Collaborated Damage

Chapter Fourteen

Help me.

Helen's thin body lay over mine. Her hair was down and long. She smelled like the ocean just after a storm, a second chance. Helen's arms wrapped tightly around my waist and squeezed me close like she hadn't seen me in ages. 

"Birdie," I gasped out as her lips brushed over my neck. She left goose pimples where they were. 

Her hands weaved themselves into my hair and she kissed me like it was a lifeline, not that I was complaining. I kissed back feverishly knowing that somehow this would be ruined. My lips were swollen and my tongue burned, but I couldn't get enough of it.

She tasted like apple pie on a hot summers day and salty tears. I pulled back and looked at her. There was something wrong about this, something so very wrong, and yet there was nothing I could see out of place. 

I flipped her over a little to rough to look at my lover, my Birdie. Her dark hair fanned across the white pillows, contrasting deeply. Her doe eyes lay closed and a Mona Lisa smile rested on her lips. Helen's pale face was sunken in.

I traced her long eyelashes with the tip of my finger down along her nose, to her small lips. She smiled beneath me, still keeping her eyes closed. My fingers found themselves running up and down her thin neck to her prominent collar bones. 

The feel of the bones brought concern to me but not enough for me to stop from kissing her. I placed my lips on hers and held her close. My eyes fell drowsily shut. Instead of a delicious and familiar taste, blood and metallic seeped into my mouth. 

I tried to pull away but her lips continued to graze mine. Her eyes were now open but nothing was there, just a dark sea where men would get lost and be drowned by demented fucking sirens. Scream, scream, all I wanted to do was to scream.

And to stay right there in her arms.

"Wake up, Blue." She whispered against my lips. 

It all fit together then. Helen was dead, this was a dream, and she wasn't missing any eyes. But I wasn't too sure if I wanted to wake up or not. I missed her. I wanted her arms to be around me. I wanted my fingers entwined with hers. I wanted my lips place on the crown of her hair. I want to be able to fabricate her back to life.

But I couldn't. And I did the only thing I could do and woke back up. 

My eyes opened and I saw three unwanted faces. My dear Ant who looked very pissed off. Her nose was scrunched up and her hair was pulled back from her face into a sloppy knot. There was my crying mother in the corner of the room and dear old Nate playing with his lighter.

I cracked a grin in a false attempt of showing that I was okay. "Hey, Annette. Long time no see?"

Annette slapped me in the face before she pressed a kiss onto my forehead. "You stupid bastard."

My mother patted my leg before she left the room. "I'll be a phone call away if you need me." 

Nate grinned at me with a crooked smile and said something about me being a pussy. I just closed my eyes and wished I had a cigarette. I asked Nate for one and he told me no and that I needed to get my act together.

"What happened?" I asked Annette, who was texting away furiously at her new boy toy. 

She looked up from her phone before glancing back down at it again. I watched her as her fingers tapped her legs before she answered. "You called me and you sounded crazy, no offense. When I came to get you, you were passed out beside her grave.."

Nate flicked his lighter closed and came over to my bed. "And Annette got all freaked out man and called me to come an' help." He chuckled a bit at my awkwardness. This was strange, maybe I was still sleeping. "I helped bring you back and tucked you into bed like a good guy I am."

I fingered my fraying sweater that I don't remember putting on. With a quick decision I took my phone off of the night stand behind me and dialed a number from my memory, praying that they still had the same number.

After a few rings someone picked up the phone. "Hi, it's Blue."

"Holy fucking shit, man." June gasped into the phone. She had a raspier voice now but she still swore like a sailor.  

"Hi." I repeated. This was on the highest level of awkwardness. I hadn't spoken to them in two years and here I was calling out of the blue, no pun intened.

She coughed. "Hey man." I heard some shuffling and then her shouting, "Hey, Donald! Blue's on the phone. Yes. Blue. Yes, our Blue. Do you know any other Blues?" 

I was on speaker phone now, chatting away with little ease with my old family. Finally Donald ended the small talk and came to the real shit. "What do you want, Blue?"

I heard a smack and then a quiet 'ow'. "Don't be rude, Donald." 

"No, no, June, it's fine. I kind of deserve for going MIA on you guys." I paused. "But I'm calling because I need music again."

There was a short silence. "I'm dying here, guys." I whispered. 

June broke first. "Where are you lovey?"