Life Without You

7

"There is two types of tired, I suppose. One is a dire need of sleep, the other is a dire need of peace."

* * *

When I first lost my sister it was hard for me to remember she was gone. I'd make french toast and forget that I was only supposed to make one. I'd open my phone to text her a question and then realize she was no longer around to answer. I'd call her name in the empty apartment and she would never respond back. And a part of me loved those moments. The ones where she wasn't gone anymore. Everything was normal. But they would end as soon as they came and I'd have this overwhelming sense of grief and guilt hit me. It would knock the wind out of me, almost like I was going to fall over.

Now I don't get those moments as often. Especially now that I've moved in with my dad but every once in a while I will. Usually in the morning. Like when you wake up and forget where you are. It's like that. I wake up and I think I'm back in Philly. For just a second I think that Amber is curled up beside me. We had to share a room, but neither of us minded at all. We'd spend hours at night just talking about pointless things and we wouldn't remember half the things we said in the morning because we were barely awake as we spoke.

And then the moment would be over. I'd turn to my side and all I would see is the pastel yellow sheets my father had put on my bed before I arrived. That's when the feeling comes. It hits me like a punch to the gut and I have to lay there for a second before I can get out of bed.

It's the worst and best part of my day.

And it was right then that I was recovering from that very lapse in reality.

As soon as I was able to sit up and my heart stopped racing I pulled my phone off my nightstand. I only had two numbers in my phone. I had deleted all my contacts from back in Philly. One was my dad. I called the other one.

"Good morning, Sierra." I could tell he was smiling just from the sound of his voice.

"Do you have drugs?" I asked.

"Of course. Do you want to come over?" I sighed with relief. I knew he would have something.

"I don't have a car. Can you pick me up?"

"Yeah, send me your address and I'll be there as soon as possible." I agreed before hanging up and heading over to my closet. I grabbed a pair of black leggings and a gray sweatshirt before curling up in my bed and waiting for Alex to send me a text letting me know he was here. I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I knew I was waking up to a knock on my door. "Sierra?" A soft voice asked as my door creaked open.

I blinked a few times to clear my vision before I sat up and looked to see who was saying my name. "Yeah, Dad?"

"There's someone at the door for you. He says his name is Alex." He looked at me nervously and I realized he probably didn't like the way Alex looked. With his long hair and his tattoos. Alex screamed trouble.

"Oh, okay." I said before getting out of bed. Dad didn't move out of the doorway.

"So he's a friend of yours? From school?"

I nodded my head but he still didn't move. "Do you need something?" I asked as I crossed my arms over my chest.

His eyes trailed over me. He looked concerned but I didn't understand why. He never used to care and now all the sudden he wanted to act like a dad. "No," he shook his head. "Have fun." He moved out of my way and I hurried down the stairs. I headed for the front door where Alex stood. He smiled when he saw me, the same cheeky grin he always had, before he led me out to his car. Alex talked throughout the whole card ride. Something about how annoying his parents were and how he couldn't wait to move out. I wasn't really listening, but I was happy he wasn't asking any questions because I wasn't sure if I even knew the answers.

When we got to his house he pulled into a long driveway that led to a large colonial style house with brick all around it. My sister used to say that was how you could decide if someone was rich or not. Most people could only afford brick on the front side of their house and there was siding on all the other sides. But brick on all four sides? You had to have a lot of money to do that. Amber and I used to drive around and look for houses with brick all the way around. I imagined what her face would look like if I told her I was friends with someone who lived in one.

Alex led me up the steps to his front door before fumbling with his keys and opening the door. "Home sweet home." He said, bitterly as he placed his keys on the table and spread his arms open gesturing to the large room. He walked across the room and threw open a door that seemed to lead to the basement. I silently followed him down. The basement wasn't finished which was surprising but I also kind of liked it. The floors were cement but there was a large rug. It was green and yellow which usually would be an odd choice but it somehow looked good with the leather L-shaped couch and funky lamps. There was a TV that hung on the wall with a paused episode of a show I had never heard of on it. I watched as Alex picked up the orange ceramic bong off of the coffee table in front of the couch. He smiled as he watched me examine it. "You like it?" he asked. "I made it in art class."

I raised my eyes at him. "Yeah? And how did that work out for you?"

He laughed. "I said it was my 'artistic view on a flower vase' and she had no choice but to give me an A."

That made me laugh and Alex turned back to his handmade bong. I watched carefully at how Alex lit the bong and how he stuck his lips inside when he smoked from it. When he was done he lifted his head up and the smoke filled the air around us. He handed the bong and the lighter over to me and I did exactly what he did. When I released the smoke it floated around me and it reminded me of when I smoked cigarettes with Amber. Somehow the smoke flying around her face with her rosy cheeks and curly hair made her look so cool. I remembered being jealous of that, of how cool she looked all the time. Now as I looked back on that it all seemed so childish.

I handed the bong back to Alex and we passed it back and forth before the high started to kick in. My mind became fuzzy and an easy smile had found itself on my face. "You're pretty cool, Sierra." Alex's voice slurred.

"You're cool too, Alex. You know? I used to know someone who looked just like you, back in Philly." I said, sitting up to look at him. Sometime during the night Alex decided he was more comfortable on the ground and he had been laying on the green and yellow area rug that looked really itchy for about fifteen minutes now.

"I bet he wasn't as cool as me though."

I laughed as I shook my head. "He was my sister's boyfriend. He was an asshole."

"I have a cousin from Philadelphia but he's not an asshole, just an idiot."

For some reason that made me giggle even though I knew it wasn't that funny. Alex started to laugh and we couldn't stop. I rolled on to the itchy carpet next to Alex as we laughed, clutching our stomachs and tears streaming down our faces. 

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