Without You, I'm Just Me

Naomi was still tense when we got home. She cleaned the kitchen first, cleaning out the fridge while she played some music. I helped the kids sort out their dirty clothes while she did this.

"Mommy only cleans when she doesn't feel good," Lewy said.

"Yeah, mommy isn't having such a good day," I told him.

"Is it Robert?"

"Uh, not really, Lew," I exhaled, "it's a lot of things."

"Can you make it better?"

"I'm trying, coz I want her to be better too."

Naomi seemed to be off in her own world while she moved around. The boys seemed used to this, and it bothered me; she wasn't being neglectful, but you could see she wasn't all there. I tried to get her to take a break, but she wouldn't.

When I decided to take the boys over to my parents, I found her cleaning out the drawers in her bedroom. She knelt on the floor, pulling clothed out; I went in and touched her arm. Her eyes looked up at me, she stopped tossing clothes, "Yeah?"

"I'm taking the boys to my parents' now. You sure you don't wanna go?"

She nodded, "I'm sure. You can take my car."

"Are you hungry or anything?"

"No...I'll eat something when I'm done here."

"Are you sure?"

She nodded, "I'm sure, Pete," and then she smiled, "I'll be okay. I'm just taking my mind off things."

I nodded slowly; she got up and took my hand, leading me to the living room. Benji and Lewy were looking at their fishes when we entered. Naomi let my hand go and went over to them, "You guys have fun at grandma and grandpa's, okay?"

They nodded and stepped away from the tank. Naomi knelt and hugged them both; Benji hugged her the longest, giggling when Naomi tickled him, "Mommy!"

Naomi smiled, "I'm just kidding around, baby. Be good, okay?"

"I will."

She kissed his cheek and then Lewy's. She had smiled softly at him and ran her fingers through his hair, "I love you, bub."

"I love you too."

Naomi stood and watched us go, looking somewhat relieved. There was this vibe I felt, coming from her, that I couldn't explain. The feeling was tugging me back, but instead, I moved forward and got into her car with the boys.

The feeling wouldn't fade, even at my parents house. Eating and playing with the boys, Naomi was in the forefront of my mind. I ached to get back to her house, and something told me that there was something wrong.

I went to my mom while she was baking cookies with the boys, "Mom, I forgot my phone at Naomi's," which was true, but I left it intentionally; I didn't plan on talking to anyone, "I'm gonna go get it. I'll be back in a second."

"Okay," my mom hummed; then she looked up at me, "oh, will you stop off and get some milk?"

"Yeah, sure."

"Thanks."

I waved quickly and headed out the door. There was just something bothering me, and it concerned me. I drove as quickly as I could, back to Naomi's, all the while wondering why I was feeling the way I was.

I finally got to the house, parked, grabbed the keys, and then jogged up the pathway and opened the door. I could hear the music playing, but not the busy humming that she did to it. I shut the door and looked around; I didn't see her, so I went to her bedroom; "Naomi?"

She wasn't in her bedroom, so I looked around; her room was clean, except for a small pile of clothes. I knelt and saw that they were the clothes she was wearing earlier, "Navy!" I called her name.

I heard her groan, it came from behind me. I stood and backtracked down the hall; I saw that Benji's bedroom door was open just a little. I pushed it opened and found Naomi there in her underwear, in the dark, lying across his small bed.

"Navy?" I called to her.

She groaned again.

I turned on the light and saw that she had an empty bottle of vodka lying in her hand. She looked as if she had passed out; she must've drank the entire bottle in the past hour. I went to her and knelt on the bed; that's what I saw the empty pill bottle tangled under her hair; "Naomi, did you take all these?"

She didn't answer, she just let out a low moan. I looked at the bottle and read the label; they were prescription pain killers. I knew exactly what I had to do; I got up, picked her up and carried her limp body to the bathroom across from Benji's room.

Naomi fell on the tile; she looked fucking dead and I wasn't sure why I wasn't panicking. This seemed too casual and I hated myself for it. I picked up her upper half, kneeling and shoving my fingers in her mouth, down her throat, just like she had done for me years ago. Naomi gagged and threw up all over herself, and myself as well. It was all clear and yellow, with the pungent alcohol smell.

I didn't even react to the unsanitary figure of it. I had to get Naomi to vomit the pills up and to get her coherent. So far, all she did was vomit, gag, cough and cry. Her eyes were hazy and half lidded, tears rolled down her cheeks; she wasn't responsive. I got up and rushed to get my phone, wiping my hands on my hoodie.

I dialed 911 and a male picked up immediately, "911 What's your--"

"I need an ambulance! Please, hurry, my--my girlfriend she took some Vicodin and drank some vodka and she--she's not responding to me!"

"Sir, what's your address?"

"1240 Dodge Avenue," I spat out, "Please, hurry."

"I need you to calm down--"

"I can't, are you stupid?!" I shouted, "I don't even know when she took this shit! She's fucking dying, we have 2 kids!"

"What's your name, sir?"

I hated his calm voice.

"My name is Pete," I growled, rushing back to the bathroom.

Naomi was still on the floor, on her side, gurgling.

"Pete, I need you to induce vomiting on your girlfriend."

"I already did that! She just--she's just lying here! Please, make them hurry, I--I can't--I can't lose her," my heart was beating right out of my chest and my eyes stung with tears, "Please, dear God."

"What's her name?"

"Naomi," I swallowed; I knelt down and picked her up, "Naomi, are you okay?"

"What's going on with her?"

"She's just limp--she's gurgling! What--"

"She's choking, Pete, I need you to help get that vomit out of her throat, get her to vomit."

I did as he said, sticking my fingers down Naomi's throat, and more hot spit and vomit came up. It was a splash of blue and yellow, green.

Naomi started to cough and gasp; "She--she's gasping now!"

"She's trying to breathe," he said, "pat her back, she'll be okay, the ambulance is on the way."

I set the phone down and rubbed her back, "Navy, baby, can you hear me?"

She gasped like a fish; I picked her up and carried her to the living room, waiting for the ambulance. They arrived after 2 of the longest minutes of my life; they immediately put Naomi on a gurney and drove off; they wouldn't allow me to go with her. So, as they sped away, I watched. I felt lost and confused and sick and scared.

I had looked around, seeing a few neighbors either out, in their coats, watching or inside their homes, gazing from their windows. I went back inside and called Lee; he needed to know first.


The police had questioned me about Naomi's suicide attempt. They asked what was wrong with her and what she was doing. I was in denial that it was a suicide attempt; I had said it was just an accident.

The two detectives questioned me at my parents' house. Amy had the boys, while Lee was at the hospital. I was only home because they wanted to speak to me in private.

"Pete," a detective -Det. James, questioned me, "you said she was cleaning?"

"Yeah," I nodded, "Lewis--my kid told me she does that when she's not feeling too good."

"Sometimes," his partner, Detective Anderson, added, "when people, who are depressed--"

"Naomi wasn't depressed!" I snapped at them, "She--she just--she was having a bad day! Robert Coppola won't leave her alone! Why would she kill herself? We have kids, she wouldn't do that."

They looked at each other; Det. Anderson nodded his head, "You have a history of depression, no?"

I frowned, "What's that got to do with this?"

"You've attempted to take your life right before your oldest son was born," James stated.

"This is not about me, this is about Naomi!" I slammed my fist on the kitchen table, "I need to get to the hospital!"

"We're trying to get to the bottom of things," he added, "did Robert contact her?"

"Just that morning," I said quickly, "then she changed her number--even her fuckin' phone."

"Did she say anything before you left?"

I shook my head, "No. No, she was fine, she was just cleaning...she was okay."

They both looked at each other and then said that that was it. They apologized for riling me up and then left. It was all such a big blur and such a surreal happening.

I couldn't really accept that Naomi was trying to kill herself. She couldn't and I don't believe she'd want to do that. But, it could've happened; I wasn't there to stop her or to know what was going on in that last hour.

"Pete?" My mom was close, her hand reached out and touched my shoulder, "Lee called, said Naomi's awake."

I exhaled, "I wanna go see her."

"Okay," she rubbed my shoulder, "be gentle."

"I'm not gonna do anything, I only wanna see her. I won't say or do anything."

My mom nodded shortly, "We'll be by later, give her our love."

"I will."

I got up, hugged my mom and proceeded out the door, shoving my hands into my pockets until I got to Naomi's car.