Addiction (Jim x Tilly - The Basketball Diaries fic)

Chapter 33. A memory

Jim
I visited Tilly every single day for a month after the funeral. Flowers upon flowers laid around her grave. I added to the pile each day. I always made sure it all looked tidy around her. It's what she deserves - to be cared for and looked after.

Her headstone shone in the mid-morning sun. It beamed down on me, just like her eyes. It felt like she was really here with me. Every day I sat with her for hours. Sometimes talking, sometimes not. The first two weeks, all I did was cry my pain out and tell her about how much I missed her. I had too many negative emotions running around my body. The past two weeks my tears had dried up a little as I processed all of this. I just talked to her about my days and memories from our past together. Sometimes tears came and I welcomed them.

Today though, I had nothing to really say. I'd worn out everything to talk about, and I hadn't really done much recently apart from mope around in my bed and argue with Mom about the drugs. It had all been a bit too shit lately.
So I just sat there instead, looking up at the sky. 'Maybe she's up there' I thought. I took a hand and gently placed my palm against the headstone, moving my thumb up and down like I used to do with her hair. The same way I used to run my fingers through them. I so heavily missed feeling the softness of her blonde locks. I wish I could touch her just one more time. Pain seared through my mind and into my soul as my hand contacted with the stone. Not a physical pain. It was a mental pain. A pain that will never go away. It may get less, but it will never leave me. A permanent mark.
Whooshes of cars sped past the cemetery, the city never stopping. Sirens blared out constantly, the sound forever bringing a numbing sensation to me. From now on, I'd be stuck in this bottomless pit without Tilly.

Around midday, the church clock chimed out twelve tedious gongs to signal the time. I'd spent 4 hours just sitting here in silence. Time passed by with no meaning now.
"Bye bye Tils, see you tomorrow love" I spoke to her grave, pressing the tips of my fingers to my mouth and giving them a quick kiss, planting it on the photo of her that stood by her stone. It was a photo of her from last year, just before we ended things.

I'd taken a photo of her dancing to some vinyl track she had on. Her hair had been whipped around and messed up. I still thought she looked so pretty. In the photo, I'd managed to catch her face as she spun round to meet me. Her eyes were lit up like bright lights in a Christmas market, the smile plastered on her face dazzled the happiness she was feeling, the sound of her delightful laughter like music to my ears, flowing through my soul. She was so angelic in every aspect. I'd forever treasured that photo. I'd had a copy made of it the day after her funeral, and I brought the spare one here to leave so passers by knew what she looked like.

My heart leapt at the memory, a sad smile drying across my face. God I'm so in love with that girl. Even though she's not here anymore, my heart will continue to be filled with her and the love we had for each other.

I turned away quickly before the gates of water opened in my eyes and trudged back home. My shoes felt like heaps of wet sand had been thrown into them. Everything felt heavy and monotonous.
Reaching the apartments, I threw open the doors and made my way up the stairs to my one. I didn't dare climb up the side ladder anymore. That was our ladder. I didn't want to be reminded again of all the memories it held.
As I got to the door, I noticed a brown parcel waiting on the floor outside. I bent down to pick it up, curiosity resting in me. It had been carefully wrapped up. I held it in my hands. The parcel was shaped like a book. 'How strange' I thought to myself.
I pushed my way through the door and headed straight to my room, barely stopping to mumble a quick 'hello' to Mom. We hardly spoke to each other now, apart from when we were arguing, which seemed a lot more than often recently. I slammed my bedroom door and threw myself down onto the bed, tearing into the mysterious parcel.
Inside of the wrapping was a cherry red notebook, all crinkled up on the sides. It looked old. On top was a small piece of paper with an explanation.

To Jim,
This was Tilly's diary. I've read it all. Painful as it is, I thought you'd like to read some of it. It holds a lot of memories that we're precious to Tilly. Keep it afterwards if you want. I can't bear to see it again.
Ms Anderson

My mind raced, that little red thing inside of my chest pumping ecstatically. Shaking slightly, I opened up the diary and began reading.

January 23rd, 1984
I was sitting on my balcony today when a removals company van turned up...

January 23rd... that was when Mom and I moved here. She'd been writing since then? I'd peaked in this diary before, but never properly read it. I continued flicking through the pages, soaking up every word she wrote. My fingers traced the lines in the pages, as if a way to connect with her again.

Dark shadows began casting around my room as the night drew in and the sun disappeared. I turned to my lamp, switching it on. I'd been sitting in the same place for hours and hours, just reading and re-reading what Tilly had written. There was so much about me in here. So much I didn't know she even felt for me. I had no idea her love had gone back so far, or that she even liked me for the same amount of time as I had liked her. So many emotions had arisen in my chest that it was hard to grapple what I was even feeling. Each entry had a new memory attached to it that sewed itself into my heart and opened up a door in my head. I played through every singular memory as I read.

Her last entry read this,

I haven't written in so long. The last time I wrote, Jim and I had just got back together. That feels like forever ago, even though it's only been a few months. Damn that boy will be the death of me. That stupid smile and stupid ruffled up hair of his makes my heart pound so hard. I miss being clean sometimes. I miss when I had never tried drugs before. I regret even trying them if I'm being honest. Like yes I love the feeling. It makes me feel so good. But I nearly lost Jim last year to it, and that scared me in a way. I don't know why I still do them. Maybe one day I'll get clean again and become something like an advocate for helping others to get clean. That's a dream of mine. Maybe Jim could do it with me too. I really hope so. I think we're doing heroin tomorrow. I want to. I gotta admit I'm frightened because what if something goes wrong, but I want to impress Jim again. I love that boy so ridiculously much. All I ever wanted to do was impress him.

Sobs once again took over my body. Impress me? She didn't need to try and impress me. What the hell was she thinking?! Trying to impress me was what got her killed in the first place. Oh God, Tilly, my love. I cried and cried. Was this really how she felt? Guilt rose through my body and my breath caught. The tears rolled down my cheeks in fat clumps. I threw the notebook to the side, grabbing my pillow and throwing my head into it. Curling up in a ball, I shook and shivered as darkness drew me into sleep.

Waking up the next morning, I was still fully clothed from the day before. My mind ran about the events that had occurred. Me reading her diary to me sobbing myself to sleep. I lay there, eyes wide open staring at the ceiling. I felt nothing. No feeling ran through my body at all. Maybe I'd cried all the emotions out. A quick thought popped into my head as I closed my eyes for a second. Maybe I could get clean? Maybe I could do all of what she wanted to do. I'll get clean and become and advocate to help others. She said she wanted to do it with me. What if, even if she can't do it with me anymore, I can do it instead. I can do this one last thing for her. To keep her around. To keep her memory alive forever in not only my soul, but many others souls as well.