Melody of death | English Version | Charles Leclerc FF

fifty-four ఌ

One after another, I tore open the drawer of the cupboard in my room and searched it. I didn't care that I messed up my entire order and completely devastated my room. Damn. Where did I put them? I huried to my wardrobe and let my hands slide through my underwear. Suddenly I felt a small pack. My heart jumped and seemed to stop completely shortly afterwards. Hopefully, I got them out and examined them. Antidepressants. With trembling fingers, I pulled out the silver piece of plastic and looked at the pills. Except for five, the pack was still full. My doctor had prescribed them to me after my diagnosis, but I had suffered from side effects such as headaches and dizziness and had stood completely next to me. It was like my body was living without me. My depression had improved, but I was even more exhausted than before. So I stopped taking it. Until now.
I poured water in the kitchen, put one of the flat, white balls on my tongue and then drank it down. I had no idea if they would help anything, nor if the side effects would come back, but I can't do it anymore. I wanted to get well. I really wanted that. But I can't do it alone anymore.

I put the glass in the sink and put the tablets back in my wardrobe. I didn't want to risk Charles or anyone else finding them. Exhausted, I walked to the bathroom, took a towel out of the cupboard next to the sink and turned on the faucet in the shower. I got rid of my clothes and dropped them on the frosty floor. When I looked at my hip bones, I was slightly frightened. I put my hand on it and felt nothing but the hardness of the bone. I stepped in front of the mirror researching. Under my breasts I saw my ribs so clearly that I could count them. I turned sideways and sighed. My breasts had shrunk. Just like my butt. But what else did I expect? In Norway, too, I have always taken care to eat as little food as possible. If I'm honest, I couldn't help it. With the tips of my feet, I tested the temperature of the water. Warm enough. I got in and closed the curtain behind me. I hung the shower head in the designated place and felt it pour down on me without brakes. Just like my thoughts suddenly did.

"Why can't I just be normal?" I whispered to the drops of water. Why am I not the person my parents wanted for the first pregnancy picture? A tear ran down my cheeks and mixed with the already running water. When did I become like that? So broken? So empty? This life doesn't make sense to me. It's just ruining me. Everyone always says that the people who want to end their lives should not do so. But why should they suffer? Why should I stay here if I don't want to be here? When I can't be happy here anymore because everything seems to be playing against me. I sank down the smooth wall and supported my head on my knees. The water bounced off my soaked hair and whipped my naked back at the same time. My life has become a single pyre. Through Charles, I have become blind -no soft- and have forgotten my own limits. He let my wall crumble and I allowed it. He made me a better person, although I didn't realize how much it drains him. He would never tell me that I would burden him. But eyes don't lie. The Grand Prix in Germany has given me the last proof that I am destroying it. Just like everyone around me. No one can help me. I sobbed. It hurt. My inner voice was like a harpoon in my heart and promised me a certain, but slow and agonizing death.

C H A R L E S

The warm afternoon sun of last Saturday during the summer break burned my skin. Nevertheless, the sun represented a not too strong burden here, as in Maranello. The last few days have been exhausting. I was at the company headquarters from morning to evening. We had discussed the new updates, carved plans for the future and compared past results. Then there were the countless training sessions and regeneration dates. Everything to be perfectly prepared for the second half of the season.

My pulse accelerated when I parked in front of Célinas house and dialed her number to let her know that I was there. It rang a few times in vain. I pulled my forehead into wrinkles. Did she ignore me or was something wrong?
I decided to just go in. The apartment building is always open anyway, only rarely closed from the outside at night. I stopped in front of her apartment and knocked. It took a short time, then I heard steps from the inside. I rocked excitedly back and forth on my feet and let my eager gaze wander through the staircase with a smile. However, when the door was opened for me, I didn't know who was standing in front of me. My smile died by itself. I don't know if it was because I hadn't seen her for a long time or if she has actually withered more like a flower in the last five days. My girl. My dear. Ma Chérie.
Dark circles hung under her otherwise so bright eyes. It seemed as if her face had fallen, her cheekbones stabbed edged in my eye. Her smile, which she played to me, was not remotely honest. I hated that. I hated that she didn't talk to me. I am very busy, but not blind to see that she is long back at the point where I found her a few months ago. Hopeless. With the aim of plunging into the depths. To death.

„Ma Chérie...", I stammered and stepped over the threshold to her. I put my arms around her, but I felt like she was collapsing when I pressed her too tightly against me. It seemed as fragile as a scaffolding that was only held together by a few screws. That scared me.
After I let her go, I closed the door. I took her hand and pulled her with me into the living room. Behind me I let her stand and stood with my back to her. It couldn't go on like this. I needed an explanation. Something that shows me a way to help her.
„Charles? What's wrong?", she asked quietly and I heard her making a insecure step towards me. „You know, I never asked you why you have so much pain inside you. I thought that I will get too close to you and you would ever talk yourself with me.", I made a break and turned around to her. „That's over now. I want to help you, but I feel like you're distancing yourself from me. Like you don't even want me to help you. That anyone will help you at all. Don't you notice how you push everyone away from you? Whenever they want to help you?" I stopped. My breath had accelerated so much that I had to take a deep breath. It was the long-stated frustration that finally gave my feelings room. Célina just stared at me silently. Tears glittered in her eyes. I took a tiny step towards her. „Célina, who tells you all of this? Who is ruining your life or who has ruined it" she froze and her facade collapsed like a house of cards. Suddenly she showed all the pain she had always hidden from me and it broke my heart into millions of parts.
„It's me, okay? It's me! I. It's all my fault." it broke out of her. Tears rolled over her face like a waterfall. „You're right. I'm pushing everyone away from me! But I can't help it, okay? You don't understand!" her voice trembled and threatened to be shattered by feelings.
„Then help me understand!" I begged her. My voice was getting louder. I needed answers! „I can't stand seeing you so lifeless anymore. Don't you see how broken you are?" I looked down at her.
„Shut up!", she interrupted me.
„No, I won't! If you continue like this, you will ruin yourself!" I continued to speak. She wiped her face, but the tears kept running. „You get sick because you let yourself hunger, hide and don't let a damn person get to you. You pretend you don't need anyone, but Célina! Finally wake up. You need help!"
„Okay, if you want it that way.", she sniffed. Her gaze met mine. Never before I've seen her that full of pain, than now. She was done. Tired. Destroyed. „Every single damn day I wake up and wish to not have done it. I force myself to go to work, act a smile, just to reflect in the evenings that I should better leave. The demons inside me destroy me day after day a little more. I can't no more. This pain, the anger, the frustration, it kills me. I don't want to live anymore. I can't live anymore.", She sobbed oppressed. Her whole body trembled. My heart hurt as if there was a knife in it. Suddenly, everything she hid from me for months was visible in her expression. „Why can't I just leave?" she whispered. Her voice was so quiet and suffocated that you hardly understood what she was saying. Or maybe I didn't want to admit how she felt. Her eyes were red. I saw all her pain and sadness. And it hurt me.
„Célina, if I had known...", I stammered, but my head was empty.
„No.... fuck.", She pulled up her hair. I knew exactly what she was thinking now. She wished she hadn't told me because she had revealed her most vulnerable side to me at that moment.
„Do you trust me?" I asked, while she moved up and down restlessly, as if she was looking for words. She stopped abruptly and looked at me in tears. The sight tore me apart. „Yes."
„Then you should know that your feelings and thoughts have a chest with me where they are safe." I tried to lift the corners of my mouth, but my own world was too mixed up.
„You don't trust me," it suddenly came from her direction. I shaped my eyes into slits. I trusted her. More than any other person in this world. „What did you say? I trust you!"
„What was that at the german Grand Prix?", her voice had a poisoned and on the other side a hurt touch in it. Fuck. Now I would have to talk. Now after she has also talked. „My father...," I stopped. Not sure if I should continue. „It was the anniversary of his death. I don't like to talk about it. I never wanted this to be an issue in our relationship. And above all, it doesn't make sense to talk about it. No one can give him back to me...", I heard myself how indignant I suddenly sounded. I hate this part of myself. I finally have to learn to deal with the loss. But I miss him so damn much...
Célina's expression became soft. The anger and frustration gave way to compassion. She took the few steps towards me and stopped right in front of me. Briefly, we looked at each other. I felt my eyes became glassy and also hers filled with tears again, which rolled down her red face. Suddenly she just wrapped her arms around me. I pressed them tighter against me. I felt like a lifebuoy, at the same time she was this one for me. We hold each other tightly. That's what connects us. An agreement, a realization, an oath. But what if we both fall and can no longer hold one after the other? Does this principle work then anyway?