Runaway ✔

037 • Dana

All Dana could do, was stare at her brother. It felt like her brain registered the words in random order, not able to put it in a sentence. 

Her mother.

Was dead. 

Very slowly the realization landed. 

Her mother. 

Dead. 

All of a sudden, out of the blue. 

"I... I don't get it," she stammered. "What happened?"

From the corners of her eyes she noticed that Juice put his arm around her shoulders, but she didn't feel his touch. As if he was a ghost. 

No, as if she was a ghost. She could see herself standing in the room, her shoulders slumped, her eyes wide of disbelief. 

"She suffered from heart condition since a long time. Last year they even had to resuscitate her."

Dana said nothing. Kept staring, into the void. 

Her mother had almost died once, and she'd never known.

Nobody had told her.

"Come, take a seat," Juice said softly. 

Without having a say in it, her feet moved with him, to the couch. She sat down, bent over, leaning with her elbows on her knees. Someone tried to hand her a glass of water, but she couldn't raise her hand. 

My mom. 

Dead. 

Juice took the glass. His other hand had to be somewhere on her back, but she didn't feel it. 

💀

Dana kept sitting on that couch, staring, silent. It became elf o'clock, twelve o'clock. The men gave her hugs she didn't feel before they left. Juice sat next to her as if he was a statue. As did Happy, in front of her. She thought he was looking at her, maybe even talking to her, but his face was a blur. 

"I'll get you to bed." Juice's voice was the only one she registered, although she didn't care about his words. To bed, not to bed... it wouldn't change a damn thing.

"Can you walk?"

Dana shrugged. She got at least the impression she was doing so, it was impossible to tell if she really moved. 

"Come on." 

Juice lifted her from the couch and carried her away. Dana let him. She vaguely realized that it wasn't her own room they entered. Juice laid her down on his bed and took off her shoes. Dana rolled over, her face away from him. A single tear glided down her cheek while she stared at the wall. 

💀 

"I haven't talked to her in five years."

Her voice sounded soft. She didn't even know if there was anybody around. It had to be midnight. "The last thing I said to her, was that she was a retarded cunt who should mind her own business."

She heard a movement behind her. An arm glided across her side, and a hand fold around hers. 

"I'm so sorry. I dunno what to say."

Dana didn't answer. There wasn't much to say anyway. It just all felt so surreal. There had been many times she'd thought she would never see her mother again, but not because her mother would suddenly die. 

"Hold me," she whispered. "I feel... nothing. It scares me, Juice." Her voice cracked. "As if I am fading."

The mattress sagged a little when Juice moved towards her. He wrapped both of his arms around her and pulled her back against his chest. "Is this better?"

"Yea," she lied. 

 💀  

Dana kept pondering all night. Had mom thought about her, right before she died? Had she cursed the daughter who had cast off her own mother? She felt so ashamed she wanted to free herself from Juice's arms, she didn't deserve his consolation. But she didn't move, the last thing she wanted was explaining why she hated herself. She wanted to keep the real Dana secret from him, for as long as she could.

Now and then she wept quietly. There was no maddening loss, as a normal daughter or son would experience. There was only disgust, because she'd been such a monster who'd been far too self-involved. Oh, how she wished she could turn back time, do things differently... But she couldn't. She had to live with the things she'd done. Others had to live with the things she'd done... or die with the memories of them.