I tossed and turned. The darkness was everywhere. My insomnia was catching up and even in my half-conscious state I knew that. The old metal frame creaked with every toss my body made. The harsh tightening of my chest forced my unwilling body to shoot upward so I sat on the bed. In out, in out, in out. My breath was in short puffs and pants. My airways tightened further; I felt as though I was choking. I inhaled deeply. A hand, pale even amidst the pitch dark room, clutched at my contracting throat. My long fingers scratched at the skin as if to create an opening. It was all too much. The inadequate living space I was currently in was on the far end of the house.
Alone. I endured it all alone.
Just one. One. One is all you need. My thoughts were racing. Make it go away! I couldn’t. I couldn’t do that again. Not after her. I remembered it all. I remembered every detail of that night. She made me promise her to do this so I wouldn’t suffer like she did. For her. I began to feel nauseous. Whether it was caused by those recent events or the recollection of that night I didn’t know. Maybe it was both. I could feel bile rising in my throat, it was burning, acidic. I felt blindly for the small rubbish bin before spewing whatever my empty stomach had formed into it.
It’ll make it all better. She won’t know. Come on, no one’s here to stop you. STOP IT! I can’t…
I sat down on the squeaky bed trying to tune it all out. I could feel my heart rate increasing. The sweat drenched my t-shirt. My hands twitched, my sub-conscience knowing what it wanted; what I couldn’t allow it to have. This time it was worse than before. Excruciating. The tremor of my barely existent frame was noticeable to any onlookers. There were none. She was the only one. No one anymore. I roughly dragged my skeletal hand under my eye to dispose of the one stray tear. She didn’t want me to cry for her. She wanted me to be stronger than she was. But you’re just like she was. You’ll never change. Yes I will!
Boom! I jumped at the sudden crash of what was the door colliding with the adjacent wall. I should have been accustomed to it by then. Nothing ever changes. ‘Nothing ever changes’. All the more reason, you said it yourself. Now, let’s go help ourselves to what we need. Nothing ever changes because there’s never any effort put into a change. Does not mean that nothing will ever change. I got out of my head and back to my reality. My reality being that I wanted out. Out of that room; out of that life. Out. It was only a matter of time before they came upstairs. I always gave in when they did.
The footfalls of the person, likely intoxicated, thudded on the staircase. From the noise I could tell that they fell over at some point. A string of profanities rang through the hollow structure. I knew that was my moment. My time; my turn for change. For her. I need it! Give it to me now! I avoided thoughts of what was happening to me and strained my shaky body to find my backpack. It was small, containing my few valuables and favourite belongings. That was a risk, I knew it. I needed it done. I used all my energy to push open my room window. I felt my headache starting.
Where are we going? I struggled but made the small jump from the first storey window. Impact with the dead grass below left a dull thud. It was somewhat high and the landing took a toll on my weak body. Turn back! We need them. They give us what we want; what we need! You can’t do this! We don’t need anyone. We need to move on from that, we are better than that. My chest was still tight and my heart still racing from the need and the sudden rush. I could hear them. They were in my room. They were looking for me, I knew it. But I had other plans. I had to step away from all that. For her.
I picked myself off the dirt. I dusted my worn out jeans, snatched my backpack off the floor and began to walk. People stared as I walked by. Everyone stared. Why? Why were they staring? What was wrong with me? We need it, go back! Where are you taking us? We have nowhere to go, we know of no one who cares. And the others care? They do nothing but help us break ourselves even more than we are broken. They don’t care. They didn’t care then, they don’t care now, they didn’t care when Brianna died! My head was spinning. I was still looking around, restless. I continued down the path. It was getting later. It would soon be nightfall.
You don’t even know where to go. You’re so stupid! Back home, they took care of us in the best way. Stupidity cost Brianna her life, learn from her mistakes. I couldn’t stand it any longer. Voices were everywhere, trees had eyes. Brianna. Wherever I looked I saw her. I wanted a bridge. I needed to find a bridge. I had to end it. Think about what you’re about to do. Think about Brianna. Be stronger than that. For her.
I halted my walk. I was still trembling. I still strained to take in a drag of oxygen. I still wanted it. But I didn’t need it. The need for the better. That’s what I needed. Just like Brianna wanted all along. Like I promised her I would.
I looked up some ten minutes later and found myself in front of a great big building. The hospital. No, no, no! Can’t you see you’re making a mistake? Do you really want to do this? Life is not a mistake. The sterile white walls, the gurneys in the halls. I made my way past it all. The receptionist looked up and gasped.
“My dear child, are you okay?” she was a grandmotherly woman. She seemed like she sincerely cared; I wasn’t able to trust just yet. I stood there. My airways had relaxed slightly so speech was possible.
“I want them out. I need it gone,”
“What is it you need out and gone, dear?”
“The voices. I don’t like them. They don’t like each other. I want them out. I need the want gone. Compressed power is all it is. In all colours, shapes, sizes. I don’t need them,” I spoke in broken sentences. The alarmed receptionist called for a nurse and a wheelchair. I sat down, it was a relief. The rehabilitation unit was next for me. It meant everything to me to have my life back. To be happy and content. To be strong. Brianna was - is - strong. I had to be strong too. For me.
