P h o t o #59 - Tearing Down My Walls
"We held the funeral a few days later. A lot of kids from our school showed up, even a lot of relatives I'd never even met before flew in for it. Not too long afterwards, my mom decided to send me to live with my grandmother after I refused to return to school. A couple of names were thrown around and investigated, but we never really figured out if anyone pushed my sister to do what she did. They ruled it out as underlying depression due to our father's absense, but I knew better than to believe that was the entire story." I stared at my fingers as they trembled in my lap, shaken up as I relived the day through my wavering voice.
I'd come to terms with what happened long ago, but I never truly went through the motions of forgiving, of abandoning the wish to fill her place. The memory of my sister's corpse will forever be burned in the back of my eyelids, and that was just how it was going to be. No amount of therapy or counseling can change that, that's why I opted out of wasting my grandmother's money after moving here halfway through my freshman year, deciding to make myself useful by getting a job instead, secretly hoping keeping my hands busy will do the same for my mind.
The lump in my throat bobbed, trying to recall what happened after that day. It didn't take long for my mother to make the decision to fly me out a few states away, to drop me off at my grandmother's house in order to cope, to get away from her other ill daughter.
The last thing I remembered from my old home, the white paneled, cookie-cutter house at the end of a cul-de-sac, was throwing away my sister's gift, my belongings in grocery bags, my mother still mute.
I was aware that what I'd gone through was something that ruined lives, and for a time I was adament on allowing just that to happen, but now I realize I can not be shackled to my past.
This realization was the only thing keeping me from unraveling entirely.
I was honest through and through, but that doesn't mean I didn't leave out the finer details for my best interest. There was no reason for my friends to know that my mother dropped me off at my grandmother's because she couldn't stand to look at my face, reminding her of the child she lost, nor that I grew out my hair and never wore contacts in hopes of filling the void my sister left. They didn't need to hear about how I practically didn't start holding real, full conversations with people until I'd met them. They didn't need to understand that soon after I came here my mother tried reaching out again, and then my father too, and all I could do was shut them out for three years out of fear.
A sob filled the still air, and my heart lodged into my throat, thinking it was mine. The woman I'd stormed away from adjusted her glasses in the corner of my vision, peaking over the counter, as she'd heard the sound too. I'd almost forgotten we were in public, praying that my words hadn't left the empty waiting room.
A hand fell over mine, ceasing the slight quiver in my fingers. I studied its bubble gum pink nails, noticing just how hard they shook, how white its knuckles were.
Before I could even look up, Kayla pulled me close to her, my head upon her colar bone. She hid her face into my short black hair, the muscles in her neck bouncing as she cried. She apologized into my forehead, hot tears running off her cheeks and onto mine. My breath hitched.
Again she choked out a warbling apology, rubbing her hand along my shoulder. I grabbed at her other arm with my left palm, the one that wrapped around my front, biting my lip as she carried on. I couldn't recall every being comforted for what happened; the funeral was a blur of pitiful looks and stiff handshakes, and my mother was too distraught to offer more than an empty glance whenever I addressed her. My grandmother tried when I first arrived but I wouldn't let her, brushing her off and hiding in her spare guest room - my room - until the novelty wore off.
My eyes flitted around, taking in the grim looks upon everyone's faces. The position I was in left me without the ability to glance at Elliot at my right, and I wondered if that were for the best. For some odd reason I felt bare, naked in the face of my friends after telling them the truth.
For a girl so used to hiding behind layers upon layers of the walls she constructed, seeing the world after tearing them all down myself was a feeling I needed to get used to.
A large hand clamped down over my free one, the one I hadn't realized was balled into a fist upon my thigh. I craned my neck despite the weight of Kayla's cheek on my temple, meeting with a look of utter anguish etched into Elliot's features. His bangs swept over his eyes, but my particular angle exposed every emotion he held. He squeezed my fingers harder, so much so that I almost found it painful.
My eyes shot back down to my lap, a heavy emotion setting in my chest at my friends' reaction, but out of my peripheral vision I noticed something. Although we all sat in our own respective, uncomfortable hospital seats, we seemed a little closer than before. On the outskirts of our group, Cooper and Parker leaned into the area we occupied, Jonas rubbing his thumb on Kayla's knee as she cried into my hair. Elliot's broad shoulder knocked into mine, providing warmth and silent comfort.
Suddenly that heavy feeling faded into a dull, ache that was barely even there. I relished in the quiet around us as Kayla slowly called herself down. I sent small bursts of grasps up her arms as she switched between hiccups and sniffling, letting our a relieved sigh as I took in how fresh I felt finally getting all of that off my chest.
My worrying self didn't even have time to consider that maybe, in the end, they'd see me differently after learning what motivated my actions these past few years, but my unclouded mind knew that there was no way these friends of mine would think to do so.
I hugged Kayla a little tighter once she was reduced into small, patchy breaths, her free hand now wiping at her wet cheeks. We finally pulled out of our embrace, and I looked into puffy cocoa eyes and smiled up at my beautiful best friend.
"There's no need to feel sorry for me. I may have to live with this for the rest of my life, but that doesn't mean I can't make peace with it." I pushed a stray hair that peaked out of Kayla's ponytail behind her studded ear.
She clasped my shoulders into her hands, taking me aback, "Don't you ever keep something like that from us again, Emma. We want to be there for you, we want you to talk to us. What kind of friends are we if we can't even do that for you?" Her voice broke off and she hung her head, her hands slipping away.
I grabbed them and squeezed again, straightened my posture. "I'm sorry," I said, my own voice waverng just a bit as I looked around for the first time, registering everyone's melancholic eyes on me as they nodded in agreement with Kayla, "I-I'm sorry guys."
I swallowed hard as I forced away tears. Talking about what had happened was hardly enough to make me cry my eyes out anymore, but the moment I met with the forgiving, understanding faces surrounding me it was enough to choke me up.
'How long have I wished for this?' I wondered as everyone reached over and grabbed at my shaking hands. My eyebrows knitted together as I blinked the gloss out of my eyes, not wanting to unravel into a sniveling mess in front of the few receptionists only a few feet over.
Finally, after a long, nice while, Kayla and I pulled away from one another. She tried laughing off her runny mascara and red rimmed eyes as she wiped at her runny nose, "I must look like a mess." She forced a laugh as she kept wiping, then gave a frustrated sigh, "Looks like I'll need to take a trip to the bathroom."
She stood up from her seat next to mine, and I winced at how quickly Jonas did the same, "I'll go with you." He stated, clearing his throat, then noticed that all eyes were on him and flushed. My eyebrows rose, realizing it was the first time I'd seen him so bashful, "I-I have to go too."
Kayla gave him a look, then decided to let it slide. The two departed down the hall, but before they could get far enough to turn and disappear, I called out to them.
"Hey, guys?"
Everyone, including Kayla and Jonas, whipped their heads in my direction.
"Thank you."
Astonishment fluttered across their faces, but soon Kayla broke into a small smile and nodded, her hand tugging at Jonas' sleeve. I smiled back at them and they left without a word.
The rest of us sat in silence for a moment, trying to figure out how to approach getting out of the depressing atmosphere that swaddled us, until it was Parker's turn to get out if his seat, "Cooper, would you mind coming with me to the cafeteria?"
I turned, and took in the confused look on Cooper's face, uncertainty clouding his usually sparkling eyes as he stared up at his friend. Before he could answer though, Parker adjusted his glasses and looked to me, his features soft and kind, "Emma, are you hungry? We all ran out of the house without breakfast."
Surprisingly, even though I'd just revived the worst of my past all over again and awaited my mother's return after almost four years of running from her, my stomach rumbled at the thought. It wasn't my first time at this hospital; after all, I was the one who took my grandmother to her doctor's appointments here in the other wing of the building, so I knew my way around the cafeteria on days the tests went on longer than usual.
"M-Mac and cheese," I stuttered, licking my lips as the comfort food filled my mind. Even though most hospitals weren't known for their food, this one in particular had some pretty great cooks, "Could you get me a bowl of Mac and cheese please?"
Cooper stood upon his feet and nodded, determination sparking in his cocoa irises, "Okay, Emma. We'll be back in a few." He looked to Elliot, and for a split second a strange look crossed his face, but he quickly wiped it off, "You want anything?"
"A coffee would be nice."
Cooper quirked an eyebrow, "Black?"
Elliot smiled, but dipped his head to hide it. Parker walked over to cooper and turned back on us, "Okay, you two wait here and hold down the fort. We'll be back in a bit."
I nodded as the the two departed, and for some reason I found myself having a hard time comfortably watching them go. Suddenly the thought of being separated from everyone sank in, and somehow I was finding myself needy for their presence as I studied the white hospital walls enclosing me.
The stripling of my hand inmediately pulled me out of the spiral I was slowly going down, and I looked over to realize that, all this time, Elliot's hand had never left mine.
If circumstances had been different, I would have blushed as I remembered that he never let go of me even in don't of our friends, would have felt embarrassed at us being so bold in front of everyone, but all I could do was squeeze his palm back.
I was glad, more than anything, that I had him with me here. The thought was equally relieving as it was unnerving.
Elliot stared at me, forcing me to face him. His hazel eyes were glazed over, his forehead creased, "Is...Is that what those pills are for..?"
His question had taken me by surprise, and I almost wondered just what he was talking about, but the memory of me on the Appollo kitchen floor flailing my arms in an attempt to hide the pills that had cascaded out of my pocket from Elliot resurfaced. I nodded again, biting my lip.
He pulled my hand to his chest, clasping it with both palms now. The force pulled me closer to him, his hot breath fanning my face as I shivered, "This changes nothing, Emma. I won't look at you differently, I won't treat you differently." He paused, and I finally noticed the slight tremor in his breathing. He was shaken up by all of this, "The only difference will be that now I can finally, really be there for you."
The corners of my lips turned upward and I released a shaky breath. That was another thing I thought I only ever be able to wish for.
But the grin faded and I shook my head, letting the thick, wild curls atop my head fall in front of the lenses of my glasses. "I'm sorry you have to spend your birthday here." My leg bounced anxiously, my dirty tennis shoes tapping on white tile.
Elliot sputtered out a laugh, as if what I'd said was utterly ridiculous, "Better with you than with my dad." He stopped himself, rethinking what he said, "Sorry, this really isn't that great of a situation either." He looked around at the mediocre wall decor that made a sad attempt in brightening up the already blinding room. His eyes landed on the TV across the room, muted as it run through the usual news stories.
Silence blanketed us as we both stared at the balding news anchor report something we couldn't quite decipher with a blank look on his face. I licked my chapped lips, the dry, sterilized air finally starting to give me a headache, "Have you...talked to him since he..."
Elliot shook his head, never facing me, his grip still warm and tight around my hand, "No, and I don't plan to."
I pursed my lips, my gaze downward, "He shouldn't have done that, no matter how upset he is." I grimaced at the thought of being in Elliot's situation, having my work stollen from me by my own parent, and I turned in my seat to look at Elliot, "It's your life Elliot, don't you dare give into him. We'll definitely do something about this."
I prayed that what I was saying wasn't an empty promise, but the face that crossed Elliot's features gave me hope that there actually would be something we could do when up against the influential head of a large scale manufacturing group. I tried forcing the looming feeling away, but it seemed to want to stay for the ride.
"I know," Elliot responded, again sending a pulse of strength up my arm as his fingers closed around mine. In spite of myself, my heart summer salted in my chest, "I won't, not after everything that's happened. Thanks, Emma. Really."
I said nothing in return, wondering just how much I'd really helped by saying that. Helplessness washed over me and I blinked back the pitiful tears that jumped into my eyes as I replayed how sorrowful Elliot sounded.
Shifting in my seat I adjusted my position, giving myself enough space to lean over and lay my head upon the soft fabric covering Elliot's shoulder. I pulled up my legs, tucking my limbs into myself as my eye lids fluttered close.
The muscles in his shoulder tensed under my cheek but quickly relaxed right after, and not a moment later I felt him shift as well. The sudden, light weight atop my head told me all I needed to know.
Memories sparked behind my closed lids, familiar colors whirling around their rims. I remembered the many times Ellie and I had fallen asleep in this position all the way back to when we were in car seats on our way back from the park. Our limp heads would always find each other's shoulders, and whenever our car hit a big bump it wake both of us up. We'd look at each other through clouded, drowsy eyes and grin, knowing exactly what happened, then return to our positions and repeat it all over again.
To this day I still couldn't believe that I, her older sister and the one who should've protected her, the one who should've known her best, didn't see the signs. Didn't know what to do. Didn't even know she was so miserable.
Didn't know she, my little sister who was somehow sweeter, prettier, more mature than me, was capable of taking her life away with something that allowed me to normally live mine.
I clutched Elliot's hand harder, shuddering as I remembered taking those same pills just an hour before. My adrenaline calmed once Elliot pulled me closer into the crook of his neck, so close that the smell of his shampoo filled my senses.
I released a breath I hadn't known I was even holding, feeling Elliot just barely flinch as it tickled the side of his jaw. I was too wrapped up in my sister's memory to take too much notice.
'Please don't be mad at me,' I pleaded as I pictured her once smiling face, one I used to do everything in my power to make appear, morph into the look of despondence she wore during the last months of her life, 'I'm so sorry.'
For a long, long time I've feared that I had no right to seak out happiness after what happened to my sister, believing I'd anger her if I allowed myself to act my age, but now I wondered if it was really okay for me to be normal. As I leaned against the boy who captivated all of my feelings, waiting to face my mother again, I wondered if I'd be allowed to live my life like it should be.
"...It's okay."
The second the outside world and its many noises faded back in, I jolted out of my thoughts and away from Elliot, who had been sitting silently all this time. If he didn't move the exact moment he did my forehead would've slammed into his chin, but I never even noticed that fact.
I whipped my head to where we stood almost an hour before, watching as the woman at the front desk spoke to someone as she tucked a graying auburn lock behind her ear. My eyes followed hers, meeting the owner of the voice that had pulled me back to reality.
I was up on my feet before I could stop myself, my chair skidding on the floor behind me from the force. The honey-haired woman, who was immersed in a conversation full of her weary apologies as the receptionist brushed them away as she leaned over and filled out a few forms, jerked her head up at the sudden noise that filled the quiet waiting room.
She gripped at her long, navy blue winter coat, small ringlets of light curls falling from her thick, low bun. Worry lines creased her face as she turned her head in my direction, and her warm eyes widened into two identical saucers.
My body froze up under her astonished gaze. She hadn't changed one bit since I'd last seen her. Still tall and slender, still somehow always fashionably forward, still beautiful despite her steadily rising age.
The familiar features quickly faded as my eyes registered her full form. I could now see that that same willowy body was due to weight loss, her bronze eyes sunken and cheeks hallowed. Wisps of gray touched ever so slightly at her roots, the usual flounce in her waves dull as some peaked out of her up do. Long, black boots hid her boney, shaking legs as she rooted herself to her spot. Anxiety paled her face, exhaustion evident in her limp pink lips.
I didn't know what to expect. I tried wondering how I'd feel in her shoes; arriving and meeting her daughter after leaving her behind, in the past, then I realized there's no doubt in my mind that I'd never commit the same thing. Who was to make the first move? Was I expected to take action as the one who was to give forgiveness, or was it my mother, the one who had begun these chain of events in the first place?
I looked inside myself, really observing the person I was now. She had no knowledge of who her only remaining daughter was, and maybe had she stayed with me I wouldn't be who I was at all. I left her an ill, pessimistic little girl, and now I pondered if I was truly the opposite. The child in me wanted to see her reaction, but the new person that was reborn from that child through the experiences I've had knew that that was the least of my worries.
My finger nails dug into my palm as I shifted my weight, shaking out the lead that had accumulated in my calves. My stomach dropped even farther with each spike of my pulse as it rang in my ears, my body readying itself to take - what felt like - its first step.
Shoes echoed against the pristine tile under us, and my eyes could barely refocus as they watched a figure dash towards me only to stop a single foot away.
Trembling, hot breath blew from my mother's mouth, one hand quivering as it reached for me, the other doing the same as it fell upon her parted lips.
Tears brimmed in her eyes, and my heart hammered, not expecting this emotional reaction whatsoever.
"Your hair..."
But I stopped her, meeting her hand halfway and lowering it, looking sternly into her eyes. This was not the time for a family reunion, and the look on her face had almost made me forget.
"Mom."
I blinked, then directed my gaze down the hall. I was reminded why I was here now, and it definitely wasn't for either of our sakes. Anything that didn't regard my grandmother could wait.
Confusion flashed across her features, almost seeming hurt by my reaction, but with a quick glimpse behind her an unspoken understanding flooded the atmosphere. A single nod from her was all the confirmation I needed.
She went to turn, her hand already around my wrist, but I anchored myself in place and turned before she even had time to stutter. Elliot met my eyes, panic in his face, his shoulders tensed as he stood to his full height. I moved out of my mother's weak grasp, and I believed that her silence was enough to tell me she was walking on enough eggshells to allow me to do what I want.
I took up Elliot's limp hand from his side, my thumb tracing over the veins that protruded from its back before taking it in mine. Without a word, he stepped up next to me. My eyes softened and he gave my hand yet another one of his comforting squeezes.
It went without saying; I needed his support more than anything.
I returned my gaze to my mother, who did a good job at shielding her shock as she snuck a barely noticeable glance at Elliot. She sent another small nod my way, her eyes revealing only business, before swiveling on the wedge of her boot and leading the way to my grandmother's room, Elliot and I following close behind, never even sparing a breath in fear that the subtle noise might just be enough to shatter the unbelievable world around us.
***
Wow...yet another month has gone by without a chapter...sorry?
As I mentioned before, blame the daily papers and one-after-another projects I'm assigned, sometimes a girl just wants a good nap!
But, while I'm here, I'd also like to thank you all for the continuous and even growing support I'm receiving on this story! Even if I haven't had time to reply to comments and messages, I want you to know that I've read and smiled from each and every one. I'm glad you all enjoy my story!
Thanks for your patience, I appreciate it!