you and I | Steve Harrington

Chapter one

26TH OF AUGUST 1984

I'm sitting on a hard plastic chair next to my mothers hospital bed, feeling her fingers around mine slowly loosen its grip.

she can barely keep her eyes open, as she tries to hold on for a little longer. "you are so beautiful, you know that?" she mumbles quietly. she looks so exhausted, but I know she does everything in her power to keep talking, to hold on.

"i wish i could see you graduate" she is so quiet, I can barely hear her.

the tears are stinging holes trough my eyelids as i try to not let them shed. not now, not infront of her, not when she needs me strong, she needs to believe that I can live on without her. but I don't think I can, not ever.

"only one year Avery" she says.

I swallow hard, trying to keep my voice from breaking, "and you will mom, you'll be sitting in that audience, healthy, and cheering me on"

she shakes her head, its a so small motion, but she can't do anything more. "i'm so, so tired" she can't keep her eyes open anymore, so she closes them. instead she gives my hand a little squeeze.

the sob i've been keeping in for so long escapes my lips, and fresh tears fall from my eyes.

"let me go, Avery"

now its my turn to shake my head as i whisper over and over "no,no,no"

"please"

and by that one word please her grip loosen entirely, I was holding her hand but she wasn't holding mine, not anymore, not ever again.

I can barely hear the long final beep from the monitor, the sound feels like its underwater, or maybe I am. it feels like i'm drowning.

i can hear the sound of screaming, someone begging my mom to come back. and I know that its me. I can hear myself sob and cry, but the sound feels like it's a lightyear away. like my mind is on mars, but my body is still on earth.

i'm falling apart.

◷ ◷ ◷

grief is a wierd thing i've said to myself over and over again the past month. i've always thought grief would work like it does in movies and books. it hurts like a son of a bitch at first, but you get over it soon enough.

but I don't think i'll ever get over it. And I don't want to get over it. I dont want to feel anything at all.

anything.

I never want to care for anyone ever again, because I don't want to go trough the pain all over again. i can't.

so i've blocked out the world.

Or tried at least

◷ ◷ ◷

I'm trapped in my living room.

I'm sitting in the middle of the larger couch, and my Dad and my Aunt sits on the smaller couch across from me. there is only a small table closing the distance.

Aunt Joyce is my mom's sister, I've not met her or her sons as much trough out my childhood. it were only on birthdays and special occasions. I have to admit that i'm surprised seeing her, the last time I met her and the sons was at the funeral two weeks ago. now she sits with a great distance to my dad, the awkward silence filling the room.

untill my dad broke it. "I don't have the money, time, or ablity to raise you, Avery"

only a few seconds ago my eyes were focused on my fidgeting fingers, but now my head snapped up so quick i'm lucky I didn't get a whiplash. I was stunned beyond words, so I kept my mouth shut.