A Sun Full of Marigold

Chapter 1: Are You Lonesome Tonight?

Let's bring it back to the first time I saw Nita. That first day in the hospital when she looked so fragile and yet so beautiful at the same time.

I looked at the bandages on her arms, the thick coating of white around her wrists.

At first, I looked over at Hazel and wondered why she brought me here, of all places, after practice. I just wanted to go home and relax, or try to hide from my thoughts. The ladder would've worked.

I just stood there in front of this girl, a girl that I barely knew, and tried not to stare at her. She was obviously in some type of pain if she had tried to kill herself, and I have known that feeling for so long. I know that when I get like that, I don't like to be bothered, so maybe that's best here.

My sister doesn't really have a filter when it comes to certain things, so she doesn't know when to step back. Maybe this was one of those situations.

When I looked at her, all I saw was someone with a haunted past. It was like looking into a mirror, and I wanted to both look away and venture forward at the same time.

I tried to hide my thoughts with the biggest megawatt smile that I could manage. Hazel, being as intuitive as she is-although she doesn't know it-pinned me with those large eyes. My baby sister knows how to work people, especially me.

Her and Nita talked for a little while, and I could see the tired look in her eyes. Not just of the day, but of life in general. It made me wonder what was really going on in that mind of hers.

And so it all began. The fight for us. The fight that I so desperately wanted to win.

***

I sigh, stretching out on my bed. My roommates are noisy and booze-filled, and I can smell it from here. I turn over, trying not to vomit in my mouth from various memories that I would not like to indulge in. Too many nights to count.

Maybe that's why I've never liked Theo. I know that he hit the drink as hard as I did at some point. That he lost his innocence way before he should've.

I look out to the New York City skyline and wonder what Nita's doing now. I wonder if she's making art like she promised.

I wonder if she kept her promise to me, after all of this time.

I groan, holding a pillow to my face. It won't go away. The incessant chatter from my conscience. The inherent pyschobabble bullshit that's been in my mind since I've been seeing this therapist.

You can't change others, no matter how much you want to. You just have to let things play out. Most importantly, if you love something enough, you have to love it enough to be able to let it go.

I don't want to let go, even though we both made the concious decision to do it. It was a mutual agreement, and my heart aches.

I wonder if hers aches just as much as mine does.

I think about the booze that my roommates have and wonder if I could just let all of my problems slip through my fingers, just for one night. I won't have to worry about my aching heart, the constant reminder that I am not good enough, or my own worries about being away from home, about being away from Hazel.

I miss home and my house, and the way that Nita smiled at me. I miss late nights where all I did was get lost in the feeling that I had.

I want that feeling back.

I put my hand to my heart and feel it beating in my chest. I can feel it, pumping blood into my body. I am here, and I am real. This is real.

I look out at the polluted sky, wishing that I could see the stars. I bet, on a sleepless night, Nita would be at her window, counting as many stars as she could. She had a thing for that.