Face The Music

Masterpiece Theatre III

My god, Aunt Lynn. What happened to you? I'm starting to think you'll never be able to read these letters, because you'll die before you relearn to read. I'm scared. What am I supposed to do?

At this point, these aren't even letters to you. They aren't, because it's only me venting my fears. You couldn't just sit still, could you? In the hospital, again. Damnit. What'd you do it for, Auntie? We were all sleeping just fine. Henry's snores were rocking the house like they always do, and Josh stayed over with Bennie because I guess his loft is sometimes too lonely at night. His breathing is softer than the petals of the marigolds he picked from the community park for me were, I swear, and Bennie was the warmest ball of fluff ever, and then you had to roll yourself out of bed. Why were you crawling down the stairs when I found you? You're lucky you only bruised your hip, but what were you doing? Mumbling unintelligible gibberish is hardly helpful, you know. 

But your immune system is shot out of the atmosphere, and this cold you've caught could be the end of it. Ha! That would be funny, wouldn't it? The great Lynn Clarke, dead from a simple strain of the cold virus. 

I take it back, Lynn. It wouldn't be funny at all. Stop dying, wouldn't you? You had some sort of a heart attack on the stairs. You were clutching your chest when I called the ambulance. I thought you ate healthy? What exactly have you been doing all your life? One scare after another, and I don't think I'll ever sleep again. I don't need another death, Lynn. Don't you fucking dare. Some stupid coma, again? Stop it. They won't let me in right now, because they say you need your rest, so I have to look at you through that measly little window they have by the patient's door. I can see you sneezing through your coma.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Who do you think you are, Lynn? Wake the hell up. Henry's been living out of that damn waiting room for days. How long will you be in that coma? You're starting to have hacking coughs. How you do it out of that deep sleep you're in, I might never understand. I would've thought something like that would be peaceful. Josh brings coffee and a smile in the mornings, and I don't know what I ever did to deserve that. I wish we could buy him into our family. He could live in the refurbished basement, and Bennie could sleep in my room. 

You've proved your point, whatever it is, Lynn. I get it. You're tired of chasing after our tails, and you want a nice, long vacation in the tropics while we sort everything else out here. We'll clean up, alright? But you can't fly down there if you're not awake and functioning. So get up! The doctor's are getting skeptical. You need to prove them wrong. 

Remember that one time, when Henry drove us all the way down to the Florida Keys? He was convinced that he could do the entire thing without sleeping once. I confess that I believed him; even then, I never had respect for the benefits of sleep. Still don't, I suppose. Well, he made it, and we got there. When he stepped out of the car, he passed out flat, and he hit his face on the pavement and got a concussion. Poor Henry – he had to sit out of all the amusement park rides that trip. I got my driver's license while we were down there, too, so you and I took turns driving back. We could do that again, if you wake up. Henry won't mind, I promise.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

What the fuck? WHAT THE FUCK, LYNN? WHAT DID I DO? WHAT DID YOU DO? WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS? I DON'T FUCKING CARE IF YOU'RE TIRED. KEEP THAT HEART BEATING. OH MY GOD. OH MY GOD. THEY'RE GETTING THE HEARTBEAT-STARTING PAD THINGS OUT. I CAN'T REMEMBER WHAT THEY'RE CALLED. What are they called?? My god, Lynn, what the hell? Breathe! Fucking breathe! Keep your heart beating! I don't know why I'm writing this anymore. You'll never see these. But I can't bear to look at you. The greyness of the paper is much preferable to watching you slowly fade. Your pale skin and the shadows on your cheekbones and your eyes rolling in endless circles under their lids. How dare you have darkness under your eyes? You've been sleeping this whole time, Lynn. You didn't even say goodbye to me, and I've been awake these long nights. How dare you?

Your breathing's gotten so shallow. The pads don't look like they're working.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

My god. Auntie. What have you done? Henry's locked himself in one of the hospital rooms, and I can hear him screaming from all the way in here. Your damned heart. I never believed in god, but I would now, if something fixed you. Yours was the strongest heart of all of ours, you know. We all knew that. Why the hell did yours give out first?

Josh is such a rock. He's hugging me, so I have to be calm. I wish I could be the one losing my mind, screaming my lungs out across the hospital. I wish I could physically feel my ribs cracking under the pressure, because I can feel everything else. I wish I were the one dead. I should've died with my family. 

Do you know about the butterfly effect? Do you believe in it? I suppose there's nothing to 'believe in', because there's no way it's not real. So suppose that my life was a trade. Suppose that I should've ended with Eren and Jessa and Mom and Dad. I believe it. I never knew how I could've survived. And here, you, Auntie. Suppose that was the butterfly effect. God, I wish I were six feet under. The funeral's going to be next Sunday. I guess I'll bury everything with you.