Suga Babies

Dade

“Dade, can you hear me? Please, baby, you’ve got to come back. It’s. It’s. It’s Liliana. She never came home last night. You have to wake up. I know it’s gonna be hard, sweetie, but you’ve got to. You’re strong.”

I knew that voice. That’s my mother. My mother, with the unbelievably strong voice that always soothed me as a baby. My mother, whose voice cracked as she tried to pull me back. I was trying. I was constantly trying. I was so tired though. I was tired of struggling against myself. I knew it was all my fault that this had happened. I took all those pills. I brought this upon myself. But that doesn’t mean I want to stay here. I want to return, back to the real world. I don’t particularly like it here in my world. The shadows tear at my conscience, my conscious. They want me to give in.

Come to us, Dade, they whisper. Give up. You’ll never get out of here.

I want to prove them wrong, that I can break out of here. I want to show them, to show myself that I’m more than just their toy. Those voices that torment no matter the time, no matter the day. The voices that reminded me that I was here because of me. Those voices blamed me for everything. And rightfully too. I’d taken all those pills. I’d gotten in the car. I’d done this to myself. I deserved to be in this hole. However, there was that small glimmer of hope inside myself, telling me that I was stronger than this, stronger than them.

I won’t take any more pills. I won’t disrespect my parents. I won’t tease Lily. I won’t act like the world is crashing down on me. I’ll behave, turn my act around. I’ll apologize to Jess and I’ll stop being a prick to Tony, just because of something that happened in middle school. I won’t let what some creeper says change the way I live my life. And Lily, I’ll make things right. I’ll explain everything.

I could feel something tugging me out, like being lifted out of a sandpit. When I was younger, I couldn’t have been any more than 9 years old, I’d accidentally stepped into a mud pit and I couldn’t move. I’d cried pretty hard, pretty sure that I was going to die, that the mud was going to suck me under. Dad had calmed me down, grabbed me underneath the arms and heaved me out of the pit. Of course, I lost my shoes but I was alive. That’s what this felt like.

“Dade?”

Dad.

“Copper! COPPER!”

Dad!

I opened my eyes, but everything was blurry. I tried to force my hand up to my eye to rub whatever was covering my eye away. Except, I couldn’t move. I couldn’t make myself lift my arm, my hand, twitch my finger. I could only open and shut my eyelids.

“Dade? Can you hear us?”

I turned my eyes towards the voice but I couldn’t see who it was coming from. There were blurs, of blues and white and blacks and greys. Beeps, faint and regular, sounded from behind me somewhere. I felt someone’s hand on my own but it was like I was back under again. Panic overtook me as I came to the conclusion that I may never return to my parents, to Lily, to Jess or Kelsey. I’d be stuck here in the in-between for the rest of my life until I was too frail and old to even attempt pulling myself out. I felt a sob rising in my chest. My breathing became ragged and I gulped in air automatically but I’m not sure any actually reached my lungs.

“Dade, calm down. It’s alright. What you’re experiencing is perfectly normal. It will take a few days for you to return to normal.”

I couldn’t respond to the voice I didn’t recognize. I blinked and felt a grip on my hand, soft skin against my own. Mom. Only she would grasp at my hand like that, like I was the only thing she could hold to in a sea of violent waves.

“It’ll be alright, baby. I promise. You’re fine.”

I closed my eyes, trying to block out the rest of the world. I just wanted everything to be okay again, and I wanted it to be now. I never had much patience but to be honest, I think that’s mainly Mom’s fault.

“Just relax, Dade,” Dad soothed. I felt his hand running through my hair, smoothing it down. I let myself slip off, actually falling asleep for the first time in what seemed like years. When I woke up, I opened my eyes slowly and let out a disappointed sigh. Everything was still blurred, as if I was looking through saran wrap. I shifted in bed and gasped. I moved! I pushed myself up so I was sitting and tears filled my eyes, happy tears. I moved my tongue around in my mouth, touching my teeth and then wiggled my fingers. How long had I been out? My joints were stiff, achy. I felt old and worn, like someone had hung me up on a clothesline only for it a dust storm to blow in and get into all of my nooks and crannies.

I made a noise, testing out my vocal chords. My mouth and throat felt like I swallowed half the sand of the Sahara. I tried for a word. It came out a croak, but it did come out. I smiled and said my own name, letting it roll over my tongue.

The door opened and a blur in blue flicked on the light, partially blinding me. The blur stumbled when she saw me, stopping for a moment.

“Good morning, Dade,” she managed, walking further into the room.

“Good morning,” I wheezed. She bustled towards me and flicked on a light, further blinding me. I didn’t make a sound though. I was just glad that my eyes were open, even if my sight hadn’t returned to normal yet.

“How are you feeling today?” she asked, as she gathered things and put them down on the bedside near me.

“I’m alive, that’s good,” I replied.

“We all knew you’d pull through. You’ve held on for this long. It’s quite remarkable, actually.”

I nodded and let her do whatever she was going to do without fighting. This happened a lot over the next week. I just went along with whatever they wanted me to do. It wasn’t until the end of that first week that my vision finally cleared. The first thing I saw, though, was Mom and Dad fighting outside my room. My heart sank as I tried to listen in. They turned away from each, each crossing their arms as they did whenever they were through with each other for the moment. I’d witnessed plenty of parental fights over my lifetime, and some of the biggest in the history of my parents’ marriage but something seemed wrong here, different. It was like there was a wedge between them, something that was driving them apart. I watched as Mom shook her head, Dad pulling off his wedding band and shoving it into her hand. He stalked off and I stared helplessly as she sank down the wall outside of my hospital room, her brown hair disappearing from view as she, undoubtedly, began to cry.

What was even going on between my parents that this happened?