Tell Me, What's Real?

When I woke up the next morning, I felt completely and utterly alone. My heart was heavy and my body was tense, and the frigid waves of air that brushed against my skin made me feel cold and lonely. My throat was painfully dry and my cheeks were stiff from the tears I had cried, and my body felt overwhelmingly heavy and hoarse as it laid against the mattress.

It took me a while to figure out why I felt so scared and afraid. My blue eyes fluttered open, a groan leaving my lips, my arms wrapping tightly around my frail body to shield out the pain the world was bringing me. Memories of the night before flooded through my mind; memories of how carefree I had felt and how ready I had been to let go of all the baggage that was tying me down. Why wasn’t I like that now? Why did I feel as though simply moving would be too much for me?

It was then that it occurred to me, and a deep sigh left my lips. He was gone. Jimmy was gone. He had left.

My mind shouted at me that he had an excuse. That there was a reason why he had left, and that it was something important. But my heart, my heavy heart told me that it was more. It was a feeling, clinging to the back of my mind, almost like an itch that I couldn’t scratch. It was the coldness that brushed against my skin; the lack of warmth that came when he was around. There was more.

And with a daunting feeling hanging over my head, I allowed my heavy eyelids to flutter shut and my mind to become coaxed into a place where everything was blissfully happy.

~~~~~

Weeks passed. Days went by, days plagued by dreary nothingness and overwhelming fatigue. It was almost as if a bug had inhabited my body, rendering me incapable to feel the happiness I longed for. It was like there was a rope wrapped around my ankle that was tying me down to the hell I felt so suddenly attached to.

It was like death. The bug was death, and bit by bit it was immobilizing my other senses until I felt like nothing but a walking spirit. My mind was no longer haunted by memories, and was instead painfully empty and lifeless. Thoughts didn’t occur, they flashed through so quickly that I could hardly understand their meaning.

And I knew why it was. I knew why I felt like nothing, and why each day seemed to pass as a blur. It was because he wasn’t there. It was because I hadn’t seen him since that day I had woken up dauntingly alone. It was because I was scared, and the terror was being blocked off by denial. Denial that something had happened to him. Denial that the world itself was real. Denial that I was alone.

By becoming nothing I was never alone. My company was the insanity that pushed its way to the front of my mind.

It was exactly three weeks and four days later that I decided it had been long enough. I had waited long enough, and he had been gone long enough. He had always found me, so I would find him. And that thought excited me and terrified me at the same time.

My first thought was to check the phonebook. I knew his last name, so surely it would give me an address. And then I would simply go down to visit him, and pray with every part of me that he was still there.

I found it easily. The weight that clung to my heart seemed to be lifted when I saw his name, and a wobbly smile formed on my face. Hope fluttered through my mind, and after writing the address in black pen on my hand I closed the book, a rare beam of happiness flowing through me.

The loneliness that grasped my heart allowed it to flutter slightly, and my hands clenched in tight fists by my side as I made my way down the stairs. Ignoring the fact that I was dressed in my pajamas and the fact that my face was significantly paler and swollen from crying, I headed towards the door, hesitating only slightly when I saw my mother sitting down at the table.

Frowning slightly as my hope dwindled to the back of my mind, I walked towards her, pushing my light hair behind my ears. When she heard me approaching her eyes snapped up, and a soft, almost exhausted smile formed on her lips. “Hey Sweetheart,” she greeted softly, reaching up to rub her thumb under my eye. “Are you feeling better?”

Forcing my lips into a small smile, I nodded my head. “Yeah,” I murmured, tilting my head slightly as I examined the papers that sat in front of her. My heart clenched when I noticed that they were pictures, pictures that had been taken years before of the three of us. Swallowing roughly, I smiled lightly as my blue eyes took in the smile on my youthful face, as well as the one on both my sister and my mother as we played outside.

I was brought out of my numbness when I felt her hand grasp around mine, his touch calloused and worn as she squeezed my hand tightly. Looking up at her, I found that she was staring down at me with a smoldering and compassionate gaze.

In a second I was wrapped in her arms, curled into her as though I was the child I had been in the picture. I was folded into her body as if I was a part of herself, her long, frail arms clutching me tightly to her chest as she buried her head into the crook of my neck. Feeling tears pricking in the corners of my eyes, I pulled her closer, feeling like no more than a child as I felt my heart burn in my mother’s embrace. “Don’t you ever leave me,” she was whispering, her voice hoarse and croaky. “Don’t you ever leave me, I swear.”

I was reduced to a pool of warmth and emotions in her arms, feeling alive simply in the fact that I was feeling her pain. And I wanted to clutch onto her tighter and never let her go, because she was the only one that had never left me. She had always been there, and I loved her blissfully for that fact. My love for her was blind in the fact that I was adamantly believing that she would never leave me alone. She was the one love that would stay by my side forever, because without her I was alone.

“I love you, Mummy,” I murmured, feeling the wet trickle of her tears against the top of my head. She kissed the top of my head, caressing me in a way that made me feel so warm that I was almost reduced to a blubbering mass.

“I love you too, Isabelle. Don’t you ever forget that. No matter what, we have each other,” she whispered against the top of my head, sniffling slightly as she tightened her grip around me.

Pulling away, she held me at arm-length, a compassionate smile on her lips as she examined me. “You deserve to be happy, Izzy. I swear to you, I’m going to make you happy.”

Feeling tears pricking in the corners of my eyes, I nodded my head, blindly grasping at the promise of happiness. She gave me a soft smile before dropping my arms, letting out a deep breath of air as she wiped away the errant tears from her eyes.

“Were you going out?” she asked gently, walking back over to sit by the table.

Nodding, I flushed slightly as I gave her a small smile. “I was going to see a friend.”

At this she visibly brightened, a grin forming on her lips as she nodded enthusiastically. “That sounds good. You better get going before it starts to rain, hon.”

Nodding my head, I walked forward to swiftly kiss her cheek before walking towards the door. “See you later, Mum,” I said softly, before shutting the door behind me.

~~~~~

The walk to his house was shorted than expected. It was almost halfway between where my house was and where we had first met, and when I stood outside it I had to stop and breathe deeply for a while. Because deep down, I was terrified of his rejection. But more than that, I was terrified that he would be gone. And both of those thoughts scared me more than I had ever thought possible.

Brushing my hair out of my face, I was suddenly aware of how horrible I must have looked, standing there in my pajamas with a red, blotchy face. But inside of the uncertainty was a knowledge that I had to see him, and it was that knowledge that forced me forwards.

My heart was in my throat as I stood on his doorstep, my hand hesitating slightly as I leaned forward to knock. Breathing in deeply, I forced myself to knock, flinching slightly at how loud it sounded before taking a step backwards.

My hands were interlaced in front of me as I stood there, my heart hammering in my chest as I thought of the options. I would either see him, or I wouldn’t. Either way I would know if he was gone.

The door swung open and my eyes widened slightly when I saw a lady standing there, dressed in a purple robe with her blue eyes staring down at me curiously. Her hair was dark and in a tangle of untamed curls, her face aged with wrinkles that were lined around her eyes. Overall, she looked so much like Jimmy that it made the heat rise to my cheeks.

“How can I help you, sweetheart?” she asked softly, a small, weary smile on her lips as she stared at me in curiosity.

My heart racing erratically in my chest, I flushed slightly as I fought to keep her gaze, my throat painfully dry as I stood there. “Mrs Sullivan?” I asked gently, and she smiled lightly and nodded. “Is Jimmy here?”

Her eyes flashed and she frowned at me slightly, the lines around her eyes looking all the more prominent as she looked down at me. “Are you a friend of his?” she asked softly, her voice holding an edge to it that made me unsure.

Nodding gently, I frowned slightly when I saw the forced smile on her lips and the clouds that covered her blue eyes. “I’m sorry, sweetie,” she said softly, her voice laced in sadness, “but Jimmy died six months ago.”