The next Friday was a positively normal day. Or it appeared to be that way. Holden was supposed to be coming home that night, which I was admittedly pretty excited for. I think that was the main reason the day passed so quickly. I think if it hadn't have been for that, the day would have been agonizingly slow. It was the day before Thanksgiving Break, which gave us an entire week off.
I came home that day to an empty house. Mocha was meowing from my room. I smiled to myself and rushed up the stairs, placing my school bag on the floor of my room. I looked around my room searching for Mocha, but she wasn't there. She meowed again.
She was in the bathroom. I walked the few steps it took to get there. It was only a few steps, but in hindsight it took forever. Time is relative, right? So when the most influential thing happens, you will only ever remember it in slow motion. Because you want to retain every detail.
The pills. They were scattered on the floor, in every crevice. The bottle must have been huge. From far away, it might have looked like the floor was white, like snow was covering it, when in reality it was nothing like that.
I don't remember calling the ambulance. I don't remember getting in the ambulance with my brother and letting them drive me to the hospital. But I do remember waiting. It must have taken quite some time for the people at the hospital to get a hold of my parents because it was dark when they arrived, my mother in tears. I didn't know what to say to them. I might have been able to prevent it, had I stayed in my brother's room that night and talked more. My head felt dizzy and light. I felt like gravity was taking it's toll on my sanity. I kept waiting to pass out, but I never did. I thought about how the most fitting place to pass out would be the hospital. I thought about my near-death experience. But mostly I thought about what life would be like without my brother.
Finley caught my shoulder as I slumped forward. I didn't know when she got there, I was just glad she was. When my eyes finally adjusted, I looked at her face. She was no longer the gorgeous Fin I had grown up with. She looked tired and scared and broken. Her face was stained with tears and her cheeks were flushed. She looked like she had just wrapped her hair in a loose bun the minute she heard the news.
“Lizzie?” she asked, trying to get a reaction from me. I blinked, trying to see straight. My vision seemed blurry and I felt like I was about to throw up. I squeezed my eyes shut.
“Darce, what happened?” my mother spoke up, her voice caught on the last syllable. Finley slid on the bench right next to me, still making sure I wasn't about to fall over.
I closed my eyes again, trying to think. I didn't want to, but they deserved to know. They all did. It was hard to focus on one thing when my mind was racing and every noise seemed amplified a hundred times, ringing in my head.
“I came home to Mocha meowing. I checked my room for her, but she wasn't there. So I checked in the bathroom and...” I shuddered. I suddenly remembered what came after that. The pills. And the way he was just slumped over. Not breathing. I couldn't breathe.
I started panicking. I couldn't breathe. There was not enough air. Why the hell couldn't I breathe? I opened my eyes. My family was staring at me concerned. Why weren't they helping me breathe? I watched their mouths move, but no sound came out. I could only hear the blood rushing in my ears. Strangely enough, it sounded an awful lot like the ocean.
Then there was a young guy dressed in blue scrubs aiding me. He grabbed my hands and placed them on my stomach. I watched his mouth move and very slowly comprehended what he was saying to me.
“Look. Look, you're breathing. It's okay. You're breathing, it's fine. You're fine,” he repeated over and over again. It was hard not to listen to him. His voice was so smooth and calm. I focused on how my stomach was rising and falling with every breath and that I was in fact breathing. I took several deep breaths and I was suddenly able to hear the sounds surrounding me again.
“Is she going to be okay?” my mother asked in a panic. No, I thought, I wasn't able to breathe. Of course I'm not.
“Yes, ma'am. She was just having a severe anxiety attack. They often happen after traumatic experiences. After one as traumatic as this, though, I would suggest therapy for each of you. Especially her. She was the one to find him, was she not?” I watched my mother nod in response.
“I'm not a doctor, but I would very much suggest it,” he replied. Then he turned and walked away to talk to some other patients.
It was another hour before we heard anything. Even then, it was only that he would most likely survive, but the consequences for the lack of oxygen to the brain was unclear at this time.
We ended up spending the rest of the night in the waiting room. We didn't talk much and when they did talk, they didn't talk to me. I think it was because they were afraid they were going to throw me into another panic attack. Which was probably completely likely.
November 22, 7:30 AM: The doctor informed us that he wouldn't be the same. As if this were a surprise.
November 22, 3:30 PM: Serena showed up. Holden was not with her. She didn't stay long. I didn't want her to.
November 23: No news. Actually went home. Made it to the stairs before I broke down into tears. I promptly drove to Serena's so that I could use her shower.
November 25: The last few days had been spent at Serena's. I only moved from her bed to get food.
November 26: The doctor told my family that he was going to survive. I figured this was obvious, considering he'd been alive for almost a week, but apparently it required confirmation. The amount of brain function lost was to be determined. But I guess it was enough to celebrate Thanksgiving.
November 28: It was reported that there would be minimal brain damage. Whatever that means. We still were not allowed to see him.
November 29: We were permitted to see him, but only for short periods at a time and only one at a time. They didn't want him to get worked up and try and commit suicide again. I knew that wasn't the problem, but they had to follow procedure. He didn't ever speak one word to us.
I continued to spend my nights at Serena's. Holden could hardly make eye contact with me, much less talk to me and Serena was awkwardly nice, too. I was having a difficult time acting normal when they wouldn't act normal either.
Whenever Levi would visit, he'd automatically ask if I needed anything. All I wanted was for them to act normal. When I'd confront them about it, they'd deny it. It was more frustrating than it should have been. I found myself locked away in their guest bedroom almost all day. Her parents were almost never home and I wondered if they even had any idea that I was here. If they knew, I doubt they cared.
It was the Saturday before I had to go back to school when Holden finally spoke to me. I was asleep in the guest bedroom, which was now referred to as, “Elizabeth's room,” even though it was about 3 in the afternoon. I awoke to the weight of another person on the side of my bed.
I pretended to be asleep until it was unavoidable. I forced myself to roll over and look at Holden when he opened the curtains, letting the light flood in.
“Hey!” I shouted, pulling a pillow over my head.
“Hey, yourself,” he replied, taking the pillow off of my head. “You haven't eaten at all today, Elizabeth.”
“I'm not hungry,” I declared stubbornly. And it was true; I had no appetite since that day. He just scrutinized my appearance.
“I don't care. You're going to eat. And then you're going to my show. It's tomorrow, so we'll need to head out today.”
“I'm not going.”
“Oh, sweetheart, I was not giving you a choice. If I have to carry you out to the car, I will. Don't think I won't.” He gave me that fake pitying look. I pulled a pillow over my head again, ignoring him.
Then suddenly it was light again. And I was being lifted around the waist. I opened my eyes, seeing the world upside down.
“Jesus Christ, Holden, put me down!” He said nothing in response. In the back of my mind, I questioned whether or not he even heard me. We passed Serena.
“Serena!” I shouted. “Tell him to put me down!” Serena ignored me, looking at Holden as if asking if he needed any assistance.
“Go pack up some of her things. I need to get her out to the car. If she cooperates, I'll send her up to help you pick out stuff for the show.” Holden was only holding me with one arm now, instructing her with the other. I saw an opportunity, kicking and beating on his chest until his grip loosened. I tumbled out of his arms, the pain of landing on my back not even processing in my mind. I worked on standing up, but was greeted by Holden's grip on my wrist.
“I told you, Darcy Elizabeth Lancaster. You're going. I was never giving you a choice and if you don't play nice, I'll have Serena pack you the dress my mother bought her for her eighth grade dance,” Holden threatened. “Just so we're clear, it's all frills.” I stopped fighting. Holden nodded at the room upstairs. “I'll take care of her.”
Holden's grip on my wrist stayed strong as he dragged me out to the car. His car just so happened to be the car of my dreams: a 1967 Chevy Impala in all it's glory. Suddenly I was more keen on going.
“This is your car?” I asked. He turned, surprised.
“One of them, yeah. I use her on road trips because she's the most reliable.”
“Please tell me you've named her,” I said, admiring the car.
“Of course. I name all my cars. This one's called Sexy. Then there's Lennon, Lucy and Prudence.”
“Beatles fan?”
“How'd you guess?”
I smirked. “Lucky guess.”
He laughed, then opened the door, holding it open for me. I sat down on the worn seats. The car was well-loved, but in excellent condition for the age. Holden leaned next to my open window.
“I got her for my 16th. I've kept her in good condition since then. Even put in a new engine.” His eyes lit up when he talked about the car. It was refreshing to see him acting so normal. I forgot about everything for a while.
“What?” he asked, his head tilting slightly to the side. I realized that I had been staring at him for several minutes. My eyes dropped to the floor of the car, my cheeks turning a significantly bright red. I heard him chuckle softly, then he stepped away from the window. I chanced a glance out the window again.
Serena had a duffel bag packed and she was talking to Holden. I caught a bit of their conversation. “Well you can ask, but I bet she's not gonna go,” Holden was saying. He caught my eye when he glanced behind him.
Then Serena was walking up to my window. “So, me and Holden are taking two different cars. So you've got two options: you can come with me where you won't be irritated every hour of the way, or you can stay and go with Holden where you undoubtedly will,” she proposed.
I didn't even think twice. “Are you serious? I'm never leaving this car again. I'm gonna live in it.”
She laughed. “Fine. Just remember that you chose this and you can't back out now.”
I had a feeling that I had made the right choice, because while I loved Serena and would do anything for her, she couldn't treat me normally. Holden was a bit less sympathetic, which was exactly what I was looking for.
The two spoke for a minute longer, then headed to their respective cars. Holden switching on the radio the moment he slid in the driver's seat. He turned to me, looking right through me. “Hope you like classic rock.”
After about the third hour, I realized I didn't have the slightest idea as to where we were going. “Okay, so where the hell even is this concert?”
He looked at me, confused. “I didn't tell you? It's in California. I thought I had told you.”
“Well if you would have included that in the list of reasons why I should get out of bed, I would have been much more cooperative.” I only wished that Damian could go with me. Maybe he would be able to resolve things with Emma. Maybe then he would be happier. Maybe he wouldn't even have to go back to Rosary.
Thee most unfortunate thing is that I'd never know. I'd never know if I would have been able to prevent it. If I had done something different, if I had stayed even when he told me to go, would he be where he was right now? That's the biggest issue in humanity. We're so shortsighted that we never realize the effects of our actions until they are prevalent. That's when we realize that hindsight is a bitch and the world is out to get us. That's when we begin to realize the gravity of our impact on the world.
Holden and I hadn't spoke for an hour or so. My head was pressed against the window, so I imagined he didn't have the slightest idea as to whether or not I was even awake. But I felt the need to speak. I wanted to talk about it. I wanted to make my feelings known about it. I had been bottling it up for almost a week and it was finally catching up to me. I refused to sleep it off this time.
“I was the one to find him,” I said quietly.
“I know,” he replied. I didn't know why that was vital information, but it seemed to have so much weight to it. What did it matter who found him? What did it matter who called the ambulance or who pressed on his chest in a sloppy and panicked manner? I wasn't a hero in this case. I might have been able to prevent it if I would have headed home a bit earlier.
And what the hell was he thinking? Why did he think it was okay to commit suicide? Did he even think about what it would do to everyone else? Did he think about how upset Mom would have been? Or the trauma he caused me when I found him?
“I could have prevented it.”
“Maybe. But maybe not. The thing about the past is that it's the past. And messed up things happen. In fact they happen all the time. Every goddamn second of the day. But focusing only on the past is what messes you up. Focusing on the possible outcomes has never helped anyone.”
I stayed silent, thinking over what he had just said. I didn't have to feel guilty. I was choosing to. Why was I letting this destroy me?
I knew the answer to that the moment I thought it. He was hurt and I could have prevented it. That's enough to decimate anyone's sanity. I recognized that guilt was going to wash over my life and there was nothing I could do about it.
“So then what do I do about it?” I asked hopelessly. The words were out of my mouth before I even thought about them.
“Survive it. It's a sink or swim situation and I really hope you can swim, Darcy Elizabeth. I need you around,” Holden responded with finality. Throughout the entire conversation, his eyes never left the road, but he caught my eye for half a second when he said this.
I didn't know what to say to it, so I said nothing, resting my head on the window again. I suddenly felt extremely tired. I let sleep wash over me, welcoming it like I once welcomed the ocean. Sleep was my comfort blanket and I needed the luxury.