Status: Complete
What He Left Behind
'Are You Scared?'
For the next few days, I don’t leave the house once. Everything has gone wrong as I so badly feared it would and if my mother gets to hide away from all her problems then so do I. I don’t prepare the dinner like I always do and I don’t clean the house like I always do and I don’t take care of my mother like I always do. Thank god we’re on Thanksgiving break because I know I wouldn’t be able to manage going to school like I always do. I struggle just to get out of bed so there’s no way I could cope with going to school. I feel so isolated and alone. There are only two people in the world that could make me feel better and one of them is dead and the other one is headed that way.
On the Monday, I feel angry; my mother has yet to apologise for hitting me. What sort of woman can hit her own daughter and not so much as have the decency to apologise? My father hasn’t even tried to make excuses for her. After what happened on Sunday morning, my mother and I went back to our rooms and early the next morning my father fucked off back to work just like he always does and none of us have spoken to each other since. I’m sick to death of telling them time and time again what they are doing wrong and how they make me feel like crap, only for them to persistently ignore me. They’re not being proper parents and I can’t for one second see what drove them to have kids in the first place if they can’t actually take care of them.
I feel angry because Charlie hasn’t made any effort to contact me. I wonder if he remembers that I looked after him when all the rest of his friends, quite rightly, left him. It pisses me off that I waste my time looking after him when he gets himself into a mess, only to get fuck all in return. He knows how much his addiction affects me but he never does anything about it.
I feel angry because Austin left me when he knew how much I loved him and how much I did for him. He knew I depended on him and he knew how much I needed him but he didn’t even think about me when he injected so much heroin his frail body couldn’t handle it. I gave up my social life, my goals and ambitions, and my peace of mind so that I could look after him because looking after a drug addict is a fucking full time job. I didn’t do it out of choice. I did it because I loved him. How I wish we got to choose who we love, because I sure as hell would like to love people who aren’t addicted to slowly killing themselves.
-
By the Wednesday, the anger has subdued and hurt comes into play. I’m upset with my mother because I never thought she’d go so far as to hit me. Most kids run to their mums for support when they’re upset. I’ve never been able to do that and it sucks.
I’m upset by my father because he hasn’t once checked whether I’m okay. Does he not care enough to even wonder whether I’m hurt?
I’m upset by Charlie because he still hasn’t made any effort to contact me and I hate that I keep trying to help him because I care about him so much even though it feels like he couldn’t care less about me. The good parts of our friendship are so good and I can’t bear to distance myself from him but I’m struggling enough to look after myself, let alone him aswell.
I’m upset by Austin leaving because I miss his laugh and I miss how he would take me down town to get ice-cream whenever I’d had a bad day and I miss how he would help me with my English papers when I was inundated with homework. I miss him so much and I can’t cope without him. None of us can cope without him.
-
When Friday comes around, having spent Thanksgiving alone, the hurt has been replaced by guilt. I feel guilty because I pushed my mother over the edge. She’s never ever been violent in any way, shape or form, so I must have really hurt her with what I said. She’s probably struggling just as much as I am but now I’ve made things even worse.
I feel guilty because I swore at my dad and didn’t appreciate how hard he works to keep a roof over my head and accused him of being a bad parent even though I have it so much better than some kids who don’t have parents at all.
I feel guilty because I’m being so hypocritical towards Charlie because I haven’t actually tried to contact him either. He always comes to see me when I’m ill or upset or whatever, yet when he’s having problems of his own, I’m not there to support him. Addiction is an illness and I can’t expect him to miraculously recover because I told him to.
I feel guilty because I let my poor brother die. I didn’t check on him and I wasn’t there when he needed me most. I could have saved him. If I’d have tried harder, he would still be alive. My wonderful brother was always there for me yet I was unable to do the same for him.
-
Once Saturday arrives, I am no longer consumed by anger or controlled by hurt or weighed down by guilt, so logic begins to make sense of everything that has been clouding my brain for the past week. I think carefully about everything that is bothering me and I think carefully about how I can sort it out.
I begin by getting up and dressed, because just that simple act makes me feel a thousand times better. Then I make my mother some breakfast and take it to her in bed. She sits up and I hug her and she apologises and I say it’s okay.
Since it is still early on in the day, I figure that Charlie should have only just woken up, so I will in theory be able to catch him sober. I haven’t seen him sober since I cried like an idiot the morning after the party. As I walk to Charlie’s house, I find myself smiling to myself for the first time in days, because just the mere thought of seeing him is enough to brighten even the darkest of times.
-
“Hello stranger,” Charlie smirks as he opens the front door, his raspy morning voice confirming my suspicions he hasn’t been awake long. I chew on my lip to hide the smile that can’t keep from crossing my face.
“What can you possibly be so happy about this early in the morning?” he asks, narrowing his eyes. I don’t know what to say so I just wrap my arms around his neck and pull him into the tightest hug I can manage because I feel the need to be as close to him as is physically possible. He laughs in surprise and snakes his arms around my waist, pulling me so closely into his body that I can feel his heartbeat. I nuzzle my head into the crook of his neck and press my lips to his skin, inhaling his scent which I’ve missed so much. We stay in each other’s embrace for the longest time and all the bad feelings from the previous week disappear and my stomach is filled with butterflies and everything is okay again.
“I missed you,” I whisper.
“Clearly,” he laughs, “I missed you too kiddo. And your suffocating hugs.”
“Sorry,” I blush, releasing him from my arms and stepping back slightly. “Can we go out today?”
“What?”
“I know it’s last minute but I really want to do something fun.”
“What do you want to do?”
I think for a second, conjuring up marvellous plans of how we could spend our day. Charlie looks completely uninterested as he rubs his eyes, still tired from being woken up, and most likely hungover aswell, if I know Charlie.
“Can we go swimming in the river?”
“Fuck no.”
“Why not? I’ve been here for two months and I haven’t been swimming in the Sac River yet. It looks like so much fun.”
“Why don’t you go with your friends or something? I’ve only just woken up, or been woken up should I say.”
“Sorry,” I apologise, biting on my lip. He just shakes his head and rolls his eyes. “Charlie, I really
want to hang out with you.”
“Then let’s hang out here.”
“I want to go out though.” He stares at me for a long time and I stare back, both of us refusing to back down. Eventually, I sense Charlie starting to crack and a smile spreads across my face as he sighs in annoyance.
“You’re so frustrating. Give me ten minutes.”
-
About two hours later, having stopped for lunch on the way, we arrive at Brannan Island State Park which is, according to Charlie, the best part of the river to go swimming in. It is the end of November so the park isn’t too crowded. Charlie parks up his van and I’m so excited I practically leap out of my seat and run towards the shop. We hire wetsuits because the water’s cold at this time of year and buoyancy aids because I’m not the strongest swimmer.
“It’s gonna be cold you know?” Charlie reminds me as I stand at the water’s edge. I take a towel out of my bag and hang it over the railing ready for when I’m too cold to swim anymore. Charlie does the same. I step closer to the water and it touches my toes and it takes me a millisecond to realise that it is inhumanely cold.
“Told you,” Charlie smirks as I shiver.
“I have an idea,” I say as I come back out of the water and start walking towards the entrance to the park. Just outside of the entrance, where the Sac River meets Threemile Slough, there was a bridge that went over the water which didn’t look too high, and I figure that if I jump off of that, maybe I’ll adjust to the temperature quicker.
“What are you doing?”
“We can jump off of the bridge.”
“Don’t be stupid. The sign says that you’re not allowed to do that.”
“And you’ve never done something you’re not allowed to do before?” I tease, as I clamber up the railing on the side of the bridge, swivelling my legs over, “Live a little. It will be fun.” Charlie stares at me for a few seconds, clearly not convinced.
“Are you scared?” I ask, purposely winding him up.
“Don’t even go there.”
“You’re scared, aren’t you?” I persist, and if his facial expression is anything to go by, Charlie is clearly not amused. I hold his gaze, grinning widely until he finally cracks a smile and gives in.
“I’m gonna shove you in the fucking river in a second,” he sighs, climbing up the railing to where I am. We sit side by side, dangling our legs just a few meters above the water. It is silent, aside from the flowing of the water and the sound of cars in the distance and in a strange sort of way, it feels like we have the whole world to ourselves.
“You first,” Charlie urges, nodding at me.
“Why me?”
“Are you scared?”
“No.”
“Go on then.”
“Fine,” I concede, taking a deep breath before pushing myself away from the bridge and jumping. I fall a few feet and then hit the water, my whole body temporarily going under. When I come up, I am shivering thanks to the cold and shaking with adrenaline, and Charlie is laughing.
“Is it cold?” he asks me as I push the loose strands of hair out of my face.
“Yeah,” I shout, before adding, just to tease him, “You don’t have to do it if you don’t want.”
Charlie gets to his feet and climbs up the side of the bridge until he is higher up on the metal structure. I shield my eyes from the sun and look up to see him smirking, the mischievous look in his eyes clearer than ever. This is the Charlie I like; the funny mischievous, crazy Charlie. I just wish he knew when to draw the line sometimes.
“You ready?” he asks, but doesn’t even give me time to respond before he jumps off of the bridge, flipping mid-air before landing in the water with a splash.
“Something tells me you’ve done this before,” I muse when he surfaces, water dripping from his face
and his hair. He laughs that same laugh Austin always did and suddenly all is good in the world.
“I used to come down here with Stan and my brother when we were kids. We’d be here every weekend,” he explains, before adding with a satisfied smirk, “So no, I’m not scared. I’ve been doing this since I was nine.”
On the Monday, I feel angry; my mother has yet to apologise for hitting me. What sort of woman can hit her own daughter and not so much as have the decency to apologise? My father hasn’t even tried to make excuses for her. After what happened on Sunday morning, my mother and I went back to our rooms and early the next morning my father fucked off back to work just like he always does and none of us have spoken to each other since. I’m sick to death of telling them time and time again what they are doing wrong and how they make me feel like crap, only for them to persistently ignore me. They’re not being proper parents and I can’t for one second see what drove them to have kids in the first place if they can’t actually take care of them.
I feel angry because Charlie hasn’t made any effort to contact me. I wonder if he remembers that I looked after him when all the rest of his friends, quite rightly, left him. It pisses me off that I waste my time looking after him when he gets himself into a mess, only to get fuck all in return. He knows how much his addiction affects me but he never does anything about it.
I feel angry because Austin left me when he knew how much I loved him and how much I did for him. He knew I depended on him and he knew how much I needed him but he didn’t even think about me when he injected so much heroin his frail body couldn’t handle it. I gave up my social life, my goals and ambitions, and my peace of mind so that I could look after him because looking after a drug addict is a fucking full time job. I didn’t do it out of choice. I did it because I loved him. How I wish we got to choose who we love, because I sure as hell would like to love people who aren’t addicted to slowly killing themselves.
-
By the Wednesday, the anger has subdued and hurt comes into play. I’m upset with my mother because I never thought she’d go so far as to hit me. Most kids run to their mums for support when they’re upset. I’ve never been able to do that and it sucks.
I’m upset by my father because he hasn’t once checked whether I’m okay. Does he not care enough to even wonder whether I’m hurt?
I’m upset by Charlie because he still hasn’t made any effort to contact me and I hate that I keep trying to help him because I care about him so much even though it feels like he couldn’t care less about me. The good parts of our friendship are so good and I can’t bear to distance myself from him but I’m struggling enough to look after myself, let alone him aswell.
I’m upset by Austin leaving because I miss his laugh and I miss how he would take me down town to get ice-cream whenever I’d had a bad day and I miss how he would help me with my English papers when I was inundated with homework. I miss him so much and I can’t cope without him. None of us can cope without him.
-
When Friday comes around, having spent Thanksgiving alone, the hurt has been replaced by guilt. I feel guilty because I pushed my mother over the edge. She’s never ever been violent in any way, shape or form, so I must have really hurt her with what I said. She’s probably struggling just as much as I am but now I’ve made things even worse.
I feel guilty because I swore at my dad and didn’t appreciate how hard he works to keep a roof over my head and accused him of being a bad parent even though I have it so much better than some kids who don’t have parents at all.
I feel guilty because I’m being so hypocritical towards Charlie because I haven’t actually tried to contact him either. He always comes to see me when I’m ill or upset or whatever, yet when he’s having problems of his own, I’m not there to support him. Addiction is an illness and I can’t expect him to miraculously recover because I told him to.
I feel guilty because I let my poor brother die. I didn’t check on him and I wasn’t there when he needed me most. I could have saved him. If I’d have tried harder, he would still be alive. My wonderful brother was always there for me yet I was unable to do the same for him.
-
Once Saturday arrives, I am no longer consumed by anger or controlled by hurt or weighed down by guilt, so logic begins to make sense of everything that has been clouding my brain for the past week. I think carefully about everything that is bothering me and I think carefully about how I can sort it out.
I begin by getting up and dressed, because just that simple act makes me feel a thousand times better. Then I make my mother some breakfast and take it to her in bed. She sits up and I hug her and she apologises and I say it’s okay.
Since it is still early on in the day, I figure that Charlie should have only just woken up, so I will in theory be able to catch him sober. I haven’t seen him sober since I cried like an idiot the morning after the party. As I walk to Charlie’s house, I find myself smiling to myself for the first time in days, because just the mere thought of seeing him is enough to brighten even the darkest of times.
-
“Hello stranger,” Charlie smirks as he opens the front door, his raspy morning voice confirming my suspicions he hasn’t been awake long. I chew on my lip to hide the smile that can’t keep from crossing my face.
“What can you possibly be so happy about this early in the morning?” he asks, narrowing his eyes. I don’t know what to say so I just wrap my arms around his neck and pull him into the tightest hug I can manage because I feel the need to be as close to him as is physically possible. He laughs in surprise and snakes his arms around my waist, pulling me so closely into his body that I can feel his heartbeat. I nuzzle my head into the crook of his neck and press my lips to his skin, inhaling his scent which I’ve missed so much. We stay in each other’s embrace for the longest time and all the bad feelings from the previous week disappear and my stomach is filled with butterflies and everything is okay again.
“I missed you,” I whisper.
“Clearly,” he laughs, “I missed you too kiddo. And your suffocating hugs.”
“Sorry,” I blush, releasing him from my arms and stepping back slightly. “Can we go out today?”
“What?”
“I know it’s last minute but I really want to do something fun.”
“What do you want to do?”
I think for a second, conjuring up marvellous plans of how we could spend our day. Charlie looks completely uninterested as he rubs his eyes, still tired from being woken up, and most likely hungover aswell, if I know Charlie.
“Can we go swimming in the river?”
“Fuck no.”
“Why not? I’ve been here for two months and I haven’t been swimming in the Sac River yet. It looks like so much fun.”
“Why don’t you go with your friends or something? I’ve only just woken up, or been woken up should I say.”
“Sorry,” I apologise, biting on my lip. He just shakes his head and rolls his eyes. “Charlie, I really
want to hang out with you.”
“Then let’s hang out here.”
“I want to go out though.” He stares at me for a long time and I stare back, both of us refusing to back down. Eventually, I sense Charlie starting to crack and a smile spreads across my face as he sighs in annoyance.
“You’re so frustrating. Give me ten minutes.”
-
About two hours later, having stopped for lunch on the way, we arrive at Brannan Island State Park which is, according to Charlie, the best part of the river to go swimming in. It is the end of November so the park isn’t too crowded. Charlie parks up his van and I’m so excited I practically leap out of my seat and run towards the shop. We hire wetsuits because the water’s cold at this time of year and buoyancy aids because I’m not the strongest swimmer.
“It’s gonna be cold you know?” Charlie reminds me as I stand at the water’s edge. I take a towel out of my bag and hang it over the railing ready for when I’m too cold to swim anymore. Charlie does the same. I step closer to the water and it touches my toes and it takes me a millisecond to realise that it is inhumanely cold.
“Told you,” Charlie smirks as I shiver.
“I have an idea,” I say as I come back out of the water and start walking towards the entrance to the park. Just outside of the entrance, where the Sac River meets Threemile Slough, there was a bridge that went over the water which didn’t look too high, and I figure that if I jump off of that, maybe I’ll adjust to the temperature quicker.
“What are you doing?”
“We can jump off of the bridge.”
“Don’t be stupid. The sign says that you’re not allowed to do that.”
“And you’ve never done something you’re not allowed to do before?” I tease, as I clamber up the railing on the side of the bridge, swivelling my legs over, “Live a little. It will be fun.” Charlie stares at me for a few seconds, clearly not convinced.
“Are you scared?” I ask, purposely winding him up.
“Don’t even go there.”
“You’re scared, aren’t you?” I persist, and if his facial expression is anything to go by, Charlie is clearly not amused. I hold his gaze, grinning widely until he finally cracks a smile and gives in.
“I’m gonna shove you in the fucking river in a second,” he sighs, climbing up the railing to where I am. We sit side by side, dangling our legs just a few meters above the water. It is silent, aside from the flowing of the water and the sound of cars in the distance and in a strange sort of way, it feels like we have the whole world to ourselves.
“You first,” Charlie urges, nodding at me.
“Why me?”
“Are you scared?”
“No.”
“Go on then.”
“Fine,” I concede, taking a deep breath before pushing myself away from the bridge and jumping. I fall a few feet and then hit the water, my whole body temporarily going under. When I come up, I am shivering thanks to the cold and shaking with adrenaline, and Charlie is laughing.
“Is it cold?” he asks me as I push the loose strands of hair out of my face.
“Yeah,” I shout, before adding, just to tease him, “You don’t have to do it if you don’t want.”
Charlie gets to his feet and climbs up the side of the bridge until he is higher up on the metal structure. I shield my eyes from the sun and look up to see him smirking, the mischievous look in his eyes clearer than ever. This is the Charlie I like; the funny mischievous, crazy Charlie. I just wish he knew when to draw the line sometimes.
“You ready?” he asks, but doesn’t even give me time to respond before he jumps off of the bridge, flipping mid-air before landing in the water with a splash.
“Something tells me you’ve done this before,” I muse when he surfaces, water dripping from his face
and his hair. He laughs that same laugh Austin always did and suddenly all is good in the world.
“I used to come down here with Stan and my brother when we were kids. We’d be here every weekend,” he explains, before adding with a satisfied smirk, “So no, I’m not scared. I’ve been doing this since I was nine.”