Delirium

A few days passed and not much changed in the Clapp household. Johnny went through the motions of care for his withdrawn, sick sister and did his best to keep his mind off how long it would be until he had to have her hospitalized. Whether Novak would be able to do anything for her, he had no idea... Maybe it was out of his league. It was certainly out of Johnny’s.

There was a loud banging on his front door, and Johnny leapt from his armchair with more enthusiasm than he’d managed to muster for weeks. His joints ached with stiffness as he shuffled towards the door, pulling the handle hard.

On his doorstep stood the utter spectacle of Bam Margera and Brandon Novak, in all their glory. They stumbled inside, throwing off their duffle bags and kicking them to one side of the open space.

“Dude!” Novak jumped on Johnny and pulled him in for a big man-hug.
“Wassup!” Bam also joined in the manly hugs with a greeting.
“Come sit down we’ll have coffee and I’ll fill y’all in.” Johnny gestured to his luxurious kitchen, preparing himself for the painful experience of passing on the recent events concerning his sibling.
_______

“I’m sorry, Knoxville, I’ll do what I can but you ought to know that we don’t get better unless we want to. And even then it can be a long road to any sort of recovery and-“

“Novak, I just appreciate you bein’ here. You of all people can just show me where I can start trying to help.” Johnny clapped the other guy on the back in a manly show of gratitude.

“Alright, man.” Brandon Novak shrugged. It was hard to talk to someone in Johnny’s position when you’d been on the other side. It brought back some unpleasant memories of his lowest moments, and his mothers sad eyes when she’d looked at him in state similar to Alex’s.

The men sat around for another hour, trying to figure out how best to go about this plan. Considering the amount of time Johnny had spent caring for his sister recently, he really didn’t have a clue about her mental situation.

Novak listened to Bam and Johnny as though from a distance. They were suggesting treatments, hospitals, rehab centres, home care assistants. But it bothered him. He stood up and announced he was going to use the toilet; moved from the living room and softly began to climb the stairs in search of the girl.

It took him only a couple of tries to find the right room. Johnny’s house was spacious, but her door was the only one shut. Taking a breath, he knocked thrice on the door and when there was no reply he looked in anyway.

His stomach wrenched as his took in the blonde girl in the bed.

She was so small she was barely noticeable amongst the comforter and the cushions. The only indication she was in the bed was the shock of peroxide tangled in the middle of it all, and the sharp rise and fall of shallow breaths.

He was about to leave, assessing that she was either asleep or too frail to face an ambush from him right this moment, without Johnny there as a trustworthy face, but there was a croak from the bed and an attempt at movement. She’d seen him, and she was trying to say something.

He walked over slowly, curiously, and sat himself down next to her bed so she could see him from where lay.

“W-w-who a-r-re y-y-y-you?” Her teeth were jittering like she was cold and shivering despite the pile of blankets she was immersed in.

“Hi, I’m Brandon Novak. I’m a friend of your brothers,” he smiled gently, “I thought I should come and introduce myself.”

If she could have found the energy to frown, her brow would have furrowed deeply in confusion.

“Why?” She practically whispered. The last syllable caught in her throat and she started to choke on it, the hacking sound pitifully quiet but racking her body with jerking movements that seemed to drag the very last of her life-force from her with every breath.

He picked up a bottle of water from her bedside table, and held it to her mouth. She managed to take the tiniest of sips, the water wetting her chapped broken lips and relieving her coughing.

“You’re very sick, Alex.” Novak sighed, his heart thudding in his chest. “I used to be very sick like you, a few years ago. That’s why I thought I should say hello.”

Her eyes were sad and full of fear as she struggled to calm her breaths after the coughing fit. She managed to look past the wetness that welled and leaked from her eyes to see him looking at her with empathy written all over his features and pain etched across his face. It reflected her own inner pain and she knew that he didn’t just mean her depression, but everything. His eyes said a thousand words that could never be uttered or understood by a normal person. It was a secret language between them that spoke of only the misery an addict could recognise.

He found her bony wrist and took her inked hand in his.

Relief flooded through her and in reaction, her eyes fluttered shut and she slept the best she had in years.