A Tribute For Tia

Chapter 9

                  

The bridge was always there, looming just behind the door I had kept closed in my mind. Once I had struggled home and slammed the door behind me, the thoughts erupted like a tidal wave and suddenly I couldn't hold them back. Tears feel from my eyes like a soft, silent waterfall; they slipped down my cheeks and onto my chin, some running down the bridge of my nose. Furiously I rubbed them away, but when they kept coming and the usually silent crying became loud, shoulder-shaking sobs, I knew I couldn't suppress everything that had been building up any longer. My hands started to shake as I sagged against my bedroom door, so I placed them between my quivering knees which did nothing to stop them. My chest swelled up with the emotions I had refused to feel, and my heart stuttered under the pressure. I could see my guitar across the room, sitting on its stand where I had left it, but I knew I could no longer work my fingers enough to even play a single chord. The salty drops of water falling from my eyes clouded my vision, but I did not bother to wipe them away, for I knew they would be back in a matter of moments.

I felt empty, like everything was drained from my body, everything I ever held close to me now scattered in front of me. Even though I was vacant inside I could feel each beat of my heart when usually I couldn't, could feel each tear streaking down from my eyes and each brush of my eyelashes against my cheeks. My stomach tightened against itself, a sinking feeling erupting in my chest. My hands had stopped their shaking, at last, but had gone slightly numb. I heard something ringing in the house, but I couldn't find the courage to stand up and answer it, so I let it go. I couldn't talk; my throat closed over and I choked on the non-existent air I was breathing. My eyes shut almost by themselves as I tried to stop the tears from rolling, but nothing was working. Instead of doing something, asking for help, I sat there for an infinite amount of moments and just allowed myself to drown in my sorrows. 

In a split second decision, I pulled my arms out from the entanglement of limbs I had created and leaned towards the set of bedside drawers that were full of useless trinkets, pulling out the pair of scissors I had almost forgotten were in there. Carefully and slowly, I pulled them open and stared at the sharpness of the blade, gazing at how the light reflected off the edge. I just wanted it to end, or to just have a day where I didn't have any pain. It seemed so far away now, those days with my family, back when everything was fine and we were all happy. Before I knew it, one of the edges was pressed against my wrist, the other digging into my palm quite aggressively. I had not meant for the scissors to cut into my palm, and definitely not into my wrists; but when I sat there a few seconds after, and watched as a single trickle of blood flowing from the side of my hand and onto the carpet, I realised what I had done. Dropping the scissors, I stood up and backed away from the door, towards the opposite wall. Forgetting to even think about cleaning up the mess I had made, I fell against the bed  and into the soft sheets, praying to forget everything that had happened.

A soft voice erupted through the darkness that had engulfed me, silencing the sobs that had begun again. "Al?" it was quiet, almost too soft to hear, but I knew it instantly. "I'm fine. Not like you, of course. You still depressed?"

An old memory, that's all it was. But it made my heart ache with the remembrance of being able to hold her in my arms, to be able to call her stupid nicknames. "I won't do it again, Bra." I whispered.