The Unexplainable You.

Part Thirteen. Asher.

"This will be a quick procedure." Dr. Taylor says as a nurse mills around the room, starting me on the sedative. "It should also be practically painless, don't worry about it."

I smile tightly, the florescent lights sending glaring spots into my vision. The IV in my arm stings, and the tube down my throat burns.

"Why are we doing this again?" I ask, my eyelids already feeling a bit heavy.

"Because," Jenna tells me, giving me a light pat on the arm. "After your incident on Monday, we need to test you, especially after all of the side effects you've been showing-"

I don't hear the rest of her words, I'm already lost in the darkness I've grown far too fond of.

***

This is one of the only times that I don't dream on the night my dad left. Instead, Portland sits in my dream, at the end of my bed, her fingers plucking away at my guitar. A soft melody coming from the instrument, better than the music I ever played.

"You sound great." I tell her once the last note trails out. She smiles, a beautiful thing. Like everything is right for a moment, even if just for a moment.

"Sing for me?" I beg, leaning back onto the stiff hospital mattress. She sighs, flopping back onto the bed, her brown hair falling around her face, like waves in the ocean.

"I'm not sure Ash. I don't sing all that often anymore."

I stick out my lower lip, giving her the ultimate pouty face.

"Fiiiine." She groans, picking up the guitar from where she propped it on the floor, settling it over her , letting her fingers find the strings.

She begins to strum, humming along with the tune, her voice soft and sweet with an angel-like tone.

"Tell me something you've never told before, 

before I walk through the door, oh I adore you I adore you. I do'

 Her voice floats over the words like butter, warm. Something I could listen to for hours on end. I close my eyes, savoring the sound like something rare I might never get again. Like for instance, the love of my father.

"Smile with me and cry with me, I won't ever tell a soul.

 Hold my hand I'll squeeze it back, and I'll never let go."

I remember this song, I listened to it when I was younger. It's by a band my sister really likes.

"Never give up, never look back, I won't give up, I'll keep on trying. 

Dry your tears up, all your crying. Cannot fix me up, my darling"

The song brings back memories of  being young, six or seven maybe, sitting in a hospital bed, staying up late nights trying to learn it to surprise my sister. The bloody fingers from playing so often and the tears of frustration. 

After a while the nurses had to take my guitar away. They said the stress wasn't good for me, which might be true. I still didn't talk to any of them till they gave it back.

Before I know it, the song is over. She sits back, placing the guitar gingerly back in it's case. I stare at her, my mind not even being able to comprehend the sight I just saw. 

I promise, I'm not love-crazy.  It was just really, really good.

What? Don't look at me like that!

"That," I manage, my voice catching in my throat. "That was really good."

Her cheeks turn a furious color of red, her eyes divert to her hands. 

"Haha, thanks." She says, running her hands through her hair. 

"No, really." I insist. "It was amazing."

She bites her lip, smiling. "Thank you."

***

The light shining above me is far too bright, piercing my eyes. I blink a few times, waiting for the burning sensation to go away. It doesn't. 

"Good morning." My sister hums from somewhere off to my right. "I would have preferred you told me you were going into surgery, before getting a call from Dr. Taylor, but I know 'A dying man can't remember everything.'"

I throw my hand over my eye, the joints in my arm groaning in protest.

"I'm sorry Gen," I mumble, my head throbbing, "I was going to tell you but I never found the time-"

"You never found the time?" She snaps. "You couldn't have told me last night when we hung out, or even maybe this morning when I brought you your monthly supply of books? Six hours ago."

"Gosh, I'm sorry, Okay? I didn't even know until this morning, and you were so excited about telling me about your boyfriend, and your new job, I didn't want to bring the mood down."

I roll over to look at her, her hair rumpled and her eyes dark.

"You need to tell me these things, Ash. It's not fair to me, or mom."

The mention of my mom twists my gut. I haven't seen her in three years. First she was working all the time, then she got in with the wrong people, then jail for six months, then she started drinking. 

She called me one night a few weeks ago. Just yelled at me for five minutes about how everything that had ever gone wrong in her life. My dad leaving, her getting in with the mob, not being able to pay her bills. I was too stunned to hang up.

"Don't bring mom into this." I choke. "Please."

I can see the tears in her eyes, how much even thinking of our mom hurts both of us.

"I'm gonna go." She tells me, standing up. "I'll see you later."

She left without looking back.