Ashes

“Twiggs, you have to eat something,” Ginger Fish said patiently, nudging the plate toward me again.
“Please?” Pogo added.
I barely looked up from where I had my chin propped up on my forearm at the kitchen table. “I’m not hungry.”
“It’s been two weeks,” John 5 said gently, rubbing my back.
I flinched at the touch.
“Just let it go. If he wants to starve to death, let him.” I could always count on Pogo to be the first to give up on consoling me or trying to force me into doing things I didn’t want to do.
“Well, you’re taking a shower today. That’s mandatory,” John told me.
I put my head back down into my arms. I knew that I was being overly stubborn, but I had a right to be. After all, my best friend was dead.
While the others ate, I sat with my head down, trying my best not to start crying again. It didn’t work. I was sobbing once again. It was practically all I did anymore.
John tried to hug me, but I didn’t want him to. I didn’t deserve compassion. It was my fault that Marilyn was dead.
We’d been happy, having fun. We’d just been on a world tour. We’d only been home for two days when Marilyn killed himself. He’d driven over a cliff, right into the ocean. It was no accident. We all knew that. Yet, the police considered it an accident, not suicide. There technically wasn’t any proof that it wasn’t an accident or that it was suicide.
I didn’t know what I’d done that had pushed him over the edge, so to say. Not literally, but mentally. He’d been having bouts of depression off and on, but during the last leg of the tour, they’d been at their worst. Some nights, he barely made it through the shows. Nothing the rest of us did seemed to cheer him up. I just knew that somehow, I’d let him down. I was the closest person to him. I should’ve known how bad things were. I should have stopped this from happening. He should’ve have been in a box in the ground.
It had been silent much too long. I was aware that I was being watched by six concerned eyes. I let out a pained sob.
“Oh, Twiggy,” John murmured softly. I could see tears forming in his eyes, too.
“You know, we all lost him,” Pogo said coolly.
“Yes, but it was different for Twiggy. They lived together. They were much closer than any of us were to him,” Ginger said in a calm voice.
I just sat there blubbering like a baby. Even Ginger couldn’t really understand. Marilyn was more than my best friend. He was the only person who had ever really understood me. It was like he was the other half of my soul. We had a bond that was likely stronger than most twins shared.
“Just give him another pill,” Pogo suggested.
John went to get my medication. Pills were always the solution. A pill to make you numb… Tears were streaming down my face.
“Here you go,” John said, shaking the little white pills into his palm.
I swallowed two. I didn’t like them, but I took them as a kindness to the others. They were really trying with me. I knew that they were worried that I’d try to kill myself. Since Marilyn’s death, one or more of them was always with me, at all times.
“Let’s put you in the shower. Maybe you’ll feel better,” John suggested.
“Can I take a bath?”
“I don’t think so. You might…”
I nodded. “I might drown.”
John nodded. He was the captain of the suicide watch squad.
I got up from the table, and went with the whole crew of my wardens to the shower in John’s huge master bathroom. After Marilyn’s funeral, John had packed three suitcases for me, and had taken me home with him. I was not allowed back into my own home. There were too many memories of Marilyn there. Once I was better, had had time to heal, his things would be shipped to his parents, mine would be moved out, and the house would be sold. It wasn’t what I wanted, but I didn’t have a choice in the matter.
After I showered, I changed into clean clothes. I had to admit, I did feel just the tiniest bit better. Of course, the pills were probably having a calming effect on me, too.
“Twiggy?” Ginger’s soft voice came from the other side of the bathroom door.
“Yeah?” I wrapped the towel around my wet hair and opened the door.
“Oh. Hi. I just…you should have this. John doesn’t want you to, but I think that I know what it is.” Ginger handed me a fairly thick envelope.
“Okay. Thanks.”
“Just…go in your room and read it. I’ll tell John that you’re taking a nap.”
I nodded. I wasn’t sure what the big secret was, but I figured that Ginger knew something that I didn’t. After all, he knew John a lot better than I did. The two of them were almost as close as Marilyn and I had been. I could tell, since he’d been spending more time with me, that he was the only one who even tried to understand that what I was going through was different from what any of the rest of them were dealing with. Losing him for me was what losing John would’ve been like for Ginger, and he got that.
I went to my room. It was big and sparsely decorated. The walls had recently been painted purple for me. I guess John figured that I was going to be living with him for quite some time. Actually, we’d all been living there. Ginger had already pretty much been staying there, and after Marilyn’s death, Pogo had decided that we might as well all be together.
I plopped down on my purple bedding and looked at the envelope in my hand. It was postmarked from Europe, four weeks ago. There was no return address, and my name and address were typed onto the front. What was the big mystery? What did John want to keep from me? I tore the envelope open. Several sheets of paper were neatly folded, and in the center, a photograph was carefully placed.
Tears filled my eyes, seeing the photograph of Marilyn and I. We were at a petting zoo. I was hugging a zebra, and he was giving me a halfhearted laugh. John had taken that picture. I remembered it. I unfolded the first page.
Dearest Twiggy,
I know that receiving this letter now must come as a surprise to you. After all, I’ve been gone for a week or two by now. I don’t really know what to say here. I know that you must be feeling so alone right now. I wish that I could make the hurt go away, but I know you, and I know that even time isn’t going to heal the wound I’ve caused you.
I want you to understand that this isn’t your fault. The truth is, you’re the only reason I’ve stuck it out this long. I’ve been unhappy for a long, long time. There’s so much pressure. You could never understand. Perhaps it’s better that you don’t. I’ve never been able to get over what happened to those children. It was my fault. I feel it, deep in my soul. I’m the reason those innocent children died. Me. I deserve to be with them, cold and rotting in the ground.
I’m sure you think I’m being overdramatic. Of course, it’s not just what happened in Colorado. There are so many horrible things that I’m responsible for. It’s too much, Twiggy. It’s more than I can bear.
As I’m writing you this, you’re sleeping beside me. You look so innocent. Promise me that you’ll stay innocent. Listen to John and Ginger and Pogo. They will take care of you until you’re stronger. I have more faith in them than I probably should, but they’re good guys. Even Pogo.
I’ve already decided how my life will end. Everything’s ready. It’s just a matter of time. I hate to leave you, but it’s the only way, my friend. You are so much stronger than you know. I have no doubt that you will be alright without me. I’ve made such careful plans. You won’t be the one to find my body. But you will be the first to know that I’m gone.
Please, Twiggy, smile for me. I know it hurts, but that’s okay. I’ll use this as the one time in my life to say something completely cheesy and ridiculous. I will always be with you. When you close your eyes and think of me, I’ll always be there. I will never truly leave you.
I suppose that’s all that needs to be said. Other than please, Twiggs, don’t blame yourself for my death. There’s nothing you could’ve done. This is fate. We’ll see each other again, one day. Just promise me as you’re reading this that when that day comes, you will be an old man who has lived a full, happy life, and has grown grandchildren who want to be just like you.
Goodbye, dear Twiggy. Know that I will always, always love you. You are the best friend I could’ve ever imagined. Never think that you let me down. You were always my ray of sunshine.
There are letters for John, Ginger, and Pogo enclosed. I have mailed a separate letter to my parents. If you need them, they are there for you. They always have loved you. I guess you’re their son, now. As close as they’ll ever have again, anyway.
I love you, Twiggy. Jeordie. Remember that for always.
Love,
Brian

There were tears in my eyes as I let the papers fall from my hands. Somehow, the words helped. I still didn’t fully understand, but I understood enough to know that he didn’t want me to live like this. I wondered how long John had had this letter hidden. I wanted to be angry with him, but I knew that Ginger was right, that he’d only intended to keep me from sliding further into depression.
I hid the envelope and the letters under my mattress, and lay down. I really did feel like taking a nap. I would give Ginger his letter, and Pogo his, too. I couldn’t give John his, he would know that somehow, I’d gotten the envelope, which he’d probably hidden somewhere that only Ginger could’ve managed to find.
There was a soft knock on the door. It opened just a crack. I could see Ginger in the tiny space of light.
“It’s okay,” I said softly.
He opened the door, and came inside. “It was from Marilyn, wasn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“A suicide note?”
“I guess so.”
“I really thought you should have it.”
“Thank you.”
“Are you glad that you read it? You did read it, didn’t you?”
“Yes, I did. And yes, I am.”
“Good.” He walked to the bed, and placed a gentle hand on my shoulder. “You’ll get through this, Twiggy. We all will.”
I nodded. For the first time in weeks, I actually believed that we would.