No Way Out

Chapter 17 - Dead

Amy --->

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I went home that evening feeling rather empty.

I suppose the emptiness is the longing for actual emotions. But then again, I don’t want them. So maybe it was… guilt?

I lied. I know. I lied to Sebb, but what else could I have done? He wants so badly for me to heal and I… I just don’t want to. I don’t know, actually. I don’t know what I want. I know that I have to tell him eventually, but I also know that I don’t want to. I have barely given this whole ‘healing’ thing a chance, so it’s not a good idea to give up so soon but… I don’t want to heal that’s for sure.

Well then, what’s holding you back?

The comfort of having friends again, the relaxed feeling around Stella and Amy’s cheerfulness… and the soft embrace of Sebb is what’s holding me back I guess. I like the fact that Sebb thinks about me.

I don’t like him though. I mean, how could I? We’re in two different worlds; while he’s happy-go-lucky, I’m not even a quarter of that. Maybe negative five hundred. He’d probably prefer to spend his time with friends and going karaoke or partying like last night, while I’d want nothing more than drink till the early hours of tomorrow and smoking whatever life has to offer. Well by life, I mean Jess. A bar or club where no one knows me, or a cave where no one can find me, is what I prefer to partying or singing in a small room that is paid by the hour with a room full of people that I’d carry on seeing for the rest of the year or even bump into at malls.

I just don’t want to hate or leave behind everything that I used love and enjoy, the life that I had built up is too much to just leave in dust. It was difficult to build, and I’m sure it won’t be easy the second time.

If I heal, and everything turns out fine… well that’s all good and well but then I become normal again. And normal is so tedious, so depressing and most of all – vulnerable. I’ll be able to be hurt again. I much prefer right now, it’s me that can be the only one hurting and since I can’t – more like don’t know how to – feel pain and hurt anymore, well then it’s not so bad.

I shake the thoughts out my head.

Too much thinking for me, it hurts my head.

I drop the keys on the kitchen island counter and open the fridge. Empty. As usual. I open the cupboard and take out the Jack Daniels since the Smirnoff was finished. I contemplate on whether or not to take a glass with me.

I got my answer when my arms instinctively opened the bottle with a crack, and put the cool, glass tip on my lips. The bitter and burning taste was no longer a taste that would have once made me gag. It was more of a comforting taste that reminded me of reality; bitter, horrible and no one can deal with too much of it.

I shrug my coat off and shed it on the couch as I kick off my shoes, one heel at a time, on the way to my room. I kneel down, set the bottle next to me as I rummage through my bookcase.

Tolstoy. Dickens. Austen. Ah! Shakespeare.

Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou? Ah there you are, hiding from me. You sneaky thing.

I take out Romeo & Juliet and open the book. In the middle, all the pages are cut out and there sits a small, silver, metal case. No larger than maybe a cigarette box but thinner by a fifth.

I smile to myself; I still remember where I hid it all these years.

I pull my tired and worn out self up, with the metal case and the Jack Daniels to the bathroom. I close the door and strip off my clothes as I turn on the tap for the bathtub. I put the Bath Table over it and set the case and bottle on it. It’s such a fancy name for just a thick plank of wood that is long enough to sit over the bath for you to put futile objects on. Who even reads or writes notes while laying in a bath? You relax while taking a bath - point of a bath.