Short stories

Fearless pt.2

CHAPTER TWO

Blood. There was blood on my hands. And on the seat beside me. Where my sister was supposed to be. She was smiling, her laughter filling the car only minutes ago.  But now it was too quiet.  Painstakingly quiet. I never liked the quiet. I looked over at the passenger seat again, this time Hex was there. Her eyes pierced mine, her mouth hung open and blood ran out. She was trying to speak. To say something. To blame me. But she couldn't. All she could do was choke on her own blood.
"Y-your fault...'s your fault. i...t your fault."
She kept trying to speak.
Over and over, only to be choked with more blood. Too much blood. She was losing too much blood. She was losing too much blood and I was losing my sister.
"Shhh, shhh. It's okay, Hex. It's okay." I want to reach out, to grab her hand, to make it all better with a touch. But as I tried to, I realized my hands were stuck. Hex, realizing I was struggling, shook her head and tried to speak once again.
"I..nt....your-f-fault." She was right, it was my fault. I watched as a tear slipped down her cheek, mixing with the blood that dripped from her lip.
"I know it's my fault Hex. I'm so sorry." Choking out the words was like a nightmare. This whole thing was my fault. She was only out because I wanted to get wasted. I had convinced her that I was sober enough to drive. I had convinced her to get a drink with me. She was dying and it was all my fault.
***
The room was ice cold when I woke, shivers racking my body. My blanket had been discarded at some point last night, now leaving my body bare to the world. Teeth chattering as I remembered the dream. My heart was heavier than my feet as I sat up in bed, glancing at the night stand. The clock read '4:52'. The bright red numbers, a cruel reminder that sleeping wasn't getting any easier. I sigh, remembering the same dream I've had for the past week now.
It's always Hex. I'm always the one driving. And she's always the one that dies. It replays over and over again until my brain is satisfied with the torture it has induced. Each night, becoming more vivid than the last. It always felt like there was more blood each night. The puddle at my feet always seemed to grow in size. Each night, Hex would try to tell me something, always choking on the words. And each night I would blame myself more and more for her death.
Sighing, I muster up any strength left in my body and pull myself out of bed. The ground is cold and the air is stale as I walk to the kitchen, coming to stand in front of the fridge. I just stand there, unmoving for a few seconds before I break down. The tears, the silent cries, they all hit me at once.
She's gone. She's gone and she's not coming back. You killed her. You and your selfish needs killed her.
The voices weren't mine, yet somehow they were. They were me but not a version of me I wanted. They were the truth and I couldn't face them. It was too ugly to look at. Like a mirror that reflected reality. Looking into it, I'd see the truth, the pain and the loss. The truth being that I deserved it. I never deserved a sister like Hex. I never deserved someone who loved me so unconditionally. She was too good to me. Too kind and forgiving. She never held my flaws or mistakes against me. She learned to love them and understand that they were a part of who I was. And I took it for granted. Thinking she'd always be there to love me no matter what I fucked up.
I hated crying, I hated losing control of my emotions when sober. Control was my only outlet and I hate losing any grasp I had on it. Sober me and Not sober me where two different people. I hated both. Each one had their own flaws that were equally unlikable. One had control, the other had none. Both were outspoken, but sober me had more of a filter. When sober me was scared to face the world, the other would take control. The bottle was a weapon I chose to wield instead of facing reality. And right now, reality was too ugly to be completely sober for.
Wiping my eyes, I stood in search of something. I didn't even bother with a glass, I drank straight from the bottle, letting the poison dance its way down my throat. The burn was heavenly. Pain was a beautiful distraction that I had come to love. It didn't hurt as much as the knife in my heart, but it was strong enough to distract me for a moment. And then the moment was gone. I needed another drink. And another. And another. Until the bottle was empty and I found myself lying on the cold floor.
Ice in my heart and ice on my skin. Both cold and both invited. Pain was the only thing I deserved in this life. Pain and suffering and loss. Those were the cards I'd been dealt. I'm not going to sit and cry over it. I don't expect much from the world. I won't ask for much, either. I'm content with what I have. But losing my sister, the one person who thought I deserved the world, that wasn't fair. And I was allowed to cry over that. I'll drink for her. To her. I'll drink to losing the one person who was always there for me. And so I drink. And I cry.
It should have been me.
****
Light pours through the window, warming my face. My body was in an odd, hunched over position, my joints aching as a result of sleeping in such a way. The hammering in my head makes opening my eyes a chore as I force myself to stand. I hear footsteps behind me, someone entering the room. I hear them sigh before I turn to see Phoenix in a black suit fixing his sleeves. I give him a weird look as I walk to the fridge, grabbing a bottle of water and chugging it.
"You need to be ready by 12." He states, looking at me with a blank expression. I can read him though, knowing damn well what he wants to say.
You shouldn't be drinking. Today isn't about you. You're being selfish.
And the funny thing is, I don't hate him for what he wants to say. Because it's all the truth. All the things I'd been telling myself last night as I nursed the bottle.
"Give me a minute. I'll be ready by 12, don't worry." I waved him off, heading to my room. I heard him mumble 'how could I not?'  Under his breath, but chose to ignore it, for both our sakes. And for Hex.
Closing my door, I let my weight fall against it. I stand there for a breath, looking at nothing in particular. I know what's coming. I know what today is going to be like. And I am not emotionally prepared for it. I don't know if I have the strength to face it. So I dress myself silently, thinking of anything but what lies ahead. I focus on my head ache and the throb in my back. The pain keeping my other thoughts at bay.
Even as Phoenix and I make our way to the car I'm still focused on the pain. As we pull into the parking lot, I dig my nails into my palm, letting the pain ground me and focus all my attention to that one spot. Walking down the rows of seated people, I focus on my hand. Looking into the casket, at what's supposed to be Hex, I focus on my hand. The pain is the only thing that is keeping me sane in that moment. In the moments where we lower her into the ground, it takes all that is within me not to jump into the casket with her. To cause a scene and beg them to bury me alongside my sister.
Phoenix holds tight to my other hand in those last few moments, as if afraid that I might actually jump into the grave. I hold on to him just as tightly, needing him to know that I'm still here. Even if I shouldn't be, even if I don't want to be, I'm still here.
And then, somehow it is already night time. I find myself with a bottle, sitting in front of the headstone. Phoenix at home, probably already crying in Hex's room. I let my fingers rest against the name, Hex Light, age 22. I don't read anything past that. I let my eyes burn holes into those letters, engraving them into my mind. And I drink. I drink till the letters are blurry and the pain in my chest is gone. Until I don't feel like the weight of her gravestone is on top of me and I don't see her standing beside me. I drink and I drink until the bottles empty and there's no more to drink. And then I let myself go.
I start to scream like an infant. Flailing my arms and hollering. I cry and scream until I have nothing left in me to fight with. Then, when my energy is gone along with my will to be, I lay down beside my sisters head stone, closing my eyes and letting sleep overcome me.