Haunting You - Boys of Tommen

Delusional

"I swear to god, the voices wouldn't shut up." - The Neighborhood 

October 31st, 2005

Lizzie:

I passed by Caoimhe's bedroom door like I had everyday for the last five years, and as always it called to me. I tried to put it out of my mind, but I was weak and I once again found myself opening her door.

The room was untouched, her bed was made, and a pile of her clothes sat at the end of it. The walls were littered with posters, and her vanity had makeup strewn across it. 

I picked up her prized hairbrush and inspected the blonde hair that remained, a piece of her still here. It no longer smelt like her in the room, but her half used bottle of perfume was here, encased in time. 

Her room was a preservation of history and each molecule and speck of dirt were sacred to me. I ran my fingers along her bookshelves and memorized her favourite book titles for the millionth time. 

I knew it was unhealthy to keep her room like this, but I don't think my Mam had even come in here, since her death and as long as it stayed like this, it gave me hope that she would one day stroll out of her room in the morning, with bed head and her favourite pastel yellow slippers. I could imagine that she would slam the door after getting into yet another argument with our mother. I could pretend that, she would let me crawl into her bed at night, when I had a particularity bad nightmare. 

The unofficial graveyard that was situated across the hall from my bedroom, fed into my unhealthy delusions, but these days they were all I had to hang onto of her.

I left her room, after a few more minutes and started getting ready for the Halloween party tonight. 

It had been an eventful few weeks since school started and I could feel myself getting worse. I had all but forced Claire to go on a date, in a thinly veiled attempt to distance her from Gibsie, but if anything it had brought them closer, and I was lost. Claire was mad at me for all of my meddling, but it wasn't just about my hatred for the boy, he had also strung Claire along for years and then proceeded to fuck anything in a skirt for years, all while expecting Claire to wait for him. 

It was just further proof of how awful that family was, and he and Mark were truly cut from the same cloth. 

I carefully applied the dark makeup to my eyes and debated if my presence was even necessary at this party. 

Growing up, Halloween was always my favourite holiday. Not because of the candy, dressing up, or staying up late. It was because it was Hugh's birthday.

I had been swindled into attending in a couple's costume with Patrick, and we were going as Morticia and Gomez Addams. I liked Patrick, he was a good friend and without a doubt would look great in a suit, but it felt wrong. When making these plans, I was off with Pierce again, but that changed once again yesterday afternoon, so he's tagging along and going as Uncle Fester. Patrick had offered to switch with him, but I doubted Pierce could pull off Gomez as well as Patrick could. 

My long black dress was particularly tight and I was already dreading wearing it for a whole night. When I was finally ready, I observed myself in the mirror, taking extra care to pull the sleeves as fair as they could go. I looked good, but I didn't get joy from it like Claire would undoubtedly be feeling about her appearance in her obnoxious Sandy from Grease costume. 

Patrick was giving me a spin to the party, but we remained relatively quiet in the car. He had been short with me, ever since I not so 'accidentally' alluded to the fact that the group only tolerated Katie, and mostly ignored her, as I could see her standing behind Feely. I knew I shouldn't have gone that far, especially considering what I had learnt about her recently, but just seeing her invoked something inside me and it was as if my mouth could move at it's own accord. 

All of my recent offences had been piling up and Patrick was getting tired of them, and I couldn't blame him.

"Are you going to be mad at me all night?" I ask, bored and craving stimulus. 

"I'm not mad at you." He states, his tone even.

"Right," I drawl. "Just disappointed?" 

He sighs, "it doesn't matter what I think, Liz."

Before I can retort we're at Hugh and Claire's house, and entering into my own personal hell right now, I definitely needed a drink to disappear for a bit tonight, to just be, without all the thoughts in my mind rising to the surface. Alcohol would definitely be essential if I had to deal with Gibsie tonight.

When I walk in the first thing my eyes lock on is Hugh and Katie standing together looking ridiculously good, in their costumes. Katie's wearing a tight red dress that hugs her small figure, her fiery hair pinned up, and she looks like a goddamn vision. Hugh looks amazing in his suit, every bit the part of a successful businessman. 

Hugh's eyes find mine, and for just a moment I imagine, that he's happy to see me, that he's been waiting for me, and can finally relax now that I'm in his vicinity. But it's all a delusion, because his eyes dart away as quick as they had found me. Oddly enough, though I see that exact look in Patrick's eyes but it's not  at me, it's directed at the pretty red head currently tucked under Hugh's arm.

I definitely needed a drink.

Thanks for reading! - H <3