Slipping Away

Chapter 39

February 10th, 1996

Michael was sleeping peacefully when he felt a chill creep into his bedroom and wrapped the blanket tighter around himself. He figured that Mariah was still up and had opened up a window in their bedroom.

"Mariah, shut the window." He groaned.

There's no windows in here...just a balcony.

He rolled over and saw the curtains flailing in the wind, but he couldn't see Mariah. Suddenly fearing the worst, he got up and went out on the balcony. Mariah was sitting on the railing, dangling her legs haphazardly. 

He stopped, afraid to startle her and send her over. "Mariah...?"

She swung her head around, face stained with tears. She acted as if she didn't recognize him, then turned back while humming a song to herself.

"Spread your wings and prepare to fly so that you will become a butterfly..." She sang quietly.

Michael looked back, wondering if he should go get Bill or stay with Mariah. "Mariah, you're scaring me. Please get off the rails."

"You don't understand, Michael." She whispered. "You never understand."

"Then help me understand. We can talk, just please get off the rails." He pleaded.

Mariah continued to stare out into the city, as if she didn't hear him.

"Mimi, please." He eased a bit closer to her. "Baby, talk to me."

Michael bit his lip at the slip-up he made, not caring that he and Mariah weren't together any longer; he needed to save her. 

He took a deep breath to steady his voice. "Mariah, just come inside."

She looked down and Michael tensed himself so that he could run and catch her if she jumped. "Why are you doing this?"

"I love you." He answered honestly. "I hate to see you hurt like this. Please just come back inside."

Mariah glanced back at him, fresh tears forming in her eyes. She swung her legs back over and Michael went to catch her as she became a sobbing mess in his arms. 

"Don't you ever scare me like that again." He scolded gently, giving her a peck on her forehead. "God, Mariah." 

She continued to sob as they lingered on the balcony, due to Michael's own shaking legs. Now, he was terrified to leave Mariah by herself for even a second. She had been sad, but he never thought she had been depressed or thought that suicide was an option. 

"I'm sorry." She murmured, burying her head into his chest.

He shook his head. "Don't be sorry. I'm here for you, okay? Don't you ever think that suicide is an option, you're not alone in this."

He finally calmed himself enough to get up and he picked Mariah up, carrying her back to his bed. "Talk to me, Mariah."

She sniffled. "I just don't feel like myself. Nothing feels real anymore...you wouldn't believe the things he did to me."

He wrapped an arm around her. "What did he do to you?"

"He-Sometimes, he would make me have sex with him. After he'd hit me, he would make me take all of my clothes off and then he'd just...Then sometimes, I'd pass out and wake up naked."

Michael felt his blood boil. "He raped you."

She started shaking her head. "No, no he was my husband-"

"Hell no. You have the right to say no, husband or not." Michael said.

She wiped her eyes. "My mom told me to do as he said, that everything would be okay if I followed his orders. Nothing I did was good enough. He made me feel dirty, but it's so deep. It never how much I showered, I couldn't get the stains out. I couldn't get clean, but it was his right as my husband to make me feel that way."

"No one has the right to make you feel less than. You are beautiful, intelligent, talented, and he shouldn't have treated you that way. He's a sick bastard and I knew that. I know I came off as jealous, but I was only trying to protect you." He said.

Michael could tell it hurt for Mariah to tell him this and it explained her need to hide her face and her fear of being outside. She had been made to feel inferior for so long she was forgetting how beautiful she really was.

"I should've listened to you. I-I'm sorry." She murmured.

He kissed her forehead again, pulling her close to him. "I just want you to be okay. I want you to be happy."

She offered him a weak smile. "Then don't ever leave my side."

February 10th, 1996

Michael was tightly gripping her waist when she woke up the next morning. She tried to get up, but he tightened his grip on her, nuzzling her neck. It took her back to the days when they were together on those rare days Michael would sleep in so she curled up closer to him, reveling in being close to him, a small victory for her.

Mariah had felt like she had been in free-fall since she had left Tommy. She spent her days afraid and depressed, and her nights tormented by nightmares that wouldn't cease. 

She had come to her breaking point the previous night on the balcony, but she hadn't expected Michael to come save her. She had felt the distance between them she told him about the abortion and it hurt her, so she lashed out at him. She was really angry with herself, which is what led her to the railing.

She rolled over to look at Michael's sleeping face. He looked peaceful, but she knew it wouldn't last. It would soon be touring for him and she knew he rarely got any sleep or peace of mind while he was on the road. 

She closed her eyes and took in his essence, grateful for his presence and his love, something that she wished she could give him in return. She couldn't love him the way he loved her, she didn't know how. She thought she had loved him before, but now she wasn't so sure.

The blaring alarm clock roused her from her thoughts as Michael let out a yawn.

"You're up early." He observed, getting up from the bed and stretching.

She nodded. "Yeah, I have a lot on my mind."

"Do you want to talk about it?" He asked.

Mariah shook her head. "You can't be late. You have a short film to do."

Michael shrugged. "You're a bigger concern to me. A short film can wait."

"It can wait, Mike. I promise." She offered him a smile to calm his nerves. 

He leaned over to give her a peck on her forehead. "Do you feel better from last night?"

"Yeah, I feel a lot better. Thank you." She said, looking down.

He lifted her head by her chin. "I never want to see you look down again."

Mariah smiled shyly. "I won't."

"Good. I'll be in the bathroom if you need me."

Mariah was gripping tightly to Michael's hand as they walked through the favela to meet Spike Lee. It wasn't the favela that scared her, but being outside in general. She still couldn't reconcile herself to coming out and being around large groups of people.

"What does your shirt say?" She asked Michael, noticing a word printed across the shirt in addition to the little stick figures with peace signs for heads.

"Olodum." He explained. "It's a group of Afro-Brazilian drummers. They're going to be part of the short film."

Mariah nodded pensively. 

"You can stay in my trailer if you want. I don't want you to get overwhelmed by all of this, there are going to be a lot of people." He warned.

Mariah could hear the large crowd of people forming, but she figured if she didn't get over her fears now she'd have an even harder time when she went on tour next month.

"I'll come with you."