All Too Unwell

What Am I Supposed to Do?

TW: Mentions of death, drunk driving, and suicide (this is a very sad chapter sorry)

It was an unusually quiet night, not a single stir from the other people in the hotel to drown out the hum of the air conditioner and chirp of the crickets. Not a gust of wind to wrestle the branches of trees, not a cloud in the sky blocking the cast of moonlight onto the lake outside the window. Despite the calm, something heavy lurked in the air, hanging above my bead with a sense of impending doom. My phone buzzed on my nightstand, lighting up as the display flashed 2:15 am. Usually I ignored my phone at this hour, but a sense of urgence hung in the air. Something felt different about this: It didn't feel like a normal notification. As I reach for my phone, I see that it's from a group chat of my friends back home. The words, "Sophia" and "died" sliced across the screen and settled into my chest. The very nature of them being in the same sentence jarring. 

She was like an older sister to me and Char. She was the one who taught me how to do my eyeliner for performances, and guided me through a rough breakup. She helped me and Charlotte through Pre-Calculus, never getting impatient when we didn't understand something. She was always happy and bubbly, at least on the surface. Although I felt like something wasn't right, I never imagined it would be this.

It couldn't be. 

There was no way. 

She was one of the liveliest people I know. 

I open the group chat, and my friends are sending message after message about it. My hands tremble as I struggle to hold my phone. She was allegedly hit by a drunk driver on her way home from a party. They're also suspecting suicide because she was driving near a cliff. Nevertheless, they're still looking for the person who crashed into her car. The police haven't found the suspect yet; for now it's classified as a hit and run. One of my friends went from a complete, alive person to a corpse in seconds. She went from a respectable person with accomplishments, friends, and family members to an object of local interest in mere minutes. It was so dehumanizing to see headline after headline pop up in my newsfeed. I checked each headline, first and last name, picture, and all to ensure it was actually her.

And each time, it was. The grief washes over me like a wave at high tide, pulling me under with no way the breathe and no way to escape. 

I knew something was wrong. Does that mean that I manifested this tragedy? The thought jumps out at me, latching on, cementing itself into my brain. I ruminate over it, over and over. Each time I ruminate, it's like a torturous game of telephone: my brain adds more what ifs and things I'd never actually do, let alone consider doing. Does my worrying about people cause bad things to happen to them? I always think about tragedy, and now it's actually happened. 

Charlotte was friends with Sophia too. We were so close in freshman and sophomore year of high school, we were a perfect trio. We were all still friends, but we just had different life paths. I have to make sure Charlotte is ok. I slide out the door, hoping not to stir Taylor's sleep. She doesn't need anything more on her hands: She's already working on a new album and rehearsing every day. I walk over to Charlotte's suite, sending her a message that I was outside. The door opens slowly, Charlotte's mannerisms marked with a hesitation and sadness I've never seen in her. When we meet eyes, we collapse in each others arms, crying. 

Everything feels so heavy with grief and despondence, but we have each other to hold on to. Figuratively and literally. 

We go into Charlotte's room, knowing neither of us should be without the other in this moment. We hug again, then cry ourselves back to sleep silently. A chapter of our lives has closed, the loss of our high school friend exemplifying the pain and confusion that comes along with growing up. 

As I head to rehearsals, my body carries an extra weight on top of my already existing depression. My depression  followed me around like a black dog, lurking in shadows, always there but it could be set aside. Now I am trapped in a haze of fatigue, desolate, and thoughts I can't sort through. My heart thumps in my ears and through my throat as I trudge myself through the choreography. I keep getting lost in my guilt and despair, and messing up formations. Now I'm letting everyone down. I sit down and pull my knees to my chest, trying to muffle my sobs. Some of the dancers crowd around me, asking if I wanted Taylor. I didn't say anything, no one can take this away. Maybe if Taylor isn't busy, I'll explain to her why my performance is so rusty. She at least deserves an explanation. Taylor is across the stage, talking to some crew members about setup. "She's busy," I sob, gasping through my tears. 

"She won't mind, honey," I hear a voice that sounds like Natalie's. 

Some of the other dancers are bringing me to her, trying to get her attention that something was wrong. I was hesitant, because this can't be fixed with hugs and words of encouragement. Taylor was finishing up a conversation with the choreographer before her face softens as she takes notice of me, sobbing and dry heaving. 

"I'll be back with you, but something really important just came up" She says to the choreographer. 

She walks over to me, closing the gap in between us. She wraps an arm around me, pulling me close to her while rubbing soothing circles on my back. "Honey, let's get you breathing again, ok? Let's just focus on that for now," She says, removing any emotions besides compassion and calmness from her voice. 

She guides me to the backstage room, her arm securely around me to prevent me from falling and hurting myself in my mental state. 

She guides me to the couch, sitting in front of me and rubbing my arms, taking my hands into hers. She tilts her head to get a better look at my face, and when she does, the concern and care in her gaze is enough to cause me to break down completely. "Oh sweetie I'm giving you a hug, ok?" I hear her soft voice in the background as she hugs me tightly. "I'm going to sway us, just try your best to synch your breathing to the motion, ok?" Taylor's gentle voice rings out again. She continues to hold me as she rocks me, her whispered words of love and reassurance coming closer and closer as I come back in touch with reality. It is only then that I realize the scene: I am violently sobbing and panicking, soaking Taylor's soft sweater with tears, snot, and mascara as she holds me like I am a small child. 

"I saw the news, honey," She says, pulling back slightly to gauge my mental state. "Charlotte told me earlier how much she meant to you guys. There are no words and I can't fathom your pain, but please know I am here, ok? I'm willing to provide any flexibility in your schedules and give you paid time off," she says.

I nod. 

"Why don't you go relax with her tonight? I'll let you both stay in my suite and order room service," Taylor offers. 

"After the show?" I question, being hit by another wave of tears.

"Babes, I know you want to push through, but you need to consider yourself and your health too. Charlotte has time off and I was just changing some formations to make up for the loss of you guys. It's no big deal. Also, I don't want you to worry about the mascara stains," she says, motioning to her sweater. "This is nothing a washing machine can't get out," She says, kissing my head. 

"I don't think either of you should drive right now, so I'll have my driver drop you off at the hotel. Again, it's no big deal and I'll do anything to make this easier for you," Taylor says again, pulling me into another hug. 

"I've already said this to Charlotte and it also applies to you, but I genuinely care about you guys and you can always send me a message or come talk if you need, ok? I know I tell you this all the time, but I won't stop until you know how important you are," Taylor continues. 

Her driver, Greg, walks in, ready to drive me back to the hotel. On the drive home, I stare at the landscape. It hasn't changed a bit, it has no idea that I just lost a friend. The world keeps spinning and the sun keeps rising, acting as if nothing ever happened. I just hope that neither me or Charlotte does anything to be in the same place as Sophia.