What I need | Billie Eilish

Fourteen

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Billie woke up to find Selina absent from the bed. As she glanced around the room, she noticed it was slightly more organized than the night before. Memories of the previous evening flooded back, making her to get up and search for Selina. She knew that the sober Selina would likely be upset to find her there.

When she entered the kitchen, Selina was already there, leaning against the counter with a coffee cup in hand, her expression unreadable.

"Why are you here?" Selina's voice was steady, but a hint of anger simmered beneath the surface.

Billie hesitated, aware that the details of the night were fuzzy. "You were drunk, and I helped you get to bed. You insisted that I stay," she replied. Selina merely nodded, her concern deepening as Billie stepped closer. "Selina, I didn't know you had a brother. I'm so sorry—"

"I'm over it. Don't worry about it." Selina's tone was flat as she averted her gaze.

"Billie sensed the emotional weight behind her short answers, frustration bubbling up. I don't think you are, if you weren't you wouldn't have had to be drunk to the point of passing out just to deal with the anniversary of this horrible tragedy."

"Horrible tragedy?" Selina spat out, "What happened that day should tell you enough what it is I should be feeling now."

Billie followed her down the hall, attempting to reason with her. "You shouldn't have to carry that burden for so many years—"

"It's what I deserve!" Selina shouted the phrase, face crumpling from behind the stone facade as she threw her hands up in frustration and turned away from Billie walking back further into her room. Her body was shaking. "It's my fault! He's dead. All because of me!" She turned to face Billie from across the room. "I don't deserve whatever peace you are trying to offer me."

A heavy ache settled in Billie's chest. She longed to comfort Selina, but when she stepped forward, she noticed Selina flinch and stopped. "It isn't your fault, Selina."

The pleading in Selina's eyes shifted to defiance. "You weren't there. You have no idea what happened!"

Billie matched Selina's volume, shouting. "Then tell me!"

"I watched him burn because I played with fire and was too weak to save him." Selina sank to the floor, burying her face in her hands.

"You're blaming yourself for something beyond your control. You loved him, and it's okay to miss him. But you can't carry the weight of his death."

Selina sighed and rose, moving toward the door. Billie reached for her shirt, desperation in her eyes. Selina shook her head. "I'm not leaving. I want to show you something."

They made their way to the living room, where Selina handed Billie a photograph. She began pointing out the people in it.

"That's my dad, with his arm around my brother."

"You two look a lot alike," Billie observed, eliciting a sad smile from Selina.

"Justin and I were just a couple of years apart. After our mom died, it was just the three of us. It took a long time for my dad to even look at me again; he said I reminded him too much of her. He always favored Justin. I learned to be okay with it until one day, I wanted to impress my brother and get my dad's attention. Dad was out that day, and we were playing in the treehouse. I showed Justin the matches I'd stolen, but it caught fire and—" Selina's voice faltered.

"And?" Billie encouraged gently.

"And the treehouse burned down. We fell, and some boards trapped Justin. He was bleeding, and I was too weak to lift them. Dad came home too late. Justin was already gone. If I hadn't been so weak and stupid, he'd still be here."