September 26th, 2014
Living with it.
Grace comes home from school to find me in her room with her bag of coke out. At least one thing out of this is that she doesn’t bring with her to school.
She’s a junior now like how I was when I met her. Grace is definitely not the same person she was when I first met her. She doesn’t even look like the same person. She’s grown up and looks like everyone else her age even though she looked like a middle schooler just two years ago. Now all I’m seeing is her turning into everyone else in this town. Is this what this town really does? Does it really corrupt them to all be the same? We’re all drugged-up fiends looking for an escape. It’s no wonder why she’s turning into someone I don’t recognize.
“Shit,” Grace says when she notices me holding the back in my palm.
I stand up from her chair and give it to her. “I thought we agreed that you wouldn’t do this anymore.”
“I didn’t think you would find out, okay? I’m sorry,” Grace’s words almost sound honest as she stuffs the bag in her pocket.
“What else do you do? Where’s the weed?”
“I don’t smoke weed.”
“Bullshit.”
“Ugh,” Grace rolls her eyes. “So I smoke a little, so what? You’re not gonna tell me to stop, are you?”
“Of course! And if you don’t, I’m gonna tell Mom.”
“That is so bullshit!” Grace stomps her feet. “You’re so hypocritical, Sara. What the fuck were you doing two years ago? What the fuck are you doing now? It’s the same shit!”
“What is?!”
“Drugs! Coke and prescription pills. It’s all the same and doesn’t bullshit me that it’s for your depression. I see you take more than you should.”
It’s not the same. Those pills do help me out with my darkness. She’s just trying to turn this around on me. “Gracie just because I made mistakes two years ago doesn’t mean you should too.”
“Oh shut the fuck up, Sara. You’re just trying to control the only fucking thing you can in your life anymore. I’m not a kid anymore.”
“Oh, so you want me to tell Virginia?!”
“Fucking tell her and I tell her that you’ve been doing coke from my bag too.”
Shit, she noticed. “What?”
“I had a feeling you were stealing and I was right. The bag is lighter than I had it. Caught you red handed, bitch,” Grace laughs, “And guess who on the zero tolerance on drugs list?”
She got me. I really doubt Virginia would kick me out for that at this point but she kicked Andrew out for something he apologized for. Grace plays dirty and I can’t do anything against her. At most, she gets grounded for the rest of high school and I’m kicked out. “You’re such a bitch, Gracie. Fucking overdose for all I care!” There’s really nothing I can say I storm out of her room.
“You’re a crazy whore, Sara! Never forget that!” Grace yells as I head over to my room.
I desperately call Andrew and it rings until it goes to voicemail again. I call again no one answers, I call again and no one answers again. “Fuck!” I yell and slam my foot against the desk; an obvious mistake.
Hiding from the pain I get online on my computer to search for my brother. I try everything I already tried. Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Google, fucking Youtube, and anything that I can use to try to find him. There’s nothing on Andrew. I message his old friends again to see if anyone has heard from him. Carlos hasn’t heard a word even though he asked around. Stephanie doesn’t respond. Some of his other friends don’t know where he is either. I turn on the TV to see if anything is on the afternoon news. Maybe they know for some forsaken reason, any reason, a reason.
I even message Amanda who I know would message him from time to time. Andrew used to talk to a girl name Jerrica. The only one who pops up on Facebook search is Jerrica Crowe, Emily’s sister. There is no Jerrica in Darkwood and I message every Jerrica in Seattle to see if they know my brother. Most respond that they don’t know him, and everyone else doesn’t even bother to message back. It’s no hope, no one has seen Andrew.
Jerrica. Jerrica.
There’s no fucking way he went to Emily’s sister.
Amanda messages me back telling me the last time he heard from him was a couple of months ago.
I text Cody because he’s the only other person I can talk to now. He immediately responds. I’m compelled to talk to him because he just says the right things all the time. I don’t know how he does it.
He says:
“Don’t beat yourself up. He’ll turn up somewhere. He’s a smart dude.”
This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.
Perhaps, but that’s not the fucking point. I need Andrew in my life. Without him, I’m just a fucking mess. I sigh and pick up my guitar thinking about how I want to play on the stage and letting my emotions out. I start to play whatever comes up without concerning myself if it sounds good or not.
I instantly calm down. I listen to myself play and it’s soothing. I start to whistle along the acoustic chords and the melody is quite catchy. It’s out of my head and into my hands I’m able to expand on it and remember it as I start over.
As I start to play more and more I feel the tears start to fall down my face without my control. At some point, I drop the guitar and let the tears fall freely. At another point, they stop and I clean myself off and shoot Cody another text.
“What does Morning Glory mean?”
Cody:
“?”
Me:
“What you told Elizabeth, what does it mean?”
I want to know because this is the title of what I just came up with. Morning Glory for the melancholic acoustic song I have written. I have to watch the film ‘Melancholia’ again. I don’t know why, it’s just a random thought in my head.
Cody:
“Morning Glories are blue flowers.”
I’m tired of hearing that all the time. I’m tired of it always having the same meaning over and over again. I want it to have a deeper meaning.
Me:
“There has to be something more…”
Cody:
“I say a lot of bullshit to mindfuck people Sara. Why do u think Ems left? It’s all bullshit.”
I refuse to believe that.
Me:
“Why do people stay long in my head than they do in real life?”
Cody:
“You mourn the past as much as I do.”
Cody’s right. There doesn’t need to be a bigger meaning. It’s like life, it doesn’t have to have a big meaning. It’s why I’m able to go to the bathroom with a razor blade. It’s why I’m able to lay down on the bathtub and fill her up I press the razor blade against my wrist. It doesn’t cut as I’m just placing pressure but the pain is still there. The pain reminds me that I’m still alive, that I’m still human, that I’m still me.
Me:
“Am I a good person?”
Cody:
“You were never a bad one.”
Me, to Andrew:
“I miss you. Please tell me where you are.”
I submerge my head into the rising water and let it consume me. I once again press down on my wrist with the razor blade and feel the pain engulf me just as the water is doing. I press a bit harder than a little bit more until the pain becomes the norm and starts to sort of feel good. That’s when I let go.
I let go.
I let go of the physical models that keep me in reality. The wonder submerges me past the psychical limits of my mind and allows me to become one with the whole. As it becomes so the walls start to crumble down and I start to feel at peace. There is stillness and silence and not even my own thoughts intrude. See, it’s not insanity. This is the ultimate reality. This is where we all go when we die. It is why I want to die.
I come back to my reality gasping for air and the water splashes all over the floor. Now that I’m back so are my intrusive thoughts and the blade tries to seduce me again.
I dry my hands off with the tower to check my phone.
Cody:
“Let’s hang out tomorrow.”
Me:
“Ok…”
It’s difficult. I don’t want to get up tomorrow. I probably don’t want to go outside tomorrow. This night is one of the worst as time always seems to slow down so much when I get like this.
Me to Freyja:
“Please text me back.”
I close my eyes and await an answer that will never come because it never has.
Freyja:
“Please stop texting me…”
If it’s possible to die more than once, this is how. I stare at this message for hours even though it’s just minutes. It’s not even seven yet.
Yet, seven seems like a fine time to fall asleep and hope that the next day is better. Her scent lingers as the sun goes down. My body will burn and hurt at the break of dawn. I await the day she comes homes. Her silhouette is all I have left. It’s etched on the right side of my bed. I’ve lost track of who I’ve become.
The world fades into a distant land. The shadows loom in growing aches. Memories die in the forgotten valleys. I walk alone as the sun sets down. The vale cries in painful hymns. The silhouettes soon grow to be tall. They haunt the world with their cynical laugh. They stare me down knowing they want to die. My hand holds out a cigarette and it burns bright as it dies out. Smoke forms in the darkened skies. It takes shape of a girl rising above the sea. She wraps around my dying hands and crawls up to hug my neck. The vale breathes as I suffocate. It blooms a garden bed of flowers oh so blue. The shadows disappear as the moon starts to shine. I look up into the night sky as the smoke starts to suck the air out of my lungs.
The wind excels at its noise. The vale quiets down for its roar. It blows the smoke out of my breath. Petals fly across the wind, carried in the hay of the calming storm. I breathe the scent of rain, its petrichor filling up my lungs. The vale starts to flood with rain. There’s no escape from the terrain as everything starts to drown. I can’t escape the flood from swallowing me whole.
I rise up from my bed in cold sweat. It was a just a dream, an odd one at that. Three hours haven’t even passed yet it feel like an entire day and night has passed. My room’s door is open and the hallways light shine through. I can hear Grace’s faint voice in her room. “Yeah, I love her but she can’t fucking tell me what I should be doing,” she says faintly. I lay back down on my bed and decide I don’t want to hear the rest of it.
I’ve gotten more messages from Seattle’s Jerricas. None of them have seen my brother. Stephanie finally texted back, she hasn’t heard from him either recently but was told he was leaving. Still, there’s no leads to my dear brother who I need. If I could just hear his voice one more time then maybe I wouldn’t be like this. Maybe I wouldn’t be so broken. I was doing fine with the breakup up to the point where he left. Now it seems likes I’m back to square one since the day I have arrived in this house. This time I don’t scream when I’m awaken by my night terrors so Virginia never comes. I don’t even think she’s here right now or else Grace wouldn’t be talking so loud.
I close my eyes once more in hopes that I don’t wake up anymore.