Pretty Little Black Parade

Sleep

Sleep

You’d think after spending months in a hospital, being back home would be a relief. You’d think I’d curl up in my own bed and sleep well. No. I lay in bed, the sun gone, thinking about how much easier it would be to be back into my hospital bed right now. My brother finally went home and my mom’s camped out on the couch. I just want to be alone. I don’t want them to walk in tomorrow morning, having breakfast ready, try to wake me up to say goodmorning and find my body cold, pale and dead. In the hospital they’re used to it.

This was a total mistake, I decided. I should go back. Go to hospice. I don’t need to die here. At least in the hospital there’s no mess. Plus, there are cute nurses to watch.

I swing my feet to the side, trying to convince myself to get up to get my phone. I don’t know who’d I’d call to take me back. Probably Wes. Or call 911 and fake a massive internal bleed, I don’t know. But by the time I stand up, dizzily, I hear the soft sound of my doorbell, asking me to buzz someone up. I look at my cell phone, wincing to see the time. 10:54pm. But the time isn’t what catches my eye as much as the beautiful little pixilated image I’ve been dying to see this entire disease. 

“One missed call. Aria. 10:04”

My heart beats so fast I think I’ll probably drop dead right then and there. The warm feeling of blood rushes to my head, my palms get moist, and my eyes do the same. Studded, I stand for a second frozen. The buzz noise comes again. I wait a few most seconds to see if it woke my mom up, to see if she’ll get it. She doesn’t. so I make my way to the front door, slowly. Is it her?

I try not to get my hopes up.

‘It was a pocket call,’ I convince myself on the way there.

‘This isn’t Aria.’ I tell myself, as I pass my sleeping mother, totally whipped out on the pull out couch. She was always such a heavy sleeper.

‘This is not Aria trying to get in. it’s probably Wes.’

I stare at the intercom, pressing my finger on it. ‘She can’t possibly be here. She hates me.’

“Hello?” I say into the intercom, and immediately curse myself for not clearing my throat first. I don’t want sound like I’m dying, even if I am.

“Ezra?”

The sound… 

That sound…

The familiar melody of the way Aria’s voice flies through the air. Soft, but fierce. Calm and collected and all the while needy and lonely. Sweet and innocent, determined and whole. 

It takes me longer than it should have, but I come to and reply, “Hey, Aria.”

“Can I come up?” She says, sounding close to tears. 

“Of course.” This reply doesn’t take me any time at all. I buzz her in. I move as fast as I can, walking dead, to the bathroom and do a five second hair and teeth brush, and search around for my deodorant, and finally zip back to my room and trade in my old comfy Pj’s the ones I knew Aria always thought were cute. I wish I had time for a complete make over before  she made her way up to my apartment. Out of breath, I shove my dirty clothes under my bed and make the bed. 

The light knock on my door, as expected as it was, startles me. I tip toe past my still sleeping mom, and take a large breath before opening the door. She stands there, shorter and tinier than I remember. 

"Hey Ezra." She says quietly.

"Hi. Come on in." 

I open the door wider and lead her into my room.