Howling

A Change And A Realization

The cold creped up into my hands from the marble sink. My grip had turned my knuckles white as I stared down my bloodshot reflection in the small bathroom mirror. It was only the night after he died. Sleep wasn't kind enough to come.

Tears began stinging my eyes as my throat began to close up. He wouldn't leave my thoughts. The picture of him lifeless in his recovery bed, surrounded by people who, it turned out, couldn't help him.

I allowed myself to cry, sitting on the toilet lid for a good half hour before calming down. My chest and throat felt dreadful.

I had no idea how long I'd been whispering his name to myself, scared to forget or willing him to appear in the room, just so I could talk to him again.

The hollow ache of grief didn't leave me alone in the days to come. The next few weeks passed in a blur of arrangements, black contrasted with beautiful flowers and endless fan letters, all expressing grief and support.

We'd all agreed that the tour would be cancelled, to give each of us time to heal. We'd find another guitarist sure, possibly bond with them, they become family. But god, they wouldn't be Seth and everyone knew it.

Just another nightmare.

***

Bwrrrrrrrrrr. Bwrrrrrrrrrr. Bwrrrrrrrrrr.

A groan crawled out of my mouth into the comforter I was bundled up in. What could anyone possibly want with me today?

Cool air met my hand as I felt around for my phone, finally finding it.

"Hello," I spoke into the phone, trying to sound more awake.

"Hey Jen, what's going on today," inquired Korey's voice from the other end. Had she been crying?

Worry took root in my chest, "Nothing, again. What about you?"

"Can we talk? I...I genuinely don't know who else to go to for this."

My eyebrow raised slightly as my mind went over what she'd possibly want to discuss at three in the morning. Not that sleep came for me at night anymore.

"Do you wanna come over to my place," I questioned, throwing on my shirt and a pair of athletic shorts after flicking on the small lamp in my room.

Rain battered onto my house roof, some leaking into a small bucket I'd placed in the room. Thunder rumbled, making me wonder for a moment if God, with all his might and power, got hungry on occasion after all.

The coffee pot was bubbling amiably away, the kitchen bright and way more cheery than I felt at the moment. Wallpaper, half torn off the wall, still lit up the room in all its baby blue glory with the light.

Aimlessly, I flipped through a random magazine that had been sitting on the table.

A few soft taps sounded on the screen door, one I never thought I'd answer so fast.

There stood Korey, her lip trembling slightly as her tear-soaked eyes met mine. My fingers closed around her hand as I pulled her inside, shutting and locking the doors behind her.

She eased into her chair, thanking me in a shaken voice for the mug of coffee that she wrapped her hands around.

We sat in silence for awhile, although I was dying to ask what was going on. I'd never, and I mean never, seen her this destroyed.

"I don't think I've been here since you moved in," she commented, taking in her surroundings. I blushed a little and looked into my mug of coffee as I stirred cream in.

"I do apologize for the mess."

"No, no please don't," she responded, smiling in spite of herself. Her gorgeous blue eyes, exhausted and sad, still held a sparkle in them.

My heart softened as our eyes met. We fell silent again, this time her looking away.

"We're getting a divorce," she finally confided, her voice trembling softly.

"What...what do you mean divorce," I asked, fully aware that I sounded dumb. They were leaving each other, what else could it possibly mean?

Korey leaned back in her chair, her hands going to her face as she choked up. Silently, I rested my spoon on the edge of my mug.

"How are you feeling about this," I asked softly, leaning over and gathering her in my arms, her head resting on my chest.

My heart broke, feeling her sobs in my own body as she nodded yes.

"I can't do it anymore Jen," she whined, "I can't keep hoping he'll maintain control all the time. I can't keep letting the moons roll around and praying he remembers. I can't do it anymore."

She sniffled, her eyes closing as I gently stroked her purple hair.

"C'mon," I whispered, softly wiping her eyeshadow-stained tears away from her eyes with my thumb, "You can crash here tonight if you want."

She nodded, a soft smile taking shape on her bare lips as I let her go, "Thank you, Jen."

We chatted away for at least an hour after that, what about I couldn't remember for the life of me next day. No, what I remembered was the thumping in my chest the entire time, how it felt like my own heart was trying to burst out of my ribcage. The warmth from her upper body, still there long after she'd withdrawn; the slightly smudged makeup underneath her eyes, highlighting the sparkle within them.

Even long after we said goodnight, I found myself trying, with little avail, to calm myself. My mind filled and churned with all kinds of thoughts, moreso about her than anything else.

It's a sin, how this feels is a sin, I think I like her, this is not good.

I couldn't pray or sleep that night. Morning was only brought to my attention by the slow dawning of the sun amidst a semi-cloudy sky. Aches from laying in a sleeping bag all night had long settled into my muscles, which I did my best to ignore as I watched the golden-red sunbeams come through the window.

I glanced up at my bed real quick, Korey's hair splayed out on the pillow, blankets covering the rest of her. Quietly, I unzipped my sleeping bag and slipped out of the bedroom, letting her sleep for the next few hours.

Coffee sounded particularly good to me, even though I wasn't remotely feeling tired. Hoping I had enough for a full pot, I wrestled the large can of coffee open, only to find maybe half a pots worth in there. Dammit. 

The store is just down the street, thank goodness, maybe I can go get another can and come back in time for Korey to wake up. 

Quickly, I grabbed a scrap of paper from one of my failed sketches and a pen, scribbling a note for her in case she woke up to an empty house. I laid it gently beside the coffee maker before slipping a light jacket on and stepping out into the rising sun.