Wings

December 16, 2013

The final school bell of the semester rang, and I could not be more glad. Even though I hardly showed up to school, I still was glad that it was officially done. Finals were over, we had a three week break, and the best of all, my sister was coming home. The hospital was allowing her to return home under the condition that she return weekly for therapy, and she did not hesitate to consent. If I was her though, I would choose a hospital over returning home. Either way, she would still be in a hostile environment full of distress.

I had spent more time with Chris, even extending so far as to spending nights at his house. His father and siblings had no problem with seeing me daily, but Cynthia was still attempting to thaw in her demeanor towards me. I appreciated the effort, and knew that it was the best I was going to receive for the foreseeable future.

While my relationship with Chris continues to bloom, so does the guilt I harbor in my ribcage. Adam would be so angry, I think as I hold Chris' hands in mine. He said that I was always his, I remembered as Chris called me his darling. His heart stopped beating six months ago, I repeated constantly as I felt Chris' pulse against my cheek. I was stuck in an endless rut of guilt. It was an inverse relationship with the two men- as I loved Chris more, I missed Adam more. As I loved Adam more each day, I grew distant from Chris for long moments. I was better off alone where I could hurt no one but my own wrists.

I laid on Adam's bed, staring at the ceiling, when there was a tentative knock on the door. I told them to come in, and I propped myself up when I saw who it was. Laura Bretter cautiously entered the room, the first time entering since her son's untimely death.

She sat gingerly on the edge of the bed, looking around her. We sat in silence as we took in our surroundings, Adam's life in display. Everything in the room was a symbol of Adam, from the withered flowers on his wooden vanity to the watch that had stopped ticking in the desk drawer. They were all cruel reminders that while we continued to grow, Adam continued to shrink away.

"Did you know?" Laura finally asked. She turned to me, her eyes becoming clouded. "Did he ever tell you that he was so sad?"

I shook my head. "I knew he was sad. I just didn't ever think he would do what he did."

Laura nodded, staring into nothingness. "He was afraid of blood," she said softly. "He couldn't play violent video games or watch graphic movies. He always said that it made his heart hurt."

"That's the thing," I responded. "He learned to fall in love with the pain." As have I.

Laura nodded, surveying the room a final time. She was a broken woman, a figment of her former self. Did she ever suspect that she would feel such tremendous loss? Did she know that she would endure incredible heartache? If I had known the future, I would have ended my life before Adam did. That way, I never would have to live a minute without him. So far, I had lived nearly 260,000 minutes without Adam's embrace, and each had become more painful than the last.

The sound of the doorbell cut through the silence that haunted the room, and Laura slowly stood up. As she turned to leave, her eyes fixed on the door frame. It had been lined in pencil marks, remnants of years that were long gone. Adam; December, 2002. Adam; April 2009. Adam; March 2011. Adam; July 2013. Laura ran her fingers over the last mark, reaching over her head to do so. She placed her hand on the door frame one final time before coming downstairs.

I finally allowed the thoughts to escape past the walls I had erected in my brain, and my heart momentarily felt as though it were beating again. I did not wish to feel such terrible things or think such terrible thoughts, but I couldn't stop them. They simply came anyway.

"Sydney," Laura called. 'The door's for you." I hesitantly got up, maneuvering out of Adam's room. I stood in the doorway, placing my body against the frame. I did as I had always been instructed, placing my heels against the wall and lifting my chin into the air before marking the place where my head met the pencil. I made a dark mark, turning around to see where it had landed. I was as tall as Adam had been when he was twelve. I stood on the tips of my toes, reaching a foot from where Adam's last mark had been placed, and kissed the graphite-covered wall. For a moment, I almost felt as though Adam's lips had met mine. But in reality, in all senses of the word, I was alone. I added the date to my piece in the gallery of Adam's life, then began to walk down the stairs.

I had begun to turn my blade over and over in my pocket. I didn't think I could handle seeing Chris at the moment. Not like this, and certainly not where my Adam had lived. He respected that fact, and knew that I would likely never change that feeling. I had only made it down five steps before I saw who was standing outside of the door, his hands fidgeting in his pockets, before I flew down the stairs. I jumped into his arms and began to weep, not caring that Laura was watching with a smile.

"I know, I know, Syd," my brother mumbled into my hair, rubbing my back as he hugged me. I could see Emma over his shoulder and we exchanged smiles. She gazed at the step while she pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, but when she looked up, she had tears in her eyes. My sister had her hair back in her trademark braid, and the color had returned to her once pale eyes. I thought I would never see them this blue again.

I continued to cry into my brother's shoulder, not caring who saw or who heard. And for once, my tears were not out of sadness or pain. For once, I had begun to thaw.

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Hi lovely people (:

Wait I actually made something happy take place??? WHAT???

Hope you all are having a great week, love you all

Picture of Emma attached