Breathe

Chapter 10 - A Man and A Dog and A Piano

Once we stepped foot in the room, a whiff of familiarity and flowers mixed with metals flooded my nostrils. Looking around, I saw nothing familiar. It was only a room with heavy dark accents and dark yet soothing lighting, which made it seem like one of the activity rooms in the hospital. Eventually, my eyes fell on a woman, seated near us, behind a desk, who was staring at us with eyes that seemed to sparkle, even under such a dim light.

Seemingly happy that we noticed her, with a thick, southern accent, she asked, "Hello there, sweethearts. How can I help you?"

I heard Phil stammering, failing to form comprehensible sentences, and stepped forward. With a forced smile for formalities, I replied, "Hello, Miss..." I glanced at her name on the desk. "...Jones. We are here because we are wondering where we need to go to be able to attend our classes as usual."

"What do you mean?" she asked, cocking her head. "You're not late—you should be able to go to class 'as usual'. Why don't you go to class as usual?"

"We haven't been to school for a while," I explained, "for a few months, to be exact."

"For a few months?" she asked with her eyebrows raised. "Honey, where have you been?"

Still stammering, Phil said dramatically, "M-Ma'am, we've been through so much! M- O-our moms... our moms... t-they... a few months ago..."

"Our mothers became infected," I finished. "With—"

"—Tuberculosis!"

"The X.Q. virus," I corrected. "They were walking down the streets a few months ago, chatting along as they always did, and then—"

"There was a man and a dog and a piano. A... dog-man playing the piano!"

"They were fascinated with the man dressed as a dog playing the piano and walked over to him. They began talking to said man dressed as a dog playing the piano. They talked to him for seemingly hours and hours, and then—"

Immediately, Phil cried, "Then, all hell broke loose! Blood, blood everywhere! On the streets, on the piano, o-on the dog costume! Everywhere! Just... just blood. And our mothers... our mothers..."

"...since they didn't die from the onslaught of military men, they were subjected to the X.Q. gas."

"Whoosh! It came in so suddenly! And our moms... our moms..."

"They inhaled."

With tears streaming down his face, he cried, "And, oh, the horror! My mom... our moms... they inhaled the X.Q. gas and became..." In a softer voice, he murmured, "Infected with the X.Q. virus."

"We have been with our mothers ever since."

"We have been spending countless hours, countless days by their sides, hoping—praying—that somehow, in some way, they'd become fine. That they'd be okay. 'Cause you know... all we could do was hope and pray. We just... watched them as they began to fade away. Really, it was hopeless. There was no reason for us to stay. But... but Mom... I didn't want to see her leave. We didn't want to see our moms leave." He sniffled. "But then, before we knew it—"

"—Last week, they died."

"They passed away. After a few months of staying with them, they finally passed away." He covered his eyes. "And yesterday, we held their funerals. Together. 'Cause they always really liked each other, and they died in the same room as each other. So we honored their friendship and let them be buried in graves next to each other." Once again, he sniffled. "And even though they've been gone for a week now, we're still not okay."

"We'll never be okay."

"Yeah...we'll never be okay," he agreed. Wiping away his tears and forcing a smile, he said, "But we have to start picking up the pieces. We have to start carrying on with our lives. And that's why we're here. After all these months, after all these days that we missed, we're back. 'Cause we know that our moms would've wanted us to come back to school... and carry on normal lives. Like the rest of the kids here. And so, we came today to re-enlist so it can be normal again. Or at least, be as normal as it can after this mess. 'Cause that's what our moms would've wanted. 'Cause they'd want us to be happy again."

He looked up. His eyes were red, and his cheeks and lips rivaled them. Tears stained the side of his cheeks and snot was dripping from his nose. He looked like a mess—a hot mess. "And that's where we've been for the past few months."

I looked at Miss Jones. Her hands were covering her mouth. Her eyebrows had formed a little tent, yet that did nothing to stop water from coming in. Underneath her eyes, a thin streak of black could be seen, stretching from her lashes to the tops of her cheeks. Wiping away her tears, she got up and hugged us. Phil hugged her back. I only stared at the back of her dress.

With a nasally, shaking voice, she said, "I'm sorry that you had to go through that, Sweethearts. B-But you know, things will get better. Just wait—you'll see. A-And you know what? I bet you that your moms would be proud of you for m-mustering up the courage and coming back. They'd be happy that you're trying to carry on living, even w-without them."

Phil nodded. "I know," he said between sobs, "I know that they'd be happy. That's why we're here."

She nodded, too. "I know you know, Honey. I know," she said, "And we're happy that you want to carry on, too. Just know that everyone here is going to be supportive of you, okay? Don't worry about being alone—we're here for you. We'll always be here for you."

Suddenly, Phil began to cry. And so did Miss Jones. They just kept their slumped postures and clung to each other as they sobbed their hearts out, sobbed their feelings out. The room was filled with their ugly, cacophonous cries.

All I did was stand there, somewhat flabbergasted. Then again, all I could do was stand there, somewhat flabbergasted. I didn't know what to say. And if I were to say something, wouldn't that only make the situation worse? Wouldn't I just be singling them out for their pent-up feelings—no, wouldn't I be singling myself out for my lack of pent-up feelings?

I rested my face against her shoulder. Then, I slumped myself over her and began to unnaturally shake. I tried to act like them because if I were to act like them, then I wouldn't seem odd or irregular like the shakiness of their bodies. I joined the fray of cries.

Eventually, they were done and we all pulled back. I kept my gaze down. I heard her stumble back to her seat and sit down. Then, I heard the sound of pen scribbling against paper. Then, the sound of something ripping and a pen dropping.

"Here," she said. "Take this and go to room 210. Give this to the person in there to tell him to let you take the GPT."

I looked at her through my bangs. Her face was pink, the same shade of pink of a drunk man's face. Keeping my face down, I took the slip from her hands and softly nodded. "Thank you," I said softly, "thank you for believing our story."

She smiled. "Thank you for being brave."

I felt a pang in my chest and smiled. "We don't deserve to hear that." Not right now, at least. But I looked up and smiled. "But thank you for saying that."

~.:.~~.:.~~.:.~

10/11/17: Well, this was a pretty late update—sorry about that. Anyway, here's chapter 10! Hopefully, it didn't suck as much as I thought it did. Believe me, I'm trying; I guess my "trying" wasn't that good.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! If you did, please vote, comment—everything and anything helps. Thanks, and I hope you keep reading!