Almost Lost It All

August 7th, 2014
9AM

"Does he know?"

"No."

"Zacky, plase don't sound so uneasy. You're sure?"

"I'm not uneasy, calm down. I'm completely sure. He has no idea."

I sigh with relief into the phone.

"Where are you?" Zacky Vengance asks me curiously.

While turning in a full circle I look at all of my surroundings.

"It's mountainous," I answer, "I'm about halfway into Nevada. I should be there tomorrow."

"I'm excited to see you." He says. I can tell he's trying to make me feel better.

"I scared to come back." I mumble honestly.

"I know you are. But everyone misses you."

"I left all of you, I'm a douche." The frown on my lips tugs my mouth down harder.

"You had a reason to leave. No one's angry anymore, we all understand. We just want you back home, Jen." He reassures me again.

"I just..." I can't tell anyone how I'm feeling because it's not their job to listen. No one should have to hear my problems, "okay. I believe you. I've got to go, I'll ...uhm.." I can't help but laugh a little nervously, "see you tomorrow."

Zack sounds happy about that goodbye, "You got it. See ya." The other line goes dead.

I hang up the payphone and pull out two more quarters. I push the first one into the shiny slot, then the second. Pressing the familiar numbers causes my heart to begin racing. With all of my sense I push the bad thoughts from my brain. My pulse stops for a split second when the other line jumps with sound.

"Hello?"

It's a woman's voice. Disappointment floods through my entire body when I hear her. I slam the phone down with my nerves going haywire. I push the glass door open to the booth and step out, turning my back on any type of contact with him again until tomorrow. I spent the last of my change on that phone call. I'm not going to break a fifty just to make a pathetic payphone plea again. The person giving me a ride to the Nevada border is eating so I walk over to her car. I'm dying for a shower even though I took one just last night at a run down hotel. I tell the woman I'm going to use the bathroom.

As I wash my face with cheap soap and thin paper towels, I don't look at my reflection. I don't know if I can, really. So, blindly, I let the warm water drip over my arms until the drops tickle my underarms. I splash my face one last time before I plan on getting back to the driver. But as I reach for another paper towel I catch my own glance. The mirror inside of the bathroom is cracked at the right side; a spider web affect stretches across the whole sheet of glass. Once I see my reflection I can't look away. Familiar insecurity rises slowly but surely in my stomach, copying the crack, spreading throughout my whole body.

The left side of my face is badly bruised still. On my cheek there are visible knuckle marks from Ethan's blow. The skin around my eye is a dark purplish colour, not ready to fade pink yet. Along my jawline there's a blotchy blue bruise with a bit of yellow. My lip is still cut and bruised, too. On the right side of my head there's a small cut right above my temple where I hit the passenger side window. At the top of my forehead there's a cut as well, but from the windsheild. I gently slide off my hoodie to reveal a large bruise across my chest where I hit the dashboard.

The cuts and bruises aren't what concern me. I'm so pale that my lips have lost some of their colour. They're dry and chapped from lack of love. My cheeks are slightly sunken in, as if I was sick. My hair is really long now; it's wavy, full, natural. But it's not as healthy as it should be. It almost seems ratty to me while it falls into my eyes. And my eyes are dull. God, that scares me the most.

No matter how terrible I was feeling my eyes would always shine. If I was angry they would shine a firey grey blue. If I was happy they'd shine a pretty blue-green colour. If I was depressed they would shine a dark, royal, aqua colour. They always shined. But now, as I look at myself, they're a dull, dead, milky topaz. Have I really lost everything? Is there any reason to leave this bathroom? Shall I just stay in here forever? Starve to death. Starve myself of humanity and love and happiness. Just die here because of how dead I look now?

Before I can make a decision a loud tapping on the door frightenes me out of my head.

"I'm leavin', darlin'." The woman giving me a ride says in a long Southern drawl.

I lean against the sink and close my eyes, sighing deeply.

Go out there.

I can't look at myself before I leave that lonely Nevada bathroom.

--

The sun is rising higher in the sky now. It's about 2 in the afternoon. We've been driving for about only four hours. My driver tells me that we should be in California by nightfall or even earlier. Then I have to pick up a ride across the state to the Pacific Coast Highway. Once I have that, I just ride all the way down to Huntington Beach.

I'm trying really hard to keep Zacky's words in my head but they keep slipping. I stare out the window at the passing mountains, feeling miserable. The emotion is so familiar that I take it in strides. I beat down the fear with my misery. I'm scared out of my wits going back home. I want to find something good there, but will the pain ever subside with the memories? With an old film roll streaming through my mind I tilt my head back and fall asleep as the sun beats through the car windsheild.

...

"Here, like this. Spread those fingers and press down."

My long fingers easily spread over the smooth keys of Jimmy's grand piano. I press down and a great sound erupts from the strings. A big smile crosses my face. I look up at him next to me to see him smiling, too. His crystal blue eyes already hold pride for me.

"Very good. Now this." He says.

He places both of his hands on the instrument. He spreads his big hands so his fingers are in the right position. He pushes down to make a beautiful harmony. I follow his actions. Whatever he does, I do. But even though I copy him with notes, I can't copy him with grace. He forgets he's next to me. His fingers glide over the keys as if he's born to do this. An amazing song echoes throughout his new home, a home he can call his own. The one he just bought with Leana. His head bobs as he moves with ease among the board. His bottom lip sticks out slightly as concentrates. While he gets lost his eyes glaze over in a brilliant trance. He's a master. He's as good on piano as he is on drums. I pay attention to every move he makes. Before he finishes I've remembered the whole song already. But I lie to him. I tell him I can't remember a thing. So he plays it again, getting lost again. I watch my brother in complete admiration, with envy extremely far away. Afterwards he looks up and smiles at me. I smile back graciously. His eyes turn soft and knowing.

"Home is so close, little sister. It's the only safe place for you. You've forgotten that. People love you there, and you should always remember. Go back and love all of them. For me." He tells me.

He gets up from the vanity seat so I turn to look up at him. He leans down and presses a kiss on the top of my head. He walks toward the archway. Instead of the next room being ahead of him like before, there's a blinding white light. I try to get up, but I can't move.

"Jimmy!" I call out helplessly, "Where are you going?! Please don't leave me here!"

He turns toward me with a small smile.

"You're strong, Jen. You're strong enough to move on now. So try it."

"No! No, I'm not! Take me with you! I miss you so much!" I cry. Tears fall from my eyes and disappear before they can drop from my face.

He just shakes his head at me like he used to, "Turn around, okay?" He says.

I don't want to turn around, I want to watch him go, but I can't help it. I turn in the seat only to confront the bathroom mirror with the spider-web crack in it. I'm battered and bruised. My hair is sticking to my wet face. I'm thirty in my reflection, unlike the day he first taught me how to play piano when I was seventeen.

"You're my beautiful little sister. And I love you. So please, don't hurt so much."

...

I wake up in a daze, but I can read the sign, "Welcome to California."