Status: Active
Our False Reality
Chapter 5
“Get up,” Brendon demands.
“I can’t,” she protests, lying flat face down on my bed.
“You’re not even sleeping.”
“I can’t sleep.”
“Because you never do anything.”
“I’m too tired,” she yawns.
“How long has it been since you changed your clothes?”
“Three days.”
“How long since you’ve showered?”
“A week.”
“And how long have you been out of the hospital?”
“Two weeks.”
“I think you need to go back.”
“Shut up!” she snaps.
“Baby,” he says softly. “I just want what’s best for you.”
“I can’t even write anymore Bren. I don’t feel like it. I don’t feel like doing anything and when I try to write the words come out all choppy. They don’t flow emotionally like they should. What am I supposed to do? If I’m not a writer I’m nobody.”
“You’re still a writer. I promise the words will come back. They always do. You just need some time.”
“Will you stay with me?”
“I’m always here. You know that,” he replies then he’s crawling into bed beside her, wrapping his arms around her small frame.
---
He walks in and she’s on the dirty cold tiled hospital floor crying so hard she can barely breathe because no one had good news to tell her. He picks her up and tucks her back into the bed and sits down beside her, arms around her. She calms down in his embrace and closes her eyes knowing she is safe and loved. “I’ll be right here. You can get through this. We’ll get through it together,” he tells her.
“Time is running out Bren.”
“It’s never too late baby.”
“They’re all giving up on me. They think I’m crazy. They think I’ll never get better.”
“You will get better and you’ll show them all. Screw them. I won’t ever give up on you.”
---
“Amazing,” he says staring at the wall where she has picture she drew of him taped up beside her bed.
“They’re not. I’m not,” she shakes her head, biting her lip.
“You’re beautiful and talented and amazing. Don’t you believe me? Don’t you trust me?”
“I do,” she nods and her eyes are wet with tears that are threatening to spill down her pale face. She smiles though her heart is broken and aching inside her chest.
“I love you,” he leans in and kisses her lips softy.
The tears go away and she lies back against the mountain of pillows. He sits and holds her hand in his, stroking his thumb over her smooth skin.
“I felt better yesterday.”
“I know you did.”
“I want to be better so badly Brendon.”
“I know you do.”
“Help me to feel better?” she pleads quietly.
“Of course,” he nods, then he’s kissing her again, laying on top of her and his hand is wandering. It’s a temporary moment of bliss but nothing more than that. He can’t fix everything even though she pretends he can. Ryan sees through the pretending but he isn’t there and she is free to be in her false reality. She’s the writer who can’t even write. She’s the girl who smiles even though her heart is broken. She’s the girl who loves people that aren’t even there.
She spends all her time drowning in music and throwing herself into everything she can find, afraid to let the bad thoughts attack her mind. She buries herself in making art and friendship bracelets and running out of the house whenever she can but the darkness always finds its way in. She can’t hide forever. For now though, she is safe within her own fantasies.
“I can’t,” she protests, lying flat face down on my bed.
“You’re not even sleeping.”
“I can’t sleep.”
“Because you never do anything.”
“I’m too tired,” she yawns.
“How long has it been since you changed your clothes?”
“Three days.”
“How long since you’ve showered?”
“A week.”
“And how long have you been out of the hospital?”
“Two weeks.”
“I think you need to go back.”
“Shut up!” she snaps.
“Baby,” he says softly. “I just want what’s best for you.”
“I can’t even write anymore Bren. I don’t feel like it. I don’t feel like doing anything and when I try to write the words come out all choppy. They don’t flow emotionally like they should. What am I supposed to do? If I’m not a writer I’m nobody.”
“You’re still a writer. I promise the words will come back. They always do. You just need some time.”
“Will you stay with me?”
“I’m always here. You know that,” he replies then he’s crawling into bed beside her, wrapping his arms around her small frame.
---
He walks in and she’s on the dirty cold tiled hospital floor crying so hard she can barely breathe because no one had good news to tell her. He picks her up and tucks her back into the bed and sits down beside her, arms around her. She calms down in his embrace and closes her eyes knowing she is safe and loved. “I’ll be right here. You can get through this. We’ll get through it together,” he tells her.
“Time is running out Bren.”
“It’s never too late baby.”
“They’re all giving up on me. They think I’m crazy. They think I’ll never get better.”
“You will get better and you’ll show them all. Screw them. I won’t ever give up on you.”
---
“Amazing,” he says staring at the wall where she has picture she drew of him taped up beside her bed.
“They’re not. I’m not,” she shakes her head, biting her lip.
“You’re beautiful and talented and amazing. Don’t you believe me? Don’t you trust me?”
“I do,” she nods and her eyes are wet with tears that are threatening to spill down her pale face. She smiles though her heart is broken and aching inside her chest.
“I love you,” he leans in and kisses her lips softy.
The tears go away and she lies back against the mountain of pillows. He sits and holds her hand in his, stroking his thumb over her smooth skin.
“I felt better yesterday.”
“I know you did.”
“I want to be better so badly Brendon.”
“I know you do.”
“Help me to feel better?” she pleads quietly.
“Of course,” he nods, then he’s kissing her again, laying on top of her and his hand is wandering. It’s a temporary moment of bliss but nothing more than that. He can’t fix everything even though she pretends he can. Ryan sees through the pretending but he isn’t there and she is free to be in her false reality. She’s the writer who can’t even write. She’s the girl who smiles even though her heart is broken. She’s the girl who loves people that aren’t even there.
She spends all her time drowning in music and throwing herself into everything she can find, afraid to let the bad thoughts attack her mind. She buries herself in making art and friendship bracelets and running out of the house whenever she can but the darkness always finds its way in. She can’t hide forever. For now though, she is safe within her own fantasies.