Sara VI
July 16th, 2016
I wake up to the scent of strawberries. Somehow, the day seems brighter than usual. It’s pouring rain outside but the day shines like nothing is bothering it. My phone has a text from Emily. She did something stupid, something terrible and idiotic and she wants me to cover for her. It’s too much of a good day to not cover for her although she has to face the truth at some point.
I get up from my bed to go pee. I stop myself in the mirror and examined my damaged body. The cuts are all but gone. The wounds are healing, It’s becoming more and more beautiful. Yet there are still days where it’s hard to think like that. There are days where I’m disgusted with myself. There are days where I even hate myself. Today just happens to be a day where things are good.
Maybe things are good because my brother is back in town. He’s happy. He found someone to live for that isn’t me. I learned to stop relying on him just like he wanted. Or maybe things are good because Freyja is sleeping peacefully on my bed. I lay down next to her again and smell her scent. Strawberries.
I wish moments like these can last forever.
Last night after getting home we did nothing but catch up. There were a few glasses of wine involved and I ended up being unable to drive. Freyja could have asked Grace or even Virginia to take her home, but she didn’t. She stayed.
I wrap my hand around hers just to feel her touch. Freyja tugs on my arm and pulls me closer to her. I think she’s woken up so I opened my eyes just to see hers closed. Our lips are dangerously close to each other and damn, I really want to kiss her. It wouldn’t be right so I pull my head back and let go of her hand.
At some point, I don’t know, maybe thirty minutes later, Freyja’s eyes open. They shine the second they realize I’m here. I wonder if mine are doing the same. I hope they are. “Hmm, Morning,” She yawns.
“Good morning,” I smile.
“Were you watching me sleep?”
“Maybe,” I giggle.
“Creep!” Freyja laughs and nearly pushes me off the bed. “What time is it?”
I look at my phone. Another text from Emily. “It’s nearly noon.”
“Dang, I sure slept in.”
I get up from my bed and put on sweats over my shorts. “Not too late for breakfast?”
Freyja sits up, “No, not unless it would be too awkward.”
“Why would it be awkward?”
“I don’t know. We haven’t seen each other in like a year and the first thing we end up doing is sleeping on the same bed together. I don’t think your mom would look to kindly at me.”
I giggle and put on a semi-clean t-shirt. “She wouldn’t care. Besides, what’s so different than before?”
Freyja gets up and puts on her socks, “We were dating.”
Right. I almost have forgotten that. The first night back and it felt like nothing changed. It still doesn’t. It still feels like she’s my girlfriend. “Yeah. Were,” I say a bit somberly.
Freyja looks at me with sadness in her eyes. “I guess we should talk about where things are moving forward.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m quitting school to take care of my dad and the church.”
“What?”
“His cancer, it’s back. They say it’s terminal this time and he doesn’t have much time left. A couple of months, if that.”
I sit back down on the bed. Shit. A complex of emotions surges through me. On one hand, I feel like shit because I can empathize with her. Her dad’s cancer was something he fought like hell to beat just for this to happen. On the other, that means Freyja would be too busy and maybe we could get back together. I don’t know how to feel. “Freyja, I’m so sorry.”
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Freyja shakes her head and giggles, “It’s alright. At least this time he isn’t blaming me for being gay and whatnot.”
“Are you okay?”
“I don’t know, it hurts but I think we all accepted it. We’re just trying to be there for him as much as we can, y’ know? I just can't-imagine the final moments, and I don’t think I want to. That’s why I’m okay with waiting until that day comes.”
I don’t say anything. I don’t think I can. What do you even say in moments like these? Chris would say something.
“That’s why-I don’t know. Maybe. Maybe we could give us another go. Yeah, maybe long distance will be hard, but I’ll be here. I’m not leaving. I’ll wait for you and even fly out to visit from time to time,”
“Freyja, I-” It’s like only good things have been happening to me lately. Those are words I wanted to hear since last night, yet it feels wrong. “I want the same thing but-”
“Really?!” Freyja leaps onto the bed and almost attacks me.
“Is this what you really want? You have a lot going on right now. Do you think piling me on top of that is the best thing for you?”
Freyja backs off almost immediately. “Sara, I love you. I always loved you. If I learned anything over the past year is that nothing happens without a reason. Everything that has happened over the past three years, I don’t know, it just feels like it’s all cultivating into these moments.”
I smile, “Okay.”
-
Virginia is watching the news while Freyja and I eat lunch. I vaguely pay attention to it. All they’re talking about how this rainfall is the storm of the year and some areas are expected to flood.
I get a text from my brother, “Last minute invite to wedding. Come? Ye or na?”
I text back, “I don’t have a dress dummy.”
“Who’s that?” Freyja asks.
“Andrew,” I reply taking a bite of the lasagna Virginia made. “He wants me to go to the wedding he’s going to. I don’t even have a dress.”
“Oh.”
The news gets louder which catches my attention. “Girl’s, you might want to hear this,” Virginia calls out.
It’s breaking news. Freyja and I went to Emmah Melody Ryan’s concert a few years back. Her parents got her VIP tickets where we got to meet her. It’s where we got the matching set of necklaces. Now the news is saying her husband was killed in an apparent shooting. He leaves behind his wife and 8-year-old son.
The shooter was part of the old Golden Hearts gang that ran rampant back in 2007. He was one of the higher-ups that went by the handle, ‘Wagner’. His real name is Frederick Seibert. He’s been arrested.
Man. I could only imagine what Emmah must be going through. She was so nice when I met her. I hope this terrible news doesn’t get in the way of Cody’s tour. He is signed under the label she’s in.
More news comes in. The cops are looking for another suspect involved in the shooting. They only have his handle to give the public, ‘Mendelssohn”.
“Man, I don’t think I can eat anymore. I feel awful,” Freyja pushes her plate away.
-
Freyja goes home after that news broadcast. I drive there and during that drive, we decide it’s best to take things slow for now. There’s still a lot we have to talk about and work out. Still, things are looking hopeful for me. I tell her to keep tight of the necklace, now more than over. As I drive away, thoughts of the Emmah’s husband creeps into my mind. Her son has to grow up without a father now.
I was the same age when I let my mom die. It still haunts me. It doesn’t matter how many therapy sessions I have. I still can’t get over it. More and more often I find myself thinking about my mother. As the years go by, I remember her faceless and less. Now in these dreams, she remains faceless. Andrew always said I looked like her but now I can’t remember to see if it’s true or not.
It’s why I’m back in my old house three years later. My mother’s mural on the ceiling is fading. There are no photos of her anywhere. In my room, I find a bag of oxycodone and ecstasy pills. I crush them on the kitchen counter and throw the powder outside. Andrew’s room has been changed since I last saw it, although I don’t know if it was recent or not. It could’ve changed when Andrew disappeared on us two years ago. Finally, in the master bedroom, I find nothing but empty beer bottles everywhere. There’s still no picture of Mom. Surely there has to be one somewhere. Yet there isn’t and I only find an old folded up piece of paper addressed to my father, written by my dead mother. Inside the letter, I find her wedding ring.
-
I place the note on top of her grave, letting the rain soak it down into the ground. I pick up the still fresh flowers that Andrew must have left earlier in the day or last night and examine them. Yellow Carnations, Dark Crimson Roses, and Forget-Me-Not’s; all in all an odd combination but mean only one thing. Andrew must know what I just learned thanks to the note I just read.
Our mother was never this woman we held to such high regard. She was this weak woman who could never overcome her sickness. This mother of mine was born with it, like how I now know I was born with it as well. The only difference between us is that I’ve been at my worst and overcome it thanks to my new family. We were just never enough for her. Now I know why my father slowly regressed into what he is now. Now I know why I suffered months of physical and mental abuse.
My mom was never a good person. Sometimes I wish I could hide behind the mask that she was. It would be easier. If I think hard enough, I can remember the beating she used to give me. Yet after reading that note, she left for my dad, how can I hate her? She tried her best. She tried to overcome her evil nature. Her apology to me and Andrew in the note is proof of that.
Her suicide, it was her way of apologizing for everything she did to use.
I guess this is where I say goodbye for the last time now. I wished things could’ve turned out better for her. All she had to do was to reach out for help. We loved her, she just couldn't accept that.
“You’re here too?” My brother says from behind.