I'm Over Getting Older

Hannah
“Hello?” I answered groggily, after the third time Jack had called my phone.

“Did I wake you up?” He asked.

I let out a laugh, rubbing my eyes. “Well it’s two in the morning, so yes.” I whispered. I slowly got out of bed and left the room quietly so I wouldn’t wake up Natalie. I had a hard time getting her to bed. My wrists still ached.

“What’s wrong?” I asked him when I heard yelling in the background. Angry profanities were being screamed. I tensed up a little.

“Hannah…fuck. I-”

“No.” I interrupted him, my voice quavering.

“He did, Han.” Jack sighed angrily.

I shook my head. This couldn’t be true, he promised. “Tell me you’re lying. Please.” I tried to control my voice.

“I’m so sorry baby girl.” He murmured. “He’s not worth it at all. I’m going to beat the shit out of him, you deserve so much better.” I heard somebody yelling in the background, but couldn’t understand a word of it because I already felt sobs take control of my body. “I-”

“Jack, I-I have to g-g-go.” I stammered.

“No please don’t hang up, Hannah. List-” I snapped the phone shut and let it drop to the floor, before I sat down as well.

It wasn’t for a while that I just sat there, staring at the wall. I didn’t notice the tears flowing down my face until I reached up to rub my eyes. I wrapped my arms tightly around my knees that were pulled up to my chest, scratching at the fresh cuts that were made only hours before.

I wasn’t good enough. Not for Alex, not for anybody. Too fat, not pretty enough; too broken, too dependent on people. I couldn’t handle it anymore. I wasn’t good enough the way I truly was. I needed to become different. But right now all I felt was pain, and I just needed more of it. Maybe pain accepts me the way I am. All the irrational, uncontrollable thoughts I’m having are just signs.

I don’t know anymore.

Alex

I woke up, head pounding, and looked down and saw I was sleeping on the floor. I guess that’s why my back hurts. Why am I sleeping on the floor?

Bam. I remember now. Not even the pain and blurriness of my extreme hangover can block out the fact of what happened last night. I cheated. And even worse, she knows. Jack told her and she hung up. He tried calling her back repeatedly with no answer.

I fell back asleep unwillingly, only waking up when I heard somebody getting out of their bunk.

“Morning, Jack,” I croaked out when Jack walked by. He flicked me off.

“Don’t talk to me, bro.” I groaned.

“What the fuck do you want me to do?” I asked, still not thinking too clearly because of the hangover, and just trying to shove all of the “what if’s” about Hannah away.

He turned around, narrowing his eyes at me. “Have you tried fucking calling? Making sure she’s safe? ATTEMPTING to apologize? If I were you, Hannah would already have 56 missed calls from me. If circumstances were different, this wouldn’t be as big of a deal. But the fact that her brother just died, you PROMISED not to do this, and she’s raising your child, and you’ve ruined her, makes this so much worse. She’s beautiful. She has a great personality and she used to be able to stand up for herself until you began tearing her down by treating her this way. It’s fucked up, Alex. You have no excuse.” He lectured, with a fire in his eyes.

“She’s been so distant and out of it. She acts like she doesn’t care anymore. She acts like she doesn’t love me. She sounds like a robot when we talk and I just miss her, okay? I needed somebody to touch, and hold, and yes it was wrong bu-”

“HER OWN BROTHER JUST PASSED AWAY, HOW DO YOU EXPECT HER TO ACT?” He screamed, waking everybody up.

I head my head, trying to calm the headache down but failing. I had to call Hannah. What if she had hurt herself? What if she’s dead? If she’s dead that means my daughter is all alone. Is my daughter okay?

I grabbed my phone and walked off the bus, door slamming behind me. I heard the guys yelling my name but I ignored them, already dialing Hannah.

Three rings and then she ignored the call. I left her a voicemail. I repeated this pattern until about 20 calls later.

To: Hannah
Please answer. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to, and I just don’t know what to say. Are you okay? Is Natalie okay?

Send.
Nineteen minutes and still no answer.

To: Hannah
Hannah please you don’t have to forgive me or even talk to me about this situation right now but please just say something so I know you and Nat are okay, please.

Send.
I grew anxious as I leaned myself against the back of a tree trunk, on top of a small hill overlooking a few of the buses.
Still no answer.

I began to think of horrible possibilities. My two year old daughter waking up, finding her mother dead on the floor. No, Hannah wouldn’t do that to Natalie. She’s not that irresponsible. But she’s been so depressed lately I just don’t know.

To: Hannah
I may not have a right to talk to you, but I have a right to know if my daughter is safe.

I knew that was going to piss her off but I had to know that Natalie was okay. I also had to know that Hannah was okay.
I stopped breathing for a moment when my phone vibrated, signaling I had a text.

From: Hannah
Natalie is fine.

I breathed out a sigh of relief to know that they were both okay, and that I got a hold of Hannah.

To: Hannah
Please call me, let me explain. I love you.

I sent it. Five minutes later I got a reply.

From: Hannah
Fuck you and your lies.

I sent her countless messages after that, begging for forgiveness, but she stopped answering.

I called Matt, our manager. “Matt I need to get home. Now.”

“You fucked up. You have to suffer the consequences of not being able to fix this until we get back in a week. If you can even fix it.”

“I need to go back right now you don’t fucking understand.” Hannah had to have cut. I know it. I can feel it

“Alex, you need to start fucking suffering for your mistakes.” He clicked off.