Unexpected

Chapter 8: Struggling Woman

The crying put her to sleep in a matter of minutes. Her tears stain her cheeks and Norman's shirt- they stain his heart. Sitting in front of the couch, looking at his own arms and hands, Norman tries to imagine to pain of a knife carving into his flesh. As an actor, he can imagine playing a part of a cutter- but in his own body, can't feel it like he could emotion. To many depressed people, and I personally know, the emotion itself isn't just sadness- it's a gray area between denial, guilt, sadness, anger, self loathing, and lack of love. It's a numbness that coats over all other "normal" emotions so you constantly feel a heaviness in your chest. To cut ones self is said to relief some of that heaviness- but for me it never had. For Emily it never had- which is why she did it once. Cutting can be a truly addicting thing for some people- such as cocaine or heroine can be, but Emily didn't find it addicting as others had. Once was truly enough. She had friends in high school who would "self cure" with cutting, choking, or pinching even. She never judged them, but instead felt sorry that they were in that rut.

Now she's in a similar rut, just more mental than physical. She's tormented in her dreams- nightmares really. In the day time, she's stalked by grusome images of herself bleeding uncontrollably. She avoids mirrors- as Norman can tell by blankets hanging over them- because even the sight of her reflection causes her to want to open her window and throw herself to the street below.

It's self repulsion as one could say- the image of herself disgusts her to the point of wanting to end her life. So as Norman tries so hard to imagine what exactly Emily is thinking- he is by far the furthest away from her at this point in time.

Stirring behind him draws his attention to Emily rolling onto her side and placing her delicate hand on his shoulder. He turns sideways and looks back at her with saddened eyes. She knows he must be disappointed- she would be if it were him- but she doesn't really care at the moment.

"Hey... How you feelin'?" He goes to brush a piece of hair away from her face when she shoves his hand away. "Em, I'm just trying to be here for you."

"Maybe I don't want you here." She coldly says staring straight ahead as if she even looks at him she'll melt and never come back. It's hard for her being this cruel, but that's all she can feel right now.

"I don't care if I'm wanted here or not. I'm staying to take care of you. I refuse to let you treat yourself so mean." Emily still doesn't look at him. Her eyes are beyond dry from having cried all morning. She has no tears left. None.

"Why do you care? Why me Norman? You could have anyone in the world- why are you wasting your life on me?" Turning around, Norman looks deep into her eyes as she stares away from him. Gently placing a hand on her upper arm, Norman never stops looking at her.

"Because I love you." He kisses her forehead and stands up. He says nothing else as he grabs his jacket and pulls his boots on. He remains silent as he opens the front door and closes it behind him. He doesn't need to explain why he loves her because true love doesn't have an explanation- it just is. So laying deep in her couch, staring off at the beige wall- Emily finds a single tear left. A tear of complete and utter relief.

***The Next Day***

Waking up to the smell of coffee is never a bad thing in Emily's book. But waking up in your bed with no memory of going there- is. She leaves no time for stretching, but gets out of bed and pulls on her fuzzy blue memory foam slippers and her fluffy pinky robe before heading out into her kitchen. She's shocked to find that the apartment is clean and tidied up, breakfast is made, and fresh flowers are in a vase on the table. Never had her apartment looked so beautiful- except when she first toured it and all the feux furniture was there.

She doesn't sit at the table, but stands looking at it and the feast upon the mahogany surface.

"Yer up. Good. Breakfast is all ready for you." Mingus cheerfully says as he places a plate of pancakes in the last free remaining spot on the table. Standing there, he just smiles at her and she pinches her thigh to figure out if she's dreaming or not. She never had Mingus in her house- in fact she never really met Mingus before, just a mere 'hello' when she seen him a few times for TWD events. "You can have a seat ya know? It's yer home."

She slowly sits down and looks about the food hungrily. She hasn't really been eating since she lost the baby. She wasn't starving herself either- she just simply wasn't hungry. Her stomach growls and mouth begins to water, but her expression is still blank.

"I heard about what happened...I know you don't want to hear it, but- I'm sorry." Mingus puts a plate in front of her and some silverware. Grabbing the coffee pot, he takes her mug and pours the delicious smelling liquid into her "chalice" before putting some in his. "Not to upset you by talking about it, but I was looking forward to having a little sister...."

Mingus looks down at his cup between his hands and goes back to the day his mother and father told him he was going to be a big brother of a beautiful little girl named Emily Rose. He was only three but he still remembers all the little girl outfits and decorations starting to fill up his green room. At first he was disgusted with the idea of a girl being in his bedroom, sharing his parents, and being the next lime light. But the more he thought about it, he figured a sister was better than a brother. Brothers play the same sports and video games. For a three year old who was good at Sega, he didn't need a little brother beating his high score of 10 rings on Sonic. But then it happened. He wasn't getting a little sister. His parents started selling the little girl outfits and decorations- now his room was just green again. His parents started fighting all the time. The yelling- oh how the yelling bothered him so much. The yelling stopped one day when his mommy finally moved out and his daddy stopped going after her. It makes him wonder-

Will Dad ever find someone to keep running after? Will he ever be happy?

"Mingus?" Emily quietly says as she decides the silence of him staring off into space has lasted long enough. She knows he's taking it just as hard as she probably is- though he never really sat down with her and Norman and discussed the baby.

"I'm sorry....I was just....thinking." He says cracked and exposing his true emotions of guilt and sorrow. If he hadn't told his dad about his Grandmother- then his dad could have stayed behind, talked to her, and maybe have safed the baby's life some how. Shaking it off, he looks back at Emily, who is watching him intently, and puts two pancakes on his plate and pours syrup over them. He acts as though he is alright, but inside, he's suffering.

"Thank you for breakfast. It looks very good."

"You're welcome." They both eat their breakfast quietly. Both in pain. Both worried about what lies ahead.