All Areas Accessed - Sequel to Access All Areas

Chapter Thirty Six

After being alone for hours and hours, I eventually ended up back at Will's. On my behalf, he's liaised with my record company and the police. I've spoken briefly with Don on the phone, who told me that mom is obviously heartbroken but he's been trying to get her to rest.

He also told me that he thought both me and mom had kept Maci alive with all that we had done for her just that little bit longer. "Maybe we were all just prolonging her agony?" He had calmly asked.

And maybe we were?

Maybe all the therapists, rehabs and the pay-offs were just prolonging the inevitable?

Bottom line is: Maci died of an overdose.

As numb as I have been feeling. With that knowledge, comes a tragic sense of relief. I knew this day would one day come. No matter how much we fought to prevent it from happening; it happened anyway.

Maci let drugs consume her. She let them kill her. And with her death my sister has one last time thrown me into a vat of the most destructive of emotions. Emotions that I don't cope well with and the kind that no person would ever want to have. I actually considered getting drunk, but Will snatched the bottle of vodka from between my fingers, saying that it wasn't going to help me.

Maybe he's right. Getting blind drunk is not going to help. But after too much thinking and too much of not really saying anything, I figured that vodka might stop the thinking and stop the not knowing what to say. In the end, Will was bluntly to the point with me—I had to go home.

I've been putting off going home. I've been putting off having to face Clara. Instead, I chose to guiltily ignore her call to me, so I could soak a little longer in that vat of destructive emotions that my sister has left me with. There now seems to be so many reasons for not being able to face Clara—blame, guilt, relief, shame, pride and fear—they've all been making me want to be alone.

But Will hit a very exposed nerve when he said I was in self destruct mode; that I was being just like Maci, but doing it in a very different way.

That stung.

That slapped me in the face.

That alone, made me get off my miserable backside and tell Slam to take me home.

Now that I'm here, I feel like I'm slowly turning to stone.

I know I have to go inside, but my legs don't want to cooperate.

I'm overwhelmed.

I'm grieving.

I'm cloaked in absolute dread.

After however long I've been immobilised in the car, Slam apprehensively turns around in his leather seat. "You're home, Rhys."

I knew it was his gruff way of prompting me to move. Looking at my house, knowing that Clara is inside waiting for me, only makes me feel less inclined to get out of the car.

I'm going to have to tell Clara what has happened, and then I'll be reliving all that I've been feeling. The waves of dread ripple slowly through my veins, making me want to run—but that would be just like Maci, too. Inhaling a big breath, I quickly reach for the car door. "I'll be needing you tomorrow, Slam." Is all I can come up with.

"Sure. Anything you need, Rhys. I'll be there." Slam's reply has a subdued sympathy and encouragement attached to it, knowing that I am really struggling here.

Looking back over at him, my lips are unable to smile but they can express weak gratitude. "Thanks, Slam." Then I force myself out of the car. Force myself to walk towards the house and force myself to face all that I've been cowardly avoiding.

But no sooner am I inside, the paralysis hits. With my back against the inside of the front door, I just stand there. In the darkness of my hallway, I just remain where I am. The smell of my home and the comforting smell of Clara that now also lingers in amongst that homely scent, literally stops me from moving a muscle. It's just a painful reminder of what I have already lost and a painful reminder of what I am going to lose next.

Maci is gone.

Her baby is gone.

Clara will soon be gone.

With my wrecked head dropped low, I just remain where I am. Even when I hear Clara calling out to me. I can't move. I can't reply. I can't do anything.

I'm losing everything. That is what the emotional embers of my mind are now telling me. I'm standing in the dark and am living in the dark.

This is the feeling of loss.

This is the taste of loss.

It's dark and lonely. And it's now my life. My legs succumb to the weight of my devastation. I slide down to the floor, buckled and broken against the front door. As my knees give way, so do all of my pent up emotions. Guttural sobs start shaking my entire body. For the first time, I am crying the biggest and heaviest of tears. As they tumble down my cheeks, they leave behind thin trails of regret and despair. So much regret and despair now weep from my eyes as my heart painfully constricts with sorrow and guilt.

I can still hear Clara, but I can't speak.

Even when she holds me so lovingly strong and tight, I can't respond like a man.

The loss now has full control of me.

Only the loss is reaching my soul.

The loss.

The darkness.

It has me.