Celo

Chapter 22

QUINN

"This is messed up." I ran my fingers though my greasy hair. I needed a shower but I didn't wan't to leave Kyle alone like this while my dad was in the house.

"Yeah."

"Hey Kyle?"

"Yeah."

"Next time you're gonna drink," he tried to interrupt me but I kept talking, "tell me so I can come too."

"I'm done drinking Quinn. I'm serious this shit is not worth it."

"Mom hated swearing."

"God, Quinn, I miss her." Kyle spoke but everything sounded like we were underwater. I felt like I had been filled with water balloons all year  and they were all popping at once. I hadn't said "mom" since her funeral. I hadn't grieved her really. I hadn't thought too much of her at all. After I started drinking I let go of her too quickly. "Quinn?" Kyle spoke again. I just sat in the chair. I saw my vision fog over and felt my eyes get full. The tear paths on my cheeks began to feel cold but I didn't move. I didn't want to. I didn't want to act into this reality. I hated it. It was hopeless; death is hopeless. There's no hope when someone dies. No one can save you then. No one can fix things. Mom was dead.

"Quinn, you wanna go visit her?" Kyle asked but I didn't answer him. "Yeah, let's go." He answered his own question, getting up slowly from the bed. 

"I'll drive I said." 

The parking lot at the cemetary was surrounded by brightly colored tulips but the grass inside was almost all dead. It was possibly even more depressing because of the contrast. The wind chill was just as cold as the white sky looked and Kyle and I walked briskly to the crooked headstone with our hands in our jacket pockets. We stayed on the dry gound over at the far end of the graveyard for at least two hours. Kyle eventually kneeled down and sat there with his head in his hands. I stayed standing I liked feeling the wind and I didn't feel like moving.

At some point Kyle started crying. It pulled me out of my numbness and made me feel sad again, like I was about to start crying too, but the wind blew hard and pushed me back into the cold reality. Mom's not here; Mom's not coming back. Mom's not here. I heard my own voice in my head insisting that I not let any of this get to me. I felt the breakdown squeezing my mind and I wanted to give in to it but I wouldn't let myself. I had to stay in control. 

Kyle stood up and asked if I was ready to go. I nodded and put my arm around his shoulders as we walked back to the car. He was shaking and I tightened my grip on his shoulder. I couldn't think of anything reassuring to say.

Back home Kyle seemed to be doing better and Dad had disappeard so I left him in the room texting Casey and went to take my shower. The hot water felt good and the steam thawed my freezing extremities but I couldn't keep myself standing. I was too exhausted, physically and mentally, and so I sat butt-naked and crosslegged on the floor as the drops fell quickly onto my soapy head and rolled down my back now sudsy and cool. I looked down at my hands and wrists in my lap, the same hands and wrists that my mom had held, and I broke down.