Broken

I looked up from unpacking boxes, my music loud in my ears. Wondering what the time was I looked at my phone. I saw the notification banner: Hey cuz, I have some bad... My heart dropped as I unlocked my phone and opened the message. news. Cousin D has passed away. The music faded and the world came crashing to a halt. I messaged back and asked what had happened, how? Suicide along with an article from the day before. My ears rang and my hands shook as I felt the blood drain from my face. I couldn't breathe. How could he have done it like that? I knew he'd been depressed for a long time, years in fact, and that he was disenchanted with the world and the powers that run it, but I never thought he'd be one to do it. And like that? There were so many less painful ways. Why? People say that suicide is a cowardly act, but he can't have been a coward to do it like that. How could he just sit there on that bench and let it happen? He must have been so numb to need to feel so much. I looked at my phone and noticed another reply had come through It was his birthday too. What the actual fuck?! On his birthday? I finally noticed how wet my face was. How long had I been crying?

I screamed into the empty room. My knuckles aching and bruised from the punches I'd thrown, and a poorly aimed kick had hurt my foot. The punching bag was too hard to be kicking, but the anger, the rage and the grief had needed an outlet. I picked up my glass and drained the whiskey in it, wiping the sweat and tears from my face. I sank to the floor and cried even more. You'd think I would be out of tears by now. It's only been a month. How could there have been so much pain in so short a time? How could I shed so many tears, and still have so many more? It didn't make sense. It wasn't fair. How was I ever meant to understand? I curled into a ball and wept, eventually so exhausted that I fell asleep on the floor.

Some time later I came awake. I was still curled in my ball, hugging myself. But someone else was hugging me too. "I got you some water," said a soft voice behind me. "Thank you Zyggy," I said as I reached to pull him closer. He snuggled in and I could feel his breath on my neck and his heartbeat in my back. He lay quietly, giving me time to gather my thoughts, knowing I would tell him what was wrong when I had the words to. I didn't realised I had called out to him, but I was so glad he was here. It felt good to know I wasn't completely alone.

Finally I sat up, drank the glass of water and turned around to look at the skelly-man who had come to ease my pain. I looked at him and I broke again. Zyggy pulled me into his lap as a fresh wave of sobs washed over me, then reached over and grabbed the tissues he'd grabbed from my coffee table. One hand holding me close, the other stroking my head and brushing through my hair and his head leaned into mine, he softly shushed me like you would a small child. I pulled myself together enough to speak. "Can life just stop?" Zyggy pulled his head back and looked at me quizzically. "Well, no. Can life stop not-ing? That would be great." "What's happened?" Zyggy asked, finally trying to coax something more out of me now that I had said something. I looked into his eyes, his deep pupils swimming with concern. "Is it your aunty?" he asked softly. "No," I answered ruefully, "that's already happened. Been and gone. She went into hospice for pain management. Her and uncle thought she'd only be in for a few days. But she slipped into a coma that night and never woke up. 2 days later she was gone. I guess technically they weren't wrong about how long she'd be there." Zyggy looked at me, horrified. "Sorry," I told him, " dark humour's just how I cope. The funeral was a month ago." Zyggy was staring at me, but the look on his face now held sorrow. "Then, get this," I told him, "not even 2 weeks later, my sister messages to let the family know that one of our cousins had passed away. Did I tell you about the one who was born with his heart wrong? I can't remember what the condition's called." Zyggy nodded, "Yeah, he moved back to the country and was waiting for surgery." "Yep," I replied, "he said he was going to go lay down, gave his mum a hug and a kiss, said thank you for everything and told her he loved her. And he never did things like that. So we figure he knew the end was coming. He had a heart attack in his room. They didn't find him for a few hours. He was already going cold. And then I couldn't even go to the funeral because it was on moving day. At least I could watch the livestream though."

Zyggy looked up and looked around. "Oh, this is your new house! I'm so glad I get to see it,"he grinned at me, his childlike excitement lighting up his face despite everything I'd just dropped on him. "Sorry I haven't had you here sooner. I'm still trying to get set up." He smiled again, and looked back at me. "There's more though, isn't there?" he asked. "Lately it feels like there's always more," I told him. "Ever since that message I've just been waiting for the next one. You know how people say things always happen in threes?" Zyggy nodded. "Well, the universe delivered, I guess. Another cousin took his life day before yesterday. I just found out this afternoon." I told him what had been going through my mind before I'd pulled out the whiskey and the punching bag. "There's not going to be a funeral this time. They're having him cremated and scattering his ashes on the beach where he grew up, and there'll be a send off thing then. But I'm so broken right now Zyg, it's just not fair. 3 amazing, beautiful souls. And they're just gone. All in a month. Literally. From the 12th to the 11th. I don't know what I'm supposed to do. It feels like my family is just dropping like flies and there's no way to stop it. What am I supposed to do? It's been so long since I lost so many people so quickly. What do I do?" I had started crying again. Zyggy pulled some tissues for me and waited for me to clean myself up, then he put his hands on either side of my face and kissed the top of my head. "You do this. You cry, you grieve, you get it all out, and then you heal. You celebrate that they lived and that you got to be a part of it. However big or small. You live. You live for them, you live for you, and you love them. There will be days when it's harder than others, and days where it's not. You take each one as it comes, and then the next, and then the one after that. And love them, remember them, cherish them. And then one day, it won't hurt quite so much." I wrapped my arms around Zyggy's bony frame and hugged him. "Thank you Zyggy." He smiled at me. "But right now, you need food. And probably more water. I'm going to order us some food, then I'll go get your big blanket and we can curl up on the couch and watch something."

And he did. And we did. And slowly, bit by bit, I felt just that little bit better.