Marcy opened her eyes, the pitch black of the bedroom was oppressive; pressing down on her until it felt like all the air had been sucked out of the room. She struggled to catch a breath, to breathe, to feel anything but this unrelenting sadness.
Chase was dead. the thought haunted her every waking moment; there was no escaping it, no getting away, no warm safe place to hide where the memory of his very being couldn't haunt her. Chase was in everything she did, he waited for her in every corner of her apartment, stood silently staring on every street corner. Memories replayed in her mind everytime she closed her eyes.
Marcy wanted to scream, but the screaming led to crying and the crying led to the contemplation of things that just seemed out of her control. Chase was her best friend, and now he was gone. A million little what ifs and if only's ran through her mind.
What if she told him how she felt, if only she met him for coffee instead of going to yoga.