be there? Why did she have to die right there,
in front of me...
..why couldn't I save her? Why did I just watch? Why did I just hold her? Why didn't I say anything to her...?
He sat up. He would keep asking himself the same questions, and he needed something to occupy himself before he lost his mind. He got out of bed, and turned on his radio, wondering what would be played at 2 in the morning.
."..Ti amo, Ti amo.."
The moment the first bars were sung, Ray could feel his heart collapse.
"Shut up!" he cried to the radio. "Not now!" He did not want to hear that song right now. His vision was blurred by the tears, and he moved the dial blindly. It was a slow song he had never heard in his life. He walked to his couch, and fell into it, his body convulsing with each sob. His head hurt, his eyes hurt....his heart hurt. He lay like that for what seemed like forever . He finally sat up, and cupped his head in his hands. He let out a shaky breath, and shut his eyes tightly. He got up a moment later, and wandered again. He wanted to talk to someone, tell someone how much he had loved her. Without realising it, he had opened a drawer, holding an assortment of junk. He peered into it.
"Hey, batteries..." he mused. He smiled, and wiped his eyes. He continued pawing through the drawer. Not being aware of it, he had pulled out paper, and a pencil. He began to write.
'I don't know where this letter is going, but there's no one around
to talk to, and if I write something I don't like, I can erase it, unlike
I want to start of with I'm sorry. I wanted to tell you these things, but I never knew how. I guess now that you're gone, it doesn't matter, but I needed to tell someone. I loved you. I mean really loved you. Did you know that? Did you know I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you? Maybe a few kids...
If I wasn't pretending to be your brother...this would have been a hell of a lot easier on me. Did you love me like I was your brother? Did you love me at all, or was I just some annoying guy that made dumb remarks to you? You know, the old cliché is true: If a guy likes you, he bugs you all the time. You're the only other person besides Stella I've ever bugged, you know that Franny?
There are so many things I wish I could have done with you Fran. I wished we could have danced, and laughed together. I wish we could have gone out, and acted like lovers, not siblings. I wish that I could hold you when you were frightened, or worried, or when you just needed holding.
Franny, I don't know if I believe in heaven, but if it exists I'm sure you're there. And I hope you know what I'm writing. I always seem too late. Too late to tell someone something...to late to help you. When you were shot Franny, I wanted to help...but I..I don't know why I didn't do anything. Maybe I was scared, maybe I was in shock, maybe because I was too upset to do anything. Do you know what I was thinking when you were laying there? I was thinking that I had failed you. You never talked about your brother much, your real brother, but I'm sure he did a hell of a better job protecting you. I messed up Francesca, and I'm going to have to live with it for the rest of my life. I'm so sorry Franny. I do wish it was me who had been hit, and not you. You didn't deserve it.
I don't know if I'll ever show anyone this letter....I don't know what I'm gonna do with it when it's done. Maybe I'll give it to your brother when he comes back. Do you think he'll be angry at me for not taking care of you like I should have? Do you think he'll forgive me? I wouldn't.
I'm sorry Franny.
I'll never forget you.
I miss you.
I love you.'
Stanley Raymond Kowalski
He lay back down on his bed, staring at the ceiling. He could faintly hear the radio in the other room. He listened to the words.
'...'cause there are holes in the floor of heaven...and her tears are pouring down.... thats' how I know she's watching, wishing she could be here now. And sometimes when I'm lonely, I remember she can see, 'cause there's holes in the floor of heaven and she's watching over you and me....'
Ray rolled over onto his side, and looked out the window.
A light rain began to fall.
Ray smiled. "Love you Franny."
Ha! I bet you thought it was Stella, didn't you? Well, up until
the point where Ray made the mentions about the brother/sister thing. TYK
to my brother, who may be an ass in a golf shirt, but he knows all the
words to almost every country 'sawng' out there(and he listens to hip-hop.
Go figure). Also, to Ashley Calvert who I always dump ideas on (Let's mess
with their heads!).
This story is dedicated to everyone who has lost someone, and regrets not telling them something, but mostly for my friend Ivana Ricci, who lost her cousin last year and
seems to trust me to listen. I always will Vaughn, don't worry.