Staring at the ceiling in the dark and listening to the harsh cries of my girlfriend was not how I would've liked to spend Valentines Day. Even after a month of our loss, the wounds Louise left behind were still fresh. Everyday Beatrice would rub salt in them and blame herself for not protecting her. How can one protect someone from themselves? The doctor confirmed a few days ago that she suffered from a massive eating disorder and it had been going on for months upon months under our noses. He also said it was hard to tell if it was suicide from the biopsy, in that moment Beatrice walked out of his office in floods of tears, and that it was a possibility that Louise took her own life by purposely making herself throw up every forkful of food until her stomach was empty. But surely Louise wouldn't, would she?
"I see her everywhere," Bea recalled, sat with her bare knees tucked to her chest in nothing but her bra and knickers; not matching of course. "When I'm trying to sleep, when I'm trying to eat, when I'm trying to do the washing, when I'm passing our favourite childhood gossip spot. She won't go away. Even just her presence riddles my body with guilt. Every scare inch of my body is flooded with pain and misery every time I remember that she's gone. I know she's here," Bea took her glance to different sections of the room. Although they were covered in darkness and her movements weren't clear to me, I could still see her eyebrows furrow and her tears roll down her cheeks. "Stop this please. I can't live with the guilt."
I took her in my arms and held her against my chest. Our breathing was in sync as our bare chests inhaled and exhaled each other's carbon dioxide. We just sat there, breathing, for what seemed like a century. For so long that my head began spinning and we went downstairs to make a midnight snack.
"This isn't your fault," I finally thought of a valid answer to her queries. "This is in Louise's hands."
"You believe the madman, don't you?" Bea's eyebrows narrowed as she cursed against the doctor. "You really think that my best friend would take her own life?"
"Madman," I evaluated in my husky and sleepy voice. "You mean the man who has a degree in medicine and went to college and university to study being a doctor?"
"He doesn't know Louise like I did," She looked down at her thumbs as she twirled them around. "Nobody did,"
I quickly skipped around the table and wrapped my arms around her. She began weeping into my skin and held my bare chest against hers. After a few seconds of almost-naked emotional hugging, I looked into her eyes and made sure they were locked on mine.
"Today is our day,"
"Happy Valentines day!" Mum screamed from the top of her lungs, bedazzled with jewelry Fabian had gotten her, walking into the kitchen with two shiny, gold bags.
"Happy Valentines day, Mom," I grinned and hugged her, then noticed the bags. "What are-"
"For you two," She gestured to me and Bea with her head. "Go on, open them!"
We took one of the bags each and opened them to see the exactly the same present.
"Miss Wicks you don't need to flatter me with alcohol." Bea investigated the wine bottle from head to toe before trying to pronounce the French name on the label.
"Don't be ridiculous, of course I do." She laughed deeply. "I'm going to get changed, are you two coming to the party?"
We looked at each other and debated with facial expressions.
"I don't know, Miss Wic-"
"We'll be there," I smiled, sarcastically and threw a light grimace at Bea; now sat crossed legs with her truly messy bun, dressing gown and mug of soup. "What time?"
"6 o'clock," She smiled, showing her natural creases and whizzing upstairs.
"What did you do that for?" Bea cursed at me, her face turning a tomato red.
"This is our day, remember?" I jumped from my seat and took my crumpets to the living room.
"Rose don't hit your brother, hit the pinata!" Fabian shouted at my two dizzy and blindfolded siblings hitting a fabric made pinata with wooden sticks.
Mum had done a good job decorating the town's function room. The floor was covered in red and light pink hearts, along with the white table clothed tables. It was her work's annual Valentines' Day party, like a Christmas party but including more alcohol and more sex appeal. I have seen no woman over 50 with more cleavage on show than Mum's work friend Alison Abelson. The boobs on that OAP... I mean.. What?
The DJ was pushed against the back wall, inline with the two double, wooden doors that swung in and out like we were in a cowboy's saloon. The disco ball was in about the centre of the ceiling along with the special lights that glimmered romantic colours; red, pink, white and light purple. They played child friendly mainstream music, not once did I dare request You Me At Six or Sleeping With Sirens.
Throughout the night there were laughs and lots of cocktail sausages. Bea got herself smashed. I was the driver and couldn't get drunk; but I preferred being sober. I like having a casual odd glass of wine, but I've never been embarrassingly drunk. It reminds me of my dad. When he got drunk he used to hit us all and call us foul names. I didn't want to be like him. Alcohol changes people.
"Did you have a fun time?" I asked Bea, her straddled over my shoulder.
"YES!" She giggled and almost fell from my shoulder. "Oopsie."
"Yes, oopsie." I smiled and stroked her hair, which was messy. Her eyeliner was immensely smudged and her lisp-tick was running down her chin as if she was Dracular with blood dripping from his teeth.
"Don't mess my do," She giggled once again and played with it sarcastically. "I did this myself."
"I know you did," I decided to play along. Drunk happiness wasn't really real, and I knew that, but it had been all about Louise all day. Her death lurked on her mind and if alcohol distracted her, I was happy. "It's beaaaaauuuutiful."
"Is this your way of getting into my knickers?" Bea's smug little face said "I want sex."
You can guess what happened next.
YOU ARE READING
Olive Tree (WAIK Sequel)
HumorI wish I could say things got better for us after I woke up, but if I did, I would be lying. Life isn't peaches and cream. It is a roller coaster full of bad people who put you down because you're different or they simply don't like you for no reas...