Storyteller

Chapter 26

Faith POV: 

I hate this... I hate Tim having to do absolutely everything for me while I sit around like a vegetable. I can't take care of the girls anymore, and I can barely take care of myself. Some mornings he has to come in the shower with me to make sure my legs don't give out. Of course, I don't really have to force him... 

And now I'm losing my mind. My doctors told me it'd be fine, but I broke Tim's nose, and probably scared him too. Tim will put up with me, but it's not fair. He shouldn't have to deal with me suddenly flipping on him out of the blue. 

The sensation is painful. It's like a massive brain freeze, and then only certain pieces of my memory will come back immediately. Tim will ask me what year it is a few times, and then I'll start to slowly remember what happened. 

I feel it happening a few moments before I'm left dazed, but I don't want to bring attention to it if it's fine. Normally I just sit quietly, and remain confused till I work it out myself. Tim doesn't know that though.

Tim lays beside me quietly, and breathes deeply as he tries to decide whether or not to go back to sleep. He faces away from me, making me a little nauseous. I want him to still love me, and not be here because he pities me. 

I place my hand on his back, and receive the worst reaction possible in the given situation. His shoulder moves forward as he rolls out of bed, standing up and sighing. He leans onto the bed and kisses my forehead, as if to reassure me that my touch doesn't burn him like a brand. I know it does. 

"I gotta get the kids up and moving. You need anything?" He says. I shake my head slowly and take a deep breath. 

"I have to run downtown today. Are you going to come with or..." I ask, hoping we can maybe make a day out of it. He cringes. 

"I'd love to baby, but I have a session scheduled from eleven this afternoon to seven tonight at the studio." He says, throwing on jeans and a band t-shirt. My heart aches a little as he starts to slip on his shoes. "I'll call Chris and tell her to pick you up and take you out. I'm sure you two can tear up the town." Tim laughs, giving me a little smile. I wave as he heads out the door. I lie in bed for a few hours, contemplating what's next. 

Chris and I sit downtown at The Second Fiddle, and drink. I haven't gotten drunk in a very long time, but today I need it. Chris keeps telling me to slow down, because alcohol can sometimes react with my pills that I'm taking. Nothing lethal, it could just make me a little loopy. 

A guy sits down beside me, before turning to me. He has brown hair, a shadow of a beard, and soft brown eyes. The crows feet in the corner of his eyes distract me when he smiles. He spots my short hair, and twists the end of it around his finger. 

"You're stunning." He says, making a hell of an introduction. Chris stares, before looking at me for my reaction. 

"I'm taken." I confess kindly, holding up my hand which houses my ring. He nods slowly, and stands, before handing me a little card with a name and number on it. What would you know -- he's a musician. I nod, as he walks away. Chris rolls her eyes, as her phone starts to ring. 

"Shit... I gotta go..." She says, looking around a little frantically. "I didn't even see what time it was. Do you want me to call a cab for you or something?" She asks. I shake my head. 

"I can handle it. You go on." I smile, as she hurries out the door. I turn back toward the bartender, before I start to get the tingling in my fingers that happens before I blank. I squeeze my hands together tightly, and try to repeat facts over and over again until... 

I feel myself slowly awakening from my blank daze, to find Gracie pinning me down and screaming ferociously at me. I try to shake her off, but she grabs my shoulders tightly, and squeezes them so hard it's painful. Tears are streaming from her eyes as she strains. 

"What the hell is wrong with you? You fucking whore!" She screeches, causing me to freeze in shock. Tim emerges from behind her, and peels her off, pulling her back with what seems like most of the force in his body. He points out the doorway, and pants. 

"Go." He demands, sounding worn. I stare at him, before he turns to face me, his eyes red. I hug myself tightly and try to breathe, as Tim looks at something else. "You too." He says. I watch as the guy from the bar starts to get dressed, and walk out past Tim. I feel my stomach churn. 

Tim stands quietly, shaking and holding himself. He places a hand over his mouth, before falling onto his hands and knees and making horrible wheezing noises. He grabs his chest and sobs, grabbing the carpet so hard his knuckles turn white. The sight is horrifying. I've never seen him like this. 

"Tim..." I call out. I debate whether to admit it or not. "Tim, what happened?" I start to cry. "Tim... What did I do..." I plead, covering my mouth and sobbing. He looks at me, forces air into his lungs. 

"I..." He starts, before breaking down again. He starts wailing, covering his mouth, and heaving. "You screwed him, Faith." He spits out.  He slowly stands, as I start to scream. 

"I'm so sorry..." I slur. "Oh my god, I'm sorry." I watch as he clenches his stomach, and looks down at me. "I don't remember who he was... or why he was here..." I start to ramble quickly. 

"Faith, I'm not mad about that." He yells over my rambling. "I understand, and that's fine. I'm not mad about that." He says, making me nauseous. 

"What else did I do?" I question, sounding frantic. He looks at me, and winces.