||Charlotte Robin Dun|| First Person||
The covers are bunched up in my fist, the dark fabric encased in my tightly woven fingers making my hands tremble with emotion and my knuckles whiten. My eyes are hard and unmoving, staring straight ahead at the wall across from me. Clothes spill out of my closet like a trash can overturned by a raccoon, my clean laundry mixing with the dirty clothes. My shirt smells of stale saltine crackers and just the slightest bit of sweat considering that I haven't changed it and taken a shower in the past week. My pajama shorts have a maple syrup stain from breakfast, and though my legs are freezing cold right now, I don't have the energy to get up and change- even thinking about doing so takes a toll on me- because I was simply mentally exhausted.
Jordan, my other brother, came back recently from vacation after the news broke. Ashley and Abigail were distraught over it, and for once, those three are actually making some sort of an effort to converse with me, mainly because Mom is petrified that I might just go insane from this. I guess they're a tad bit too late on that one, considering that I probably have gone the slightest bit crazy- everyone already treats me like it.
I close my eyes slowly, fearfully, before widening them immediately. I can't close my eyes. I can't sleep.
All I see is Ryan.
He's there in all the ways I wish he wasn't. He's gone now- he left and abandoned me a week ago and he still has the audacity to plague my mind with his memories and haunt me. Because God forbid that I forget about that night he was shot to death in front of me and so help me Lord that I try to block it out.
I squeeze the covers between my fingers even tighter, if physically possible, and let out a shivering gasp. My eyes are burning and I can feel the tears springing forward before I can even bother to attempt to stop them. This sempiternal feeling of dread and loss stings my heart, and I burst out into tears within seconds, pressing the blanket over my mouth in an attempt to muffle the pain.
"I really, really like you," he whispers breathlessly, his hands hot to the touch as they brush feverishly across my clothed body. The world is twisting and sending me reeling, pressing against him. I know that this won't mean anything to him tomorrow, but this will mean everything to me. I'll forget everything else but remember the immediate persistent touch of his and the rough kisses pressed to my mouth in the heat of the moment that was inspired by the alcohol.
I can't not cry at this point, because Ryan means- meant the world to me. He was the one that constantly believed and me and was my number one supporter- he never put me down or lost faith in my capabilities. He always wanted the best for me and continuously pushed me forward, never letting me lose my way because I was his best friend and he was mine. We were ethereal- so delicate and strangely perfect for one another. It was simple like that with him- when I was just his best friend and I didn't have to worry about anything else because Ryan was simple like that.
And now he's...
A goner.
I toss the covers over my head and shove my fist into my hot mouth, clamping down over my knuckles as the inevitable tears continue to rush the barricades even as I try to block the dam and pull up the draw bridge. With my eyes squeezed shut, I sob and sob and sob because nothing makes sense anymore and nothing is worth it. Life is but a walking shadow that we're doomed to follow, and then when the curtains close and our time is up, what are we left with? Tell me, what's left? Because I don't want to be alone in this world, but it seems like the last person that ever captured me in such a riveting manner has fallen off the narrow path that he was so desperate to keep me on. It's dark and I can't see ahead, but I don't know if I want to keep walking ahead and leave the place I'm stuck at. Because the future is unknown and daunting while the past is so comforting and revealed.
I keep at it, the whole questioning my existence and crying thing for as long as I can. Eventually, my older sister Ashley knocks the door and requests permission to come in- to tell me to shut up or comfort me, I wouldn't know because I yelled at her to fuck off. Abigail is still younger than me by a year, so she doesn't attempt the older sibling roles that Abby and Jordan are playing. Jordan pleaded multiple times to let him in, mainly because he feels like a negligent brother in comparison to Josh, but I let neither in and have made light work to jam my computer chair under the doorknob and twist the lock. Who needs food when my heart is being impaled by sorrow and my stomach feels like lead? Who needs physical connection with other human beings when you're aware of the imminent threat that they're just going to leave you? Because here's the sad thing; here lies the thing that will wrench your hear out and gut you- everyone dies in the end.
It's all of my fault that I feel this way- it's my fault that I'm doubled over my knees under the covers with a hand jammed into my mouth with sobs making my body convulse violently. I put myself in this situation by getting attached to Ryan- I put myself in this predicament of reliance that hasn't done anything but screw me over in the long run, because look at me now; I lost my best friend and it feels like I'm dying myself.
"Robin," I hear Ashley knocking again, and I don't have the energy to yell at her to go away. "Robin, open up, please." I bite my knuckles harder than before, still not breaking any skin, and try my best to slow down the rapture of crying. The knocking is louder now, more insistent. "Open the door, Robin, please."
Humans don't work this way, right? Are we meant to live alone and in solitude because we're terrified of the undeniable truth that everyone will vanish one day? Or are we meant to take advantage- take pride in what is sure to die, because that's just the way it is? I'm not sure.
"Robin," it's Josh now. "Open the door?"
I shrug my covers off of my body and suck in a sharp breath of stale air, grabbing a black hoodie that's lying on the carpeted floor and pulling it over my stained t-shirt. I throw my legs over the side of the bed and touch the carpeted flooring lightly with the tip of my toes, testing myself by pushing my self up to my feet and leaning against the wall, panting for air from the sudden movements. I shuffle myself carefully to my bedroom door, pulling the chair our from under the doorknob before twisting the lock and hesitantly opening the door. The second I do, Ashley is throwing her arms around me, making me stagger backwards in surprise. When I look up behind her, I find Josh leaning against the door frame, watching the two of us.
"Robin," Ashley pulls back and studies my tired, sick, and paling face as she cups my cheeks in her warm hands. I lean into my big sister's touch, mainly because it isn't a recurring event for her to pay so much attention to me. "Robin, hey, Robin."
"I can hear you." I mutter, turning on my heel and marching through the sea of clothes and miscellaneous objects on my bedroom floor before I climb back into bed. Ashley shakes her head and tiptoes her way through the war zone of clothes whipped around and yanked out of closets because of how frustrated and hollow I felt inside. Ashley sits on the side of the bed and stares at me, so I make it a point to fixate my glare on the wall across from my bed. But then Josh is sitting at the foot of my bed and his pale blue hair is getting in the way of my fixed spot immediately.
"Come here," Ashley pulls my head to her chest and hugs me to her body, rubbing soothing circles in my back that dull the pain and make it all the more noticeable. I try my best to hold the tears in, biting my lip and focusing my eyes towards the ceiling, but when Josh asks me if I'm feeling any better, the sob of pain shoves itself out and I'm breaking.
"I'm not okay." I cry out. "Ryan is... gone. He left me and that's so selfish of him... Why do things like this happen?" I'm blubbering and making existential inquiries that I know that neither Josh nor Ashley have the answers to, but they listen to me as the stomach in my mind heaves and vomits violently words that have so much meaning but so little at the same time.
It feels good to get it out.
-/::\-
Short I know, but I'm technically done school guys!!
-Stay Classy, Young Volcanoes
•LeaveNoWordsUnspoken