Deal With It By: Audrey B. Holley

Chapter 15

"So this is your winter break, correct?" Mrs. Rubert questions me.

To my relief, she isn't let down with my absence over the last few appointments. My body eases from the growing tension, and I relax my face with an affable smile.

"Yes it is." 

"Have you done anything exciting? Any plans?" She sweeps a dangling red strand of hair back into her small purple clip.

"I saw Benjie Friday after school. I haven't done anything else sensational. I have been busy with work, and I also have a paper in English due after break."

When I stop discussing the earlier days of my week, I notice she scribbles something on her paper.

Next question she asks is, "Whose this Benjie?"

"He's a boyfriend of mine." I explain.

"And how about Henry, are you coping better with his death?" She eyes me, studying my next reaction.

I gulp down the lodge in my throat, and with much force I say, "It's hard, but I'll get through it." 

She then switches the topic back to our previous subject. "How long have you and-" She glances to her clipboard, and then peers at me. "Benjie known each other?"

"I'd say a little over 4 weeks maybe." I reply and rub my nose with the tissue.

Concern wrinkles her forehead as she makes a mental note to herself. "And you're dating?"

"Yes." I frown in confusement. "Why?"

"Keelie..." She leans forward, propping her elbows on her knees. "Do you think that maybe Benjie is a replacement of Henry?"

"What do you mean?" My defensive side eases up my throat.

"Do you think that you might be using Benjie to replace Henry?"

"I don't know what you mean." I say frigidly, crossing my arms over my chest. Mrs. Rubert touches a hand to my knee, and looks at me with genuine apprehension.

"I'm afraid you're struggling with his absence. I think maybe you should take some time to think about what really is the matter, and if your unwillingness to let go of what happened is the thing compelling you to dive into a relationship with a boy you hardly know."

* * * * *

Thoughts of what Mrs. Rubert had suggested crowd around my focus. Am I going into something too soon? It isn't like me to be unprepared and clumsy about things.

Tonight I toss and turn as if sleep has lost its way with me. I am weary, yet I can't seem to drift off somewhere into the dimension of my mind where dreams are held. What's the matter with me?  

Memories dig into my brain, and suffocate me long enough to pull forth a thought that is forever in the center of everything. A man that I wish could breathe invades my eyes with flashbacks of a past that should of never happened. I wince at the lurching twinges swerving its pity into the developing bitterness of me. I'm gulped below a solid ground, and I can't seem to budge the clear dirt. I can't inhale. I'm squirming like a helpless worm, and the bird is sitting there in the shadows, waiting for the loneliness to grasp me with a full effect. I shrink smaller and smaller until I'm a scrambling, scared ant bound to be crushed from the weight of a large foot.

It all slumps me low, gobbling at my brain, making me dig my nails into the tender flesh of my sweaty palms. 

It's just another one of those restless nights.

I hear my heart crackling inside my chest. 

Sobs bark and spit in the air vulgarly. My throat blisters and surges from the waves of weeping I can't control. I can almost feel my neck thickening from the mouthful of cries desperate to unleash, but imagine I look normal, only a red eyed girl crying from a loss she hadn't meant to leave unfound.

I manage to swallow my slobbery spit, and say, "God please," I struggle to gather myself in a whisper. "Make it go away. Please."

Knock!

I silence myself.

Knock! Squeak!

"Keelie?"

I clear my throat. "Yeah David?"

His massive shadow looms into the darkness of my bedroom. I watch as his faint form makes its way to the edge of my bed.

I feel him sit down as he says, "Please don't cry. You know I hate it when people cry."

"What makes you think I was crying? I was snoring is all."

"Keelie, I know you better than that."

I manage to stifle a pleading moan that screams for comfort.

He sighs as if he feels what I feel. 

"Have the meetings and therapy with Mrs. Rubert been helping?"

"Yes and no."

"Explain."

"Yes because some days I actually want to get out of bed, but no because I still cry, and the pain is still there," then I croak, "It hurts so bad."

He gropes blindly for my hand in the dark, and touches my pinky finger.

"It's going to get worse before it gets better. Just remember, it does get better," he pauses only a moment. "I promise," he says sternly.

I swallow the forming lump in my throat, and blabber into a sob, "Thanks David." My body trembles, and it all bites against my bleeding chest, but only I see the blood.

He squeezes my pinky and leaves.