I Won't See You Tonight

Guinevere let out a sigh and ran her fingers through her hair. She could feel her heart racing in her chest, as if it were going to just beat, beat, beat, until it finally burst. That was all she needed it to do. Burst.

To burst open like the can of worms that would inevitably be unleashed when Jimmy found out that she was pregnant. He had explicitly said he didn’t want to have any more kids. Not after they lost Lacey last year. Losing Lacey was the hardest thing the two of them had ever been through together, which was saying a lot since the two of them had been to hell and back.

She was snapped out of her daze when she heard a rap on the front door. Her heart skipped a beat before it began racing again, full speed ahead. She wasn’t ready for this. This news was even harder to deal with than it was to tell him it was either go to rehab and salvage your relationship with your family, or continue to fuck up and have that be the end of everything. This was so much harder.

“I’m coming,” she called and stood up from the edge of the bed and walked down the stairs, her heart in her chest. She felt like she was running on auto-pilot as all of the memories from that wretched day came flooding back and she walked from the bedroom to the door.

She could remember waking up that morning, and taking Lacey to school. It was her third week of kindergarten, so of course in the car ride over Guinevere could remember being told about all of the things that were going on in the classroom. The one that stood out most was that Career Day was coming up soon.

“Can Daddy come to school, Mommy, and tell us about his drums?” Lacey had asked, looking at her mother through the rearview mirror with hopeful eyes.

She had her father’s eyes.

Guinevere had smiled, since she couldn’t think of a reason that Jimmy would say no. It’s not like they were on tour – they weren’t. In fact, they were trying to figure something out to go back into the studio, but nothing was definite. For once, they legitimately had time off.

Not that Jimmy was the type of father to say no anyway; he would do anything for his girls. While out on the road, if his wife and daughter weren’t with him, he would call every night, no matter what was going on. And while at home in the studio, every night when he came home he would quietly go into Lacey’s room and kiss her head before creeping out and into the master suit where he would climb into bed and pull Guinevere close and kiss her neck once before whispering I love you and drifting off to sleep.

Jimmy always thought she stayed asleep, but she didn’t. Every night she waited for those arms and those sweet, whispered words.

“Why don’t you ask him yourself when he picks you up from school today?” she had said as she pulled into the school’s parking lot.

“Daddy’s picking me up today?” Lacey had asked, a grin forming on her tiny features. Guinevere could practically feel the excitement radiating off of her. It wasn’t every day that Daddy made an appearance at the school.

“Yes, he is. And guess who might be with him?”

“Uncle Mattie?!”

“Yep, since Aunt Val is coming over with Kaitee and we’re going to make cookies. How does that sound?” Guinevere had asked, handing Lacey her backpack as they walked into the school. Since it was a private school for children who had parents who were either involved in the music industry or traveled a lot, people had to actually walk in and sign their kids in and out.

“I’m so excited, Mommy,” Lacey had beamed before running off with her little friends inside the classroom. Guinevere didn’t think twice about signing her in and not saying anything more. She didn’t think she had to.

Later on that day the phone call came. She and Jimmy had been sitting at the dining room table, drinking coffee and looking over the LA Times. He had decided to come home early from the studio and to surprise Guinevere, spend the day with her just lounging around the house. It was rare for them to spend any down time together, between his being in a band, her being a photographer by trade, and having a young daughter.

“Can you get that, babe?” Jimmy had asked, looking over his glasses at her when the phone had started ringing. She had nodded and picked up the phone and had barely even said ‘hullo’ before the woman on the line was telling her how sorry she was.

“What do you mean you’re sorry?” she asked, confused as to why this woman was so distraught. She hadn’t bothered to look at the caller ID before answering the phone.

“Misses Sullivan, you and your husband need to go to Orange Country Trauma Center immediately; there’s been a terrible accident,” the woman explained. She couldn’t help but notice it sounded as if this woman was holding back tears.

“Accident? What sort of accident; is Lacey okay?” she had asked. She could remember the feeling of her heart racing.

The woman on the other end sobbed several times and her voice was replaced by a man’s voice. “I’m so sorry to tell you, but your daughter did not survive the accident.”

Guinevere could remember the phone falling out of her hand and Jimmy looking up from the paper, begging to know what was going on. She could only vaguely remember the feeling of falling to her knees and crying for what felt like hours. Days. Weeks.

She still cried a lot of the time.

She wasn’t expecting anyone and Jimmy wasn’t due back for hours, so why someone was at the door didn’t make sense to her.

“Sorry, I’m coming, I’m coming!” she called again, walking a little bit faster now. At some point during the flood of memories she had just froze still, standing on the staircase as if she were a statue. It had taken the person knocking again to get her in motion.

“Are you Guinevere Sullivan?” the officer had asked her before she even had the front door open more than a crack.

She felt that awful racing in her heart. That awful feeling you get when you know you’ve misplaced something crucial. “Yes, I am. Is there a problem, Officer?”

The police man wrung his hand and looked down at the ground for what seemed like forever before looking up and at her directly in the eye. “Miss, I’m afraid to tell you there’s been an accident.”

“No!” she cried out, falling to her knees. All of this was too familiar. None of this was happening. This couldn’t possibly be real.

The cop knelt down in front of her before placing a hand on her shoulder. “Miss, I need you to come with me,” he started out softly. “We need you to come and identify the body.”

Guinevere didn’t move. She wasn’t going to go identify any bodies. She had to do it last time. She had to do it for her; she wasn’t going to do it for him.

“Miss, I understand that this is hard, but you need to calm down,” the cop said, as if it were that easy. She couldn’t believe someone thought it was that easy. First her baby and now her soul-mate – it didn’t seem like it could get any worse. There was just absolutely no way.

“Miss, this was found at the scene of the accident,” the cop said and placed a piece of paper on her lap. Against any good judgment she had, she opened it up and instantly recognized the familiar chicken scratch hand writing.

It's built up inside of me,
A place so dark, so cold;
I had to set me free.
Don't mourn for me,
You're not the one to place the blame.
All the ones around me,
I cared for and most of all I loved
But I can't see myself that way
Please don't forget me or cry while I'm away.

Guinevere let out a horrific sob again, before closing her eyes and melting away, slipping into her own reality. Nothing was real anymore. Nothing was going to change this.

Come back to me, this is unconceivable
Breaking apart the ones you love
Hate runs deep for what you've done to us
Left alone through suicide...suicide

I just want to die, take away my life
lay by your side, please...