Survivin' - [B.C.]

Chapter 27: Small Candle

"Yeah... Well, you know how Ben is," she said with a distant look. "He's just a small candle floating in the middle of a sea of gasoline."

========= SURVIVIN' =========

Staying at home with Ben while Sophie was gone directly after a death was like walking on eggshells. Every step I took, I was constantly paranoid about what I could and couldn't see. Which places I might put my foot and how far I could get without crossing the line. How to care for a time bomb and not accidentally set it off. But I've never been good with diffusing anything.

Two days after Tracy Peacock's death, I was once again left home alone with Ben. What was highly concerning, though, is that today, he was much more... I don't know... alive. More alive than he had been for the previous two days. I don't necessarily mean that in a good way (I mean hell, when is being alive ever a good thing?) but it was definitely an accurate statement.

Prior to this day, Ben had been in a sort of brokenhearted stupor. Catatonic to the point of fully disassociating. He was breathing, sure, but something about his breaths were cold and shallow. Sort of like a ditch as winter is ending. But Ben has always been sort of like a ditch between seasons. You can jump over him, trudge through him, walk around him, or walk beside him, but whatever you're going to do, his mood (or "seasons") are eventually going to cause you to fall into him, and the landing won't always be so nice and soft.

And right now, I'm just trying not to slip on the mud and fall into the freezing water from the melting snow.

So I woke up like any normal person does in the morning. There was already this feeling of dread in the pit of my stomach. I already knew that I was going to have to tiptoe around landmines. I already knew that I had to do everything just right and perfect if I didn't want Ben to have another breakdown. I knew he was attached to his sister, but...

Music. There was music coming from the kitchen.

I peered from the balcony off to where the kitchen door was placed. It was wide open, and the music was accompanied by the sound of things being clanked around. Very confused and mildly terrified, I descended the stairs and snuck up to the kitchen door. I peeked into the room.

Ben was mumble-singing the words to some Pink Floyd song, wiggling his body in a small dance as he makes what appeared to be pancakes. I did literally stand there for a minute, completely dumbfounded.

Why is... what? Is he... okay...?

I stood back away from the door for a second and took a deep breath. Once I had regained my composure, I walked in.

"Hey... good morning, Ben!" I said with the most convincing tone I could. He glanced at me as he flipped a pancake.

"Oh, hello, love!" He chirped. He opened his free arm for a side hug, which I obliged to partake in.

"How did you sleep?" Ben asked as I grabbed a mug from the cabinet.

"Fine..." I said, starting to pour some of the coffee Ben had previously made into my mug. "How about you?"

"Oh, fine," Ben replied. He tossed me a quick smile. A very convincing one, at that.

I reciprocated his expression as I turned my attention back to the dark brown liquid filling my coffee mug. The warm sensation tingled in my fingertips that were wrapped around the clay.

"How are you feeling today, Ben?" I asked with a sincerely concerned tone. I placed the coffee pitcher back into its place and took a sip from my mug. Ben didn't even give me a glance or try a smile this time.