Open When I'm Gone

8. You're On Your Own, Kid

The lights hit me before anything else. Bright, sterile, burning lights. Second comes the sense of disorientation, so dizzy and lost that I just wanted to close my eyes again.

But when I open my eyes instead, I wish I could've made a different choice. I'm sitting in a hospital, a blanket tucked up to my waist, beeping of a heart rate monitor filling the room with an all too familiar sound.

"Oh good, you're awake,"

Her voice is familiar as I turn to meet her brown eyes. Brown hair, brown eyes, freckles on her face.

"Jolie," My stomach sinks to my feet. I want to hide, I wanna leave and run until no one can find me again. "What're you doing here?"

"I found you outside of the store," She answers, "I was worried, that's all,"

I groan, trying to sink deeper into the paper thin mattress. "Don't know why."

Silence fills the room, and it feels like it's choking me. Maybe I wish it was.

I glance over at her, her hair pulled into a high bun, her eyes sunken and sallow. If I wouldn't have known better I would have said I saw tears in her eyes. But of course I know better. Of course.

"What would Edaline have said about this?" She asks. Even her name makes me want to vomit with longing. I wouldn't be here if she was still alive.

A lot of things would be different if she was alive.

"Don't bring her into this," I choke out, getting out of bed, ready to go anywhere just out of this room.

"What would she say if she knew what you did?" Her tone sounds threatening, and my heart picks up speed.

"Do... You know what I did?"

She sighs, running a hand through her hair. "Simon, of course I do. I've been there,"

"You have no idea what it's like," I'm out of bed, trembling on sick legs, moving across the room to the thing behind her head, the thing I can't keep my eyes off. Of course out of every flower, the flowers there were her flowers.

"Stop!" I grip the small plastic vase of white lilies, throwing it against the ground, so satisfied by the cracking sound it makes as it hits the ground.

"Stop," I stomp on the tile, crushing the plastic and flowers under my feet until they're just crushed to a pulp under my feet, my skin bleeding from the plastic shards of the vase. "You have no idea what she would think because you didn't know her, not like I did. She would be so disappointed, but she's not here! She left me, and I had no other choice!"

"Simon stop." Her voice is calm, eerily so as she grabs my hands, leading me back over to the bed, helping me sit. It feels like everything has drained from me, but it's true. I wouldn't be here if she was still here, and she would be so upset. But that's why I did it; because she's not here.

I hear her voice in my head, and I want to scream. Maybe I do. I'm not sure.

"Simon please," She begged, grabbing onto my hands, "I've tried too hard to get you to stop, but I'm done being kind. Simon I can't do this without you, please. Don't give up on us, me..." She gripped my face in her hands. "And if you can't fight for me, please Simon, fight for yourself. You're worth fighting for,"

But I think she's wrong. Maybe I'm not worth fighting for.

"I don't want to live without her anymore," I barely manage to keep my tears back, one escaping nonetheless. "I never meant to make this such a mess. I'm sorry."

"I get it," She sighs, sitting down next to me on the bed. Her eyes are hazy, like she has something to say but knows the words aren't real. Like none of this is real.