Josh, I want to die today...
Death has intertwined its fingers with mine, it leads me to the bathroom. Humming a song, I used to know so well, it lays me in the water to float until I can't hear my heart screaming for one more day, to try to convince my brain that it wants to live.
But still, the only thing that I am drowning in is this blanket... for now
I sit up and grab a pen from my nightstand.
Feb 10th
I'm sorry that this is the way you will find me. I know that this has made your day worse than it already was. I know right now you're trying to figure out what could have been done to save me. I want to save you the worry, the answer is nothing. When Josh died everything in me died, until now the body has yet to follow. Mom, please watch Kennedy, teach her to be the amazing woman I failed to be.
Forever yours ,
Shannon
I go into Mere's room to find her sleeping. She is sleeping like she's finally stolen a breath of fresh air after years of suffocating under the weight that this year has placed on her shoulders. She is sleeping like she is safe. In our conversations over the last few days she's opened up to me more about what is actually going on and what really brought her down here. Her bruises have almost completely faded. She told me that Dalton is an alcoholic and has been beating her for months now.
"He just gets so angry", that's what she said to me. The way her voice broke sounded like there were shards of her heart caught in her throat.
I slip into bed with her, admiring the residue that her makeup had left on my now ruined pillows. I brush her hair out of her face.
"Since when did you get up before me?", My sister mumbles and turns over to hug me.
"When I started drinking coffee. Wanna cup?", I sit up on the edge of the bed anxiously rubbing the palms of my hands together.
My sister and I have our first happy discussion since she arrived. It's not about her husband, or my husband. We had a conversation about us, and about life. It feels good to discuss something living for once. The living spend so much time trying to speak the dead back to life that we forget about the fact that were still alive.
"The living spend so much time trying to speak the dead back to life that we forget about the fact that were still alive... whether we want to be or not."
The bags under Shannon's eyes hang low, holding all eight cups of coffee she has had today. These words hang like the coffee on her breath in the air. Today is a day of dust, of grime, of remembering. There is never enough space for pain. Her heart is a weight in her chest that anchors her to her bed for today is a day of death. The air hangs heavy in her lungs, her heart beat is a cracked bell in the steeples of her mind. She slips into the salted water, breathing deeply. The medication in her system keeps her from fighting the water entering her lungs, as the salt stings in the wounds she's giving herself. The rose-colored water in the tub is now covering the tiles, seeping out and onto the dark hard wood floors. The ringing in her head goes away, the church of her body collapses under its own weight as a letter of apology lays on the sink with her wedding ring as a paper weight.
Dianne turns the key in the door.
Kennedys beads hit one another as she runs, they echo in the emptiness of the house. She runs to her mom's room, through the puddle of water collecting in the hallway. Dianne sees the water rushing from the bathroom. She drops to the floor, her voice leaves her, as she pulls her daughters limp body over the edge of the tub.
Kennedy stands in the puddle , screaming, crying, choking on her trauma.
The paramedics arrive seconds before Meredith as if she were cued in by the sirens.
"Watch KayDee", Dianne says as she gets in the car
