Collaborated Damage

Chapter Twelve

"Lie to me," He begged.

"We'll always be together," She promised.

Our foreheads rested against each others. Our breaths were heavy from that one last kiss. I guess that I knew, somewhere deep down inside of me that she was dying. Maybe it was the way she looked more frail each day or the fact that the light in her eyes were dimming. But this, the fact that she willingly touched me and was not scared proved to me that she was going away. For forever.

I gripped her arms. "Promise that you'll stay with me, Little Bird?"

She nodded and choked out a "Forever and a day,"

"And I'll see you tomorrow, right?"

"Right."

Somehow, for a person who prefered the truth above all else, these lies comforted me. 

------

I wiped me tears out of my eyes. I tried calling Ant. No answer. She was probably at her new boy's house. I called her again, even though there was no point; I liked to hear her voice. I called James even though he hadn't been around in years. I called Nate and he didn't answer. I just wanted someone to talk to. I was so lost. I am lost.

"Hello," an earthy voice answered. 

"Hi Mom, it's Blue." Of course it's me. I'm her only child.

"Blue baby. Where are you?" I was expecting a slurred voice, but instead came a clear strudy voice. It made me want to cry. And so I did.

"Mommy, I just want to come home." I turned away from the curious onlookers. Boys can cry too.

"Blue, where are you?" She demanded in a kind way.

"I dunno, I'm lost." I sniffled. 

I reached into my pocket and pulled out an empty pill bottle, and for some reason that made me cry even more. I could hear my mother cooing to me and telling me to calm down. I did know where I was and I didn't. I have lived in this city all of my life but I did not know where I was.

Two hours later I was in my mother's clean apartment with her calmly making tea.  I scanned the room for any beer cans or wine bottles. There was nothing. The floors were clean. My mother hummed as she warmed the tea. This was so fucking messed up. It's like I fell through the rabbit whole.

"You okay, baby?" She asked.

"Yeah, I uh-- just have to use the toilets." I frantically replied. 

"Hurry back." She went back to staring at the tea pot.

The bathroom was a sight. I was used to a mess, I welcomed it actually. But now everything was so clean. Too clean. Nothing was out of place. The floors were scrubbed so well that they actually shone beneath the florescent lighting and the cabinets were all in perfect order. I didn't know what to do.

I searched through the cabinets. Pills for bipolar depression, facial wash, hair care products, an old photo of me, deodorant, toothpaste and a tooth brush, could all be found in there. And then I found what I was looking for, a small flask of tequila. Old habits die hard, I guess.

I opened it and quickly drained it. My nerves calmed down, this was a great subsitute for pills. I looked in the mirror and a pale boy stared back at me. His hair, shaggy and dark, flopped over into his eyes; needing a haircut. His eyes were lifeless and his face was hollowed out. His cheeks were flushed from the alcohol, and his body was lean alomst sickly. 

Who the hell was the boy staring back at me? This was supposed to be the prime of my life. At twenty I should be going out with my friends and skipping classes at college. I shouldn't be like a dying man without any hope. 

Breathe in and breathe out.

My mom was waiting for me in the kitchen. Her tanned skin looked taut and her eyes tired. Her hands were wrapped tightly around her tea cup. When she saw me walk in she smiled stiffly. "You look nice."

She lied. I looked like an escaped sociopath. "Thanks. You look better."

"I turned myself around when you left. I didn't have you to take care of me anymore." She sighed. She looked at her tea as if it held all the answers of the universe.

"Yeah." Why did I even come here? Oh yeah, because I'm an idiot. 

"How's college life? I hope you're studying a bit." If you listend closely enough, you could still hear her French accent.

"I dropped out." I turned my face away from her.

I heard the faint click of the cup being set on the table. Her arms cautiously went around me and that's when I realized that I was cyring. She cooed into my ear like a mother would do to her baby. Did she do that to me when I was young and she wasn't a blasted drunk? She embraced me closer to her.

"Blue baby, let me take care of you now." She whispered, tears choking her own voice. "How can I help you?"

I breathed in her scent. Wildflowers and vodka. "Can you bring back the dead?"

She paused her soothing strokes on my hair. My shoulders shook from unwanted tears. The ache in my heart that was constantly present intensified. Thoughts of my childhood came to me, thoughts of Helen, thoughts of the band, happy and bad all came rushing over me. 

"Blue, who's gone baby?"

I buried my head deep into her shoulder.

"Helen."

It hung in the air like a heavy burden. I knew she was thinking back to her drunken days. When I'd sneak Helen past her sleeping form to my room. The pale skinny girl who was silent and played the violin. The one who I'd do anything for. The one I loved.