Tell Me, What's Real?

The only sign that I was still caught in the folds of reality were the trickles of tears that ran down my cheeks, and the whisper of the wind as it whisked around me. My heart was pounding out of control, my head spinning as though I had been caught in a hurricane and my only escape was to clamber underground and into the confines of Hell.

I could hear her calling out to me. I could hear her shouting, but her voice was just a whisper caught up in the mess of my mind. Insanity was pricking at the back of my mind, telling me to scream and shout and fall and break down. It wanted me to disappear, disappear like everything else had from my life and be damned forever to the serenity of blackness.

And then I was running. A cry was leaving my lips, desperate and hollow and my heart was shattering like a falling tower. Bit by bit it broke away until I was left with a thousand pieces that had only just been placed back together, and they dug into my chest like a knife. The pain was overwhelming, and the tears that streamed down my face were endless.

People were watching me, staring at me with lively eyes. Were they gone? Were they dead too? My conception of reality had dwindled until I was left with the simple knowledge that I could only be assured of my own life.

How did I know? I wanted to scream and tear my head to shreds, just so that I could forget and disappear and stop the rush of thoughts that were claiming my mind. I was choking on my own madness; it was building in my throat and I tugged at the end of my hair in an attempt to defer the pain from my chest.

Why had he lied? Why had he let me so close when all he was going to do was disappear and leave me to face the world alone? But the question that tugged at the back of my mind was worse, and it elicited a strangled sob from my cracked lips. Had he already disappeared? Was that why he had gone?

It occurred to me that I knew nothing of reality and nothing of the world I lived in. I had been so accepting of the fact that their spirits could remain, simply because of the fact that I wanted my sister to stay with every thread of my heart. But what kind of a cruel twist of fate would allow me to lose everything after just tasting it for the first time?

I was nothing. I was nothing because I was alive and nothing because I was dead. The world seemed to be a mirage of constant disappointment and pain, and it made me wonder whether I was the only one experiencing it.

My blurry eyes looked out at those around me, my heart hammering like a drum in my chest. They looked alive. They were breathing, blinking and walking, and their eyes showed signs of the human emotions that swirled through them.

But Jimmy had looked alive. His heart still beat and he still breathed, but he was dead.

The second I arrived home I ran up the stairs, collapsing onto the bed and throwing the covers over my body. Shattering sobs left my lips, my cheeks stained with tears and my chest heaving with each ragged breath I took in through my trembling lips. I curled up into a ball, wrapping my arms around my knees and holding myself because no one else would. It was then that I was hit with the realization that the only person that would ever love me in the world was myself, and as a sniveling mess I couldn’t bring myself to care. The only piece of reality that I was assured of was the beating of my heart, and the fact that though everyone and everything was disappearing I would never leave.

I didn’t know whether that was a curse or a miracle.

I heard him before I saw him. My head was buried under the covers, but I could hear his feet stepping against the floor until he was standing at the end of the bed. And as much as I wanted to deny it, relief shot through me at the fact that he was still here and that he hadn’t yet disappeared. But my strength was tumbling and I couldn’t bring myself to look him in the eyes for fear that it would be my last time.

“Izzy.” His voice was soft and croaky with emotion. It sounded like he was dying, but that was silly because he was already gone. “Izzy, don’t cry,” he whispered, but he didn’t step closer to the bed.

I sobbed. I threw away that part of myself that wanted to fall into his arms and have his heartbeat against my ear, and delve into a fantasy world where we could stay forever. I knew that I needed reality, because it was the only thing that would remain constant in my world.

“I wasn’t as strong as you.” I could hear the tears in his voice, and it was the pain that dripped through his words that caused me to stop shaking and listen. “When my sister died-“ his voice cracked, and a sob sounded out through the room. “When she died, I couldn’t handle it.” He was whispering now, and it sounded so painful and unlike him that I wanted to take him in my arms. “When she came back I was ecstatic. I thought that everything was perfect in the world again, and I thought that I’d finally be okay.”

“But she disappeared.” It was my voice now, croaky and quiet because I knew that he wouldn’t go on. Sniffling, I wiped the tears off of my cheeks and pulled the covers away, looking out at him through broken eyes. It broke my heart to see him standing there, tears streaming down his face and his eyes as dark as the sky at night. His body was shaking, and he had his arms wrapped around himself as he stood at the end of the bed.

“She disappeared,” he verified, his voice as shaky as his chest. “And I couldn’t handle it. I wasn’t-“ he stopped, wiping his eyes and clearing his throat before he continued. “I didn’t have someone to help me. It was like my world had ended and it was so shattering that I couldn’t even breathe. So I-“ he stopped again, shaking his head. He didn’t want to say it, and I almost didn’t want him to either.

He did what I couldn’t do. He did what he stopped me from doing, and what I had dreamt about for weeks after Leslie had died. He was right when he said that he was weak. He was weak because he was dead and I was alive and I wanted him to exist with me.

And it was then, in that moment that I realized that his tears were falling but they were never once hitting the ground. They disappeared, just like Leslie’s had. He was really gone.

I wanted to hold him, and I wanted him to hold me. But it was like the world had stopped and my heart was breaking and something was stopping me from moving. “There’s a reason,” I said croakily, forcing my eyes onto the floor. “You said that there has to be a reason why someone’s spirit comes back.”

It was as though I could talk him out of being dead. It was as though I could convince him that he was still with me, and then he would stay forever. I was mad in that moment. I had become mad with desperation.

“The second reason. I knew it the moment I saw you; there was a bright blue aura around you that pulled me towards your spirit. I…” he stopped, staring at me through desolate and broken eyes. “You were so broken,” he whispered, as though those words would make me understand. “You needed help.”

The second way is if they simply need to stay. If there’s something they have to do, even if they don’t know it, and they can only leave once they’ve done it.

He wasn’t a blessing or a miracle, he was a certainty. He came to me because I was broken, and he was leaving me because I was okay. But I wasn’t okay. I wanted to scream that I wasn’t okay, because my heart was broken and the tears seemed endless and because he was leaving me all alone. “But I’m not ready for you to leave. I still need you. Isn’t that another reason?” I was clinging on to anything now, insanity pushing at the back of my mind as I struggled to stay afloat.

He shook his head, his eyes scrunching shut to stop the flow of tears from streaming down his cheeks. “It’s not enough.”

It was enough to me. It was enough for me, but the Universe was fucked up and desperate for me to be alone. “I love you, Izzy.” It was four words, whispered out into a darkened and breaking room. It was four words that ripped through me and made me sob and cry because it was too late and his love didn’t matter.

I looked up at him, a tear dribbling down my face as I met his eyes. We were both broken again; the tape that was holding us together had broken and every part of us was shattering. His blue eyes were dark and desperate, consumed with love and promise and everything that had made me love him back.

“Don’t go,” I whispered, my mind racing as I tried to comprehend what was happening. “Please don’t go.” He simply shook his head, biting his lip as tears cascaded down his hollowed cheeks. “Please!” I was shouting now – screaming at him and at the Universe and anything that could bring him back. “Please! I need you! Jimmy, I love you! Please!” My chest was heaving with sobs and my world was falling apart, my mind spinning as the pieces of my heart tumbled down.

He walked towards the bed and hesitantly placed his arms on my own, holding my shaking body down. I fell against the bed, my head against the pillow as his arms were ripped away from me. But he came back, just like he always did. He walked around the side of the bed and pulled the covers down, and hopped in behind me with his head on my shoulder. He wrapped his lanky arms around me, filling me with warmth and love but despair because I knew that it would end.

His tears were falling against my neck, and he gently placed a trembling kiss on my shoulder blade as he tightened his arms around me. “Shh,” he cooed, sniffling slightly as he tried to stop me from shaking. He nuzzled his face into my hair, letting out a sob against me as he placed kisses all over my neck. “It’s okay, Izzy,” he croaked, caressing my bare skin with his nose. “You’ll be alright.”

“Don’t leave me,” I whispered, my tears falling onto the pillow. He squeezed me tightly, his sharp breaths tickling my skin as he brushed his lips over my shoulder.

“You make me happy,” he said quietly, his voice cracking with emotion. “You make me so fucking happy, Isabelle Thomas. Don’t forget that, okay?”

I let out a cry in response and he nuzzled my face with his own, placing a soft kiss on my cheek and catching the tears that were falling. “I love you,” he whispered into my ear, brushing his lips across my ear lobe. “And even though it hurts, I know that this was meant to happen. I was meant to help you, but in the end, you… you helped me.”

“Don’t leave.” I was desperate now, because I could feel him slipping away and I couldn’t grab onto him and hold him with me.

His breaths were hot and sharp against my neck, and when he spoke it was with words that I was longing for but terrified of hearing at the same time. “Come with me,” he whispered, nuzzling his nose against my neck. “Come with me, Izzy.”

“How?” I croaked, my heart racing and flipping as tears dribbled down my cheeks. I couldn’t understand him; all I could comprehend was that he was disappearing and I didn’t want that to happen.

“Let go,” he murmured, tightening his arms around me. “I’ve got you, Izzy. Just let go.”

It was the words he had told me since he had first arrived, and the words that he was uttering to me as his soul slipped away from the world. I closed my eyes, my chest heaving as I pushed myself into his body.

And with his arms around me and his love flowing into my body, I let go for the final time.