In my dream she healed me with her hands on my skin. I filled in all over and became whole. Her touch sent shivers and fireworks all over my body - if it were real, I'd probably say that it was the best sex I ever had. Unfortunately it wasn't, and I was left here, wet, sticky, naked and empty.
I pulled on my boxer shorts and made a trek out to the kitchen - where a glass of water was filled then poured down my throat, as if watering my soul. My soul these days seemed to be squeezed dry, crinkled up into a little ball of what once was, like a raisin or a prune. My body seemed to be the perfect reflection of this - A pile of bones that once filled a space to be me.
That's what it was. That's where the problem came from. I was outwardly as empty as I was inwardly.
But it was odd, because that morning I was hungry. Ravenously hungry. I didn't think about getting dressed or showering - I just started cooking... and eating. It was as if I needed something to fill the space - I was yearning for it, hoping the food would bring me the fulfillment I needed.
I ate. I ate what seemed like my body weight in macaroni and cheese. Why was that nasty orange stuff the only thing I could cook? This frustrated me, but I was too hungry to bother with recipes. I wanted Isaac to watch me eat - see how healthy I had become overnight. I had a real live wet dream and now... food! These normal, healthy things were occurring. I was a normal, healthy person.
I wondered if I should put a shirt on before I decided to 'prove my health.' Baring my ribs and scar tissue wouldn't make a good argument. But Isaac never emerged from his room. In fact, he wasn't even there when I opened the door to check for him. I panicked for a second then I heard some weak cries coming from a room down the hall.
Two doors down, beyond the bathroom, was Zac's room. I approached the closed door, and listened softly to someone sobbing on the other side. A sudden overwhelming feeling of emptiness washed over me - knowing it wasn't Zac behind those doors. Some days his absence made me feel worthless and incomplete.
I opened the door and saw Isaac curled up in Zac's sheets - sobbing. Zac's room had been left exactly as it was before we returned to Tulsa for the holidays. His CD player was still on, but I didn't feel the need to turn it off - it had been on for at least five months now. Why bother?
I remembered a time when Zac was curled up in those sheets, sobbing. He told me then to leave him alone - that it's nothing. And I did. He gave his pillow all of his tears, and I thought then - it's okay, we all need to cry sometimes. It's okay, he's stressed out... It's okay. But it wasn't, because at that time it was me. It was always me... One self-destructive habit after another. That time was similar to this time in too many ways.
Isaac raised his face to me, the sunlight catching on his face, sneaking in through the curtains. His eyes pierced me and I suddenly realized how little clothing I was wearing. I self-consciously crossed my arms over my body, and he began to sob harder into his pillow at the sight of me. I dropped my eyes to the floor. It was a painful thing for me to see Isaac like this - so deeply hurt - by me. So hurt he doesn't care, so upset he didn't feel like hiding - because I'd never seen Isaac really cry. He's my brother and I'd never seen him break... not until Zac died.
Even then, he tried to pretend it didn't bother him and that he could move on. But every morning he cried in the shower and every day from sunrise to sunset he played - obsessively. His hands were blistered and I had a feeling there was a lot I didn't see. A lot I didn't know about Isaac, these days. I kept feeling that we didn't quite know each other like we used to.
Weren't we supposed to grow closer? Don't traumatic situations cause you to grow closer to your loved ones? Cling to them for support? I was confused. Maybe it was me. Well... it was probably me.
I stood for a moment, and watched him cry. I didn't offer any comfort - because I knew it was me. What was a skeleton for comfort, anyway? My heart was filled with emptiness. My skin was filled with bones and hollowed out parts.
I crawled to his bedside when the sobs grew to gasping hysterical cries. I couldn't quite think of words that were soothing, so I remained silent. He sat up and turned to me and I stood up and grasped him in a hug. I needed to be held so bad, and his teardrops were falling faster.
He was pushing me back, though, "Taylor, please, I'm fine. I don't want to see you right now."
I creased my eyebrows, "Are you alright? What's wrong?"
He didn't reply to me, but he remained in my arms, hanging in a helpless hysterical heap. I stroked his hair, like Mom would have done, "I know you don't want to see me. I'm not the most pleasant thing to look at, I'm sorry."
"I'm so scared, Taylor. I don't know what to do anymore. Everything's falling apart."
"What's falling apart?" I asked, even though I knew the answer, and to my surprise he answered it, to my face.
"You... us... everything." He whimpered, "How...how can we sustain what we have left when you won't even use your voice? You... you're the one who keeps it all together! And now - now you smoke, and you hardly... you hardly even talk! I haven't heard you sing for months... besides last night."
"I sang last night?" I asked, somewhat puzzled.
"Yeah," He said, wiping his tears and sniffling. He reminded me of a kid right then. "I didn't recognize it... maybe you were just making it up... but I don't think so. It was something about a cliff... and..."
I cut him off, "Stop." I didn't want to hear the words. "I know... I know what it is."
He didn't ask what it was, obviously sensing my hostility. Instead he lay down, calmer now, and hummed into the pillow, "I miss your voice, Tay. I miss the days when you were happy... and you used it. You have power that I'll never achieve and you're throwing it away by not using it. Not everyone is born with a voice like yours, and you should know that."
"I don't have the heart, anymore."
He looked so hurt, so wounded, that I wanted to belt something out right then, but I was restricted. My voice was caught in my throat, and no tunes were willing their way out. "You don't have the heart to sing?" He asked, almost bewildered.
"What songs do I have?" I sighed, softly, "The few things that are beautiful left in my life are being over shadowed and... and... MURDERED. Flowers covered in ashes."
"Every song," he tried to reassure me, "Every song is yours. All you need is your voice... all I need is your voice to know you are okay."
I sat down on the edge of the bed. "I sang to her."
"Her?"
"Annissa." I said, my voice barely audible. It was the first time I spoke her full name since the day she died. "We used to sing along to all of the music we played on the stereo... and she sang that song to me. The one about the cliff. That was her favorite song."
"Oh." He said softly.
"I sang to her before we went to sleep at night." I recalled, "She's the one who really... She helped me start to heal, and play again."
Isaac turned over on his back and looked up at me, curiously, and daring to ask again as he had tried and tried again. "What happened?"
"What happened when?"
"When she died, why... Why did she do it?"
My muscles grew tight, but I took in a deep breath. I could feel comfortable, Isaac was my brother. "Her father... and... I... I'm not sure. She... she thought I hated her... because of her father. I..." I didn't bother going on. I decided to bypass the triggers and thought about Zac instead.
"What did her father do?"
"He beat her. It was my fault... I took her home every day, and I never wanted to... I told her to get away, to stay with me - but she said he needed her. I don't understand it."
"Tay, you couldn't control what he did to her... it wasn't your fault."
"I could have tried harder to stop it... I could... I could have made her come run away with me... where we'd be happy..."
"Maybe you couldn't have stopped it, maybe it was just meant to be."
My heart broke, "How could something like that be meant to be? How fucked up is this world?"
He sat up and put his hand on my shoulder, "Tay, she obviously didn't want to comply to your suggestions, for whatever reasons she had. It wasn't your fault... nothing that happened was your fault."
I shook my head, "It was... it was... she took the blows for me. I tried to save her but... I tried to save her but... I... The last time I talked to her I was afraid he might kill her... I guess he did, in a twisted sort of way."
"What happened then? Why wouldn't she call you?"
I sighed, "I went in, and he was hitting her... like... really badly. I ran over and I knocked him off of her - he was drunk you see, so it was easier. Then we got in... something of a bad situation, and ended up fleeing the premise. I returned her home later that night, and all I could think about when she wasn't returning my calls was 'Is she okay? Is she okay?'"
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Why would I? I didn't think anything was really wrong then. I didn't think she really thought I didn't want to see her. I didn't think."
"Tay, I'm really sorry..." He said, "I don't know what else to say. I hate to see you hurt like this so much."
"I'm okay, right now."
"Did you...see her?"
I nodded my head, "I was the one that found her. I made the call."
He seemed surprised by this news, "How come no one told me?"
"I thought they did..."
"The newspapers were just rambling on about your intimate relationship with her, and the guy at the hospital told me that you just found out your friend died, so you were upset. No one told me you were...there. I... I... I thought you were sent there because you were going crazy... I mean..."
"I know..." I said, "I should have told you."
"I... I've been so caught up in everything that I haven't even been paying attention, I bet someone told me at some point... but I just didn't think about it. God, I'm so sorry."
"It's not that big of a deal..."
"Yes, it is... Tay. You... you loved her. You... you witnessed her suicide."
I shook my head, "Ike... I don't want to talk about this anymore." I was beginning to feel nauseous.
He nodded, "I'm just... looking out for you, alright? I don't like to see your ribs."
I lay down on the sheets and he curled up beside me. "I'm sorry." I whispered and he wrapped his arms around my body leaning his face against my shoulder.
"I don't know what to do," He told me for the second time that day. And I admitted my defeat.
"Neither do I."
Everyday I'm waking up to you,
Every time I see your face I'm feeling something true.
And since we gave up drugs and started drinking I feel new.
I think I learned to love because of you.
Everyday I'm waking up to you,
I can't believe you love me after how I treated you.
The government is evil but I won't let them hurt you.
This double bubble plastic wrap will save you.
And, oh , the cruel north winds aren't meant to be here,
And all the queasiness within shows you I'm sincere.
Let the bleeding liberal hearts drown in all their sorrow.
I'll love you hard until tomorrow.
Everyday you're waking up to me,
Love me quick with slutty lips but let my conscience be,
When we're rich and famous we won't have our privacy,
I'm waking up to you can't you see.
-Hefner "Waking up to you."