Second Book: Sarange Rising.

Just a phase.

*Jessica's voice*

"I know it's been so long since the last time I wrote, but what could I possibly say, things were going smooth, everything I've ever dreamt of is finally taking shape, a shape of a seventy-two years old woman, with curly red hair, which I must confess isn't so red anymore but in my mind I'll always remember her as she was when we first met, so far different from me and my ideas. Her point of view was remarkable, I never felt more intimate to a person before and while she was mumbling about her work and bragging about all the awards she had in her pocket, I would normally leave but I stayed, feeling strange under her "spell". We were together, with our kids and husbands. It was almost midnight and we were still talking, I've finally found a friend, I remember thinking to myself and even though some of her ideas weren't all so good to me, I knew I just had to accept them, no questions asked, cause no one's gonna put up with me -as Sam used to say- and at that age my friends were all gone, not dead, just gone. That's how I met Susan. Sometimes I wonder, maybe I'm trying to fill some empty spot inside of me with her, sucking in all the affection and kindness she's giving me without asking anything for return, it still puzzles me greatly but then again, I can't be so selfish. All the anger I was feeling, all the pain I have inside of me, it grows bigger every night when we're falling asleep but suddenly like the bird which returns back to the shelter, under the mother's wings, when I see her face, it all fades away. Every morning she wakes up before me, I know it. I feel it and I most certainly hear her. She whispers, how much she loves me and I... not knowing how to respond to that, I just keep pretending that I'm asleep. That's why I hate myself. I did it with Sam and I keep doing it with Susan too. Pretending. I hate that word, I really hate it but sometimes it saves me from myself, if I didn't know how to fake my reactions, well, first of all, I wouldn't be an actress but Susan would have left me the very first day. I went back to my doctor's office last week, after Sam and I split I was swearing to God that I was okay, but nothing lasts forever and as it turns out I've been neglecting myself for so long that something in my head flipped and I found myself panicking with no reason in the middle of the night. Depression. Now here's another word I hate. To cut to the chase, ladose is the solution, one pill every morning and I'll be alright. If I didn't have Susan in my life, I would be living in my apartment, alone with cats, the lazy, crazy, old, cat-lady. The doctor said I should start writing all the things that give me joy, like rainbows, or flowers, as if I'm 15 years old. I made a joke about unicorn's shit and then left. Susan doesn't know anything and I tend to continue like that. I love her, I love her so much that I could die if she asked me to. I don't want her to think that I went crazy now, I know her, she might seem confident and strong but she's a baby, needs a goodnight kiss every night. She even keeps her very first teddy bear in her closet, which I think is cute but I like messing up with her. I don't care losing my mind, but I can't lose her and she's like my kid, I find her watching cat videos on the bed at 2am, laughing. Immediately I'm getting mad at her for waking me but deep inside I'm jealous, jealous of her carelessness, wish I was like her. One day I remember, Hannah read on the news about all the hate towards Susan's face, her political face, people refusing to see her movies, I got scared, imagine if one of them run into her on the street, I couldn't stand the idea of someone hurting her, even if it was just words, and words are hurting you the most, eternal scars in your soul that not even one pill can make the pain go away, so I got dressed as fast as I could and run into her apartment and there she was, taking photos on the balcony, I shouted her name and she looked at me with that stupid smile on her face, making me a sign to shut up and then making me another sign to go to her. I was so confused, she's always on her god damn phone, so I knew she read what they were saying about her but when I got out, I saw a bunch of pigeons eating on top of the table. We stayed there for a few minutes, watching them until I lost my patience and started screaming. "They say birds can cure depression," she said to me "Not when they shit all over your table" I replied. What a fool I was, my baby was right. I could sit for hours, watching the birds, having Susan by my side, holding her hand and playing with her rings, taking them off, one by one and placing them back in the same order as she wears them. No. Birds might cure depression but my depression can get cured by her. Only her. But I'm not letting her see me that way... So, it was Monday..."