You Saved Me Once

The First Day We Met

The only female in a house of all boys. Still don't know how I survived. Now it's just Jake and me. Jake's the youngest among the four of us. I'm the middle, then Adam, then our oldest brother, Jack.

They're both off, living their lives. Just thinking about life outside of Versa, gives me chills, makes me envy them.

I miss them. We haven't been together, in forever.

~~~~~

I get out of the shower and wrap myself in a towel. I give it 3 seconds, before Jake barges in. I watch the steam in the room, vanish in the new air.

"Is it just me or do females take so long in the bathroom, it's insane." He says.

I smile at his comment. I'm happy to hear Jake's humor. It lets me know he's doing better than before. It got bad a couple of months ago for him. Sometimes I'm scared, that he might be faking it.

"10 minutes is forever Jake, you're right. Sorry about that." I say. He ignores me.

We share a bathroom in our 4-bedroom 2.5-bathroom home. We'd never use the downstairs bathroom, the room closest to the kitchen, closer to the laundry room. We haven't been in that room in years.

"Can't be late, got a game today. The team's already riding my ass." He says.

He's scrambled, and the day just started. Seeing him like this makes me worried. I call his name, but he ignores me. My wet hair drips on the steamed floor.

His cold hands touch the humid mirror. He slides it open. The faucet runs, everything else is quiet. I watch him gulp it down with the water. He leaves the faucet running. He smiles at me.

"You've had like 20 games in the last two weeks, you guys haven't won, one yet." I joke.

Jake almost falls on the wet floor. This makes us both smile through the hate. No matter what Jake said, I could never hate him. It's just cold, humor hate. It's us showing our love to each other.

"Of course, you wouldn't understand, the only thing you're committed to is photographing oceans, and stuffing your face with ice cream." He says. I laugh.

"Hey! Make another sexist joke again, and I swear I'll-" He slams the door in my face.

"Fuck you!" I yell. He shouts it back.

I smile through the cold chills that now coat my skin.

~~~~~~

Today was going to be just like every other day of the week. Super simple, super repetitive, yet tolerable. Tolerable enough, for me to breathe.

Without a routine, I feel like I would crash. Crash and burn.

Here's a day in my life on a weekday. I get dressed, go downstairs, eat breakfast, get in my car and drive to school. The weekends aren't much different. I party, work, sleep and repeat. I still feel the same, I still feel empty.

This is my last year of high school, sounds bittersweet. I'm thankful though, because I can finally leave this town.

We get inheritances from our father when we turn a legal age. We can do whatever we want with it. I want to get away. I haven't told anyone yet. It's another secret.

I don't want to leave Jake though. I need him as much as he needs me.

These are usually my thoughts every day. I sit on my bed, staring at myself in the mirror, daydreaming.

Sometimes I'm brave enough to stare at the reminders taped on the mirror, the collages, memories from the past. I can't look for too long, even if they're good memories.

From my bed, I can see my once perfect, happy family, frozen in time, taped to the mirror. Then I look at another family on the mirror, the Bartley's.

All of the memories are stained with black scribbles. Now it's just a shitty, smudged mirror. I should throw it away.

Through the smudges, I look at my short messy hair, and my baggy clothes. I force a smile.

It gets too quiet too fast. I can hear the shower running. I grab my camera, put it around my neck and go downstairs.

Food. We have a love and hate relationship with one another.

There was a time when food and I didn't get along. It was a super dark time for me, for all of the Richards. We all handled things differently. For me, it was avoiding food altogether.

Sadly, I let this dark coping, turn into a habit.

Then something happened, because of the habit. It's a secret though. One of my darkest secrets. I try to not think about it too much.

I bite into the dark red apple, it's cold. The crunch warms me. Stops me from thinking too far in the past.

Jake comes downstairs.

"Do you have a spare?" Jake asks.

"What are you talking about?" I ask.

I put down the apple.

"A spare. For my car." Jake says.

His words are heavy, almost mean, yet recovered. We're close to the laundry room, we're close to her room.

I leave the kitchen and go to the garage. Jake follows me.

"Alex, do you have a spare?" Jake asks again. I ignore him.

There is a spare, inches away from him. It took him too long to notice it.

From the garage I see a car parked in front of Ms. Kristen's house.

She's been our neighbor for years. We were once close. We share secrets.

"Jake. Whose car is that?" I ask.

"Why are you whispering?" He mocks.

"Who do you think it is?" He laughs.

"Did Adam not tell you?" He asks.

"Tell me what?" I pry. He doesn't respond.

"Are you going to fucking tell me, or just stand there struggling with a man's job?" I say.

He drops the tire on his foot, it rolls off, then in a circle, until it finally stops. The tire smells new.