My parents had stupidly let me have a glass of champagne at midnight. I was twenty-three at the time, but addiction is addiction. I ended up drinking out of the bottle for the remainder of the night. When Isaac rolled in around three o'clock I was drunk and sleepy.
"Happy New Year, my brother!" We both slammed into each other as we haphazardly attempted a drunken hug.
"And to you, too. Why are you still awake? Are Mom and Dad in bed?"
"Everyone's asleep." I slurred. "I can't sleep, so I was just sitting on the couch watching TV and drinking that bottle of champagne."
"Aw, Tay, did you get wasted all alone?" Ike went to the fridge and grabbed a beer. "I'll stay up with you."
"Gimme one. I'm waitin' for Jess. Then maybe I'll go to sleep."
He handed me a beer, and I popped open the cap and took a swig. I was no alcoholic, but I knew if I kept on drinking like this I wouldn't be able to stop. It was just one beer. Then it became another, and then one last one until Isaac and I both dozed off on the chairs in the living room. I vaguely heard the door creek open and slam. I didn't become completely aware of the sound until my arm dropped off of the arm of the chair and I woke up, startled. I felt a bit doozy and still drunk, but I noticed Jessica stumbling around the kitchen and willed myself to get up.
When I entered the room she barely acknowledged me. "Happy New Year." I said. She opened the liquor cabinet and popped open a bottle of Bacardi and began drinking it in rather large gulps. She was hardly present in the room, and looked as if she had been crying.
"Hey, Jess. What's wrong?"
"Wuddint yew like ta know?" She slurred at me. Then she broke down in hysterical tears over the counter.
"Jessica, what's going on?" I said, shaking her and trying to get her to stand up straight. "What happened to you? How much did you drink?"
"I drank." She laughed manically. "After I took three Xanax!" Her cackling growing louder and she took another swig of her Bacardi and dropped the bottle on the floor. "Oops!"
I grabbed her and took her away from the broken glass on the floor. "What'd you take? Are you sure that's all?"
"No I dunno." She shrugged and fell into my arms. "Ricky gave me somethin', but 'e never en-dick-ated wha it was. Uppers er somethin'..."
"Who the hell is Ricky?" Christ. That didn't sound like a good mixture.
"My boyfriend." She hung off of my shoulder. "We fuuucckkeeed tonight."
I struggled to keep her on her feet, it was nearly dead weight. "Jess, I think I need to take you to the hospital."
"Nah, I'm perfectly fine." She said her words slurring together. She pushed me lightly and stumbled to the couch and flopped down on it. "Oh God, this room is spinning."
When I saw her eyes begin to close I shook her. "No, you can't go to sleep." I said. "Jess, come on, get up." She didn't respond, and I began to grow frantic. I shook Isaac awake. "Ike, she's fucked up. We need to take her to the hospital right now!"
I tried to stand her up, but she was passed out at that point, so Isaac helped me carry her into my car. I started the engine and sped down to the hospital.
"What's going on?" Isaac asked once we got in the car.
"She came in all fucked up like that, but she said she took all of these drugs that I'm afraid may be a potentially lethal combination, especially with the alcohol. We have to take her to the emergency room immediately. Try and keep her upright."
Isaac held her steady in the backseat until I pulled into the hospital parking lot, and we carried her into the emergency room, where she was immediately, upon sight, put into intensive care. I watched with horror as they pumped her stomach and she screamed, the sickness all over her shirt. Isaac held my hand tight, I suddenly became aware of how he must have felt when it was me. It wasn't that he hadn't cared, it was just that he didn't know how to react. Who would?
As I watched my sister from the end of the bed I began to feel that she was not human. She was just writhing in pain and sickness from all of the drugs that she had put inside of her body, how could anything like that be real? Or right? How could you put your whole life on the line because you were too careless, or too drunk, or too full of drugs? All my life all I wanted to do was die. But... faced with the uncertainty of life or death, I always lived, why did I live? And yet, now, I was watching my sister through Zac's eyes upon me, and I didn't want her to die. I didn't want her to feel so horrible, or take drugs. I didn't want to watch her become a zombie, a shell of her being, soulless.
We stood by her side until she could rest. Once she drifted off to sleep I began crying, and Isaac brought me into the Men's room, halfway panicking as I walked down the hallway. "Is he okay?" then, "Yeah, he'll be alright. Taylor, It's okay I'm here." When my legs went out from underneath me Isaac kept me standing, leaning against a bathroom stall. I tried to think coherently, but I couldn't. I just felt ill all over. Isaac was trying to talk me out of it, but I couldn't tell if it was working.
"What do I tell Mom and Dad?" I cried, hysterical. "It's all my fault. It's my fault."
"Taylor... it's not your fault. You did what you could. You got her here, didn't you? Now she'll be okay, you saved her life. You did a good deed."
"Red pill, blue pill." I whispered before tearing away from Isaac and pushing my way into a stall to throw up. My throat felt sore, and my skin had unnatural overtones. The light in the room made my eyes look grayer. I hugged my brother when I saw him, and the other men in the bathroom averted their eyes. They all knew who I was, and no one wants to look at a freak.
"Come on." Isaac wrapped his arm around my waist and guided me, still weak on my feet, out of the bathroom. It was like how the Stripe walked me down the hallway when I couldn't do it myself. I was taken back to the long corridors of the LA Psychiatric facilities, an arm around my waist and my knees locked as I shuffled along with them, unable to feel, unable to speak. I felt the vague tug of an IV in my arm as the memory began to fade and realized it was just Isaac, pulling me upright from my slumped position.
"Don't let it roll away." I didn't realize I was speaking until Isaac said something. I vaguely acknowledged him, moving close to his warmth and letting tears slip from my eyes. "I know you're tired, Taylor." A sigh, pain shooting up my legs. "Just a few more steps and I'll carry you back."
"Tay, are you alright?" Isaac's voice, loud and clear. My legs were walking. I looked up at him and nodded.
"Thank you." I said, the memory was gone and I was suddenly aware of myself. "I feel better."
Isaac felt my weight lifting and he let his grip loosen, moving one of his arms up from my waist in order to reach my hair. I closed my eyes at the comforting gesture, someone's hands in my hair, my mother singing to me. "We're almost there." He told me, quietly.
The nurses and doctors shuffled past in every which way. The ones who asked if I was okay were told that I was just upset. Isaac helped me into a chair once we returned to Jessica's room.
"What's wrong?" The nurse in the room asked as I dissolved in tears, and collapsed into the chair. "Is he alright?"
"He's okay, he just had a panic attack, and he's still a little weak." I reached for a tissue, and Isaac quickly changed the subject. "Did the emergency room call my parents?"
Slowly I calmed completely, and the murmur of conversation by the bed next door lulled me to sleep.
It was two days for her recovery, and my Mom was devastated. She cried to my father and moped around whispering under her breath to herself. She had convinced herself that she was at fault and that she should have known enough. But it wasn't her fault. If anyone was to blame it was Jessica, or me. But two days passed quickly, and Jess was home before we knew it. The only thing about coming home was that everyone closed in on her.
Alex and I had planned to leave by the 5th, but Jess, feeling trapped, began to act up. I was surprised that she was so easy to hop back into using, especially after she had just had her stomach pumped, but I recognized the behavior. I told Alex I thought it would be better if I stayed another week to stick onto Jess. She just shrugged and muttered something about how she'd rather stay, and then, "LA sucks."
So that night when I was up late, and I heard her come in the window, I swallowed a Paxil and stood outside her door with my entire stash, plus what we had taken from her, in my hands. It was three in the morning, and if anyone happened to see me, what reason could I give? After I heard her settle on the other side of the door I pushed it open.
"You know, one day it'll all sneak up on you and fuck you up. It'll fuck you up good." My voice broke the silence as I dropped the bag of pills on her desk.
"You giving those back?" I heard her sitting up in bed, the sheets ruffling.
"Fat chance." I said. "We're going to get rid of them. Tonight." I stared into her face. "And I'm going to talk to you about something. Come here." She inched forward in the dark and I grabbed her arm. "Get in the car, we're going."
"It's 3AM."
"So? Let's go." I turned on my heel and was in the driver's seat of my car waiting as she shuffled around the house and eventually joined me in my car. She didn't say anything when I started driving. In silence, we drove until I slowed to pull into a cemetery not too far from where Zac rest.
"This isn't where Zac is buried, you know."
"We're not going to see Zac." I spat. "I know where he's buried."
"So why are we here?"
"You'll see." I said. I pulled the car up onto the snow-covered grass and parked. "Come with me."
The snow crunched under my feet as I lead her through a maze of headstones. I couldn't see anything so I was using my lighter to read the names.
"Didn't you bring a flashlight?"
"Do I look like I have the presence of mind to think of such things?"
"Well..." She started..
"Here." I stopped short in front of a headstone. The roses I had placed there were still resting, in their upside down bundle, against it. They were dead underneath the snow. I pulled tea lights out of my jacket pocket and lit them one by one and set them around and on top of her headstone. Once I was finished I stepped back and bowed my head silently. A short prayer, I wasn't going to let myself wander too far from what I had initially intended to do. Once I was done, I turned and I lay a blanket out over the snow and sat down on top of it motioning for Jessica to join.
"Taylor it's fucking cold out here."
I shrugged. "It's the middle of January. Deal with it."
"Why am I here?"
"Do you know how she died?" I asked. I pulled out a cigarette and offered her one.
Jessica hesitated, waving her hand at my cigarette. She watched the paper burn red in the dark and then stared at the name on the headstone. "She committed suicide. She took pills and cut her throat."
"That's right." I said. "And those fucking pills weren't the only thing she was on. She was a cokehead. And do you know who bought her the coke?"
She looked at me, her eyes were round. I nodded.
"I did." I said. "I bought her all of her drugs when she ran out of money. We got fucked up together almost on a daily basis. It was my fault she was a fucking cocaine addict... she would have never had the money if it weren't for me... and I was just bringing back old habits. You see, before Zac died, I did coke all of the time. And then one day I overdosed... I snorted too fucking much and ate pills until I was in a stupor and couldn't move. Zac dragged me to the hospital, and he sat by my side as they pumped my stomach." I shuddered at the memory. "Then I had to go through detox. You know what they do during detox?"
She shook her head. No.
"You go through all of the withdrawal symptoms. I was pretty fucked up on coke for a pretty long time, so I got it all. I was paranoid, and sick, and trembling, and feverish. Then they start feeding you drugs to 'flush your system.' You puke for, like, three weeks - whether it's from withdrawal or the fucking drugs, I have no idea. They search your house, look for potential hiding places, they search your clothes. They take your things, you know, potential 'paraphernalia.' They fucking took my pencil sharpener as a 'hiding place.'" I sighed and slumped back against the headstone behind me.
"I stopped for a while... you remember. I went to rehab and the whole 9 yards... I didn't touch anything for months, and then Zac died. And then they gave me Valium at the hospital to make me stop screaming. It stopped my screaming, it numbed my whole fucking mind. So I fucking took Valium. I took twice the dosage I was supposed to. I took them before the wake, and before the funeral. Then I started smoking pot again. Then we did acid, then we did ecstasy, then we did everything else until I landed back on the coke.
"Coke is a fucked up drug." I said, "You don't want to do it anymore... you sit there every single fucking day, realizing that you can't live without this fucking white powder... You try to resist it, but life just cannot go on if you don't do one more line. Just one more, and every time is just one more time. It feels so good for a minute, then the feeling fades. Then you start doing it just to feel normal, because you're so fucking depressed and irritable the rest of the time...
"I stopped doing coke after she died, pretty much. I didn't really want to do much of anything except the Valium because it made me go to sleep. There was that three-week window where I had stopped doing the cocaine. But I didn't talk to anyone, or eat. Then I found some more coke, and I did that, and the next time I woke up I was in the fucking mental hospital. They tried to make me gain weight because I was so severely underweight. But I didn't care. I didn't fucking talk to anyone there, and I gagged myself anyway. The bathroom monitor didn't even try to stop me - there was no use after it had started. And then the next thing I knew I collapsed.
"I couldn't support my own weight, I tried and tried to stand up, but I couldn't and I fainted. They brought me to intensive care where they stuck tubes in my arms that fed me, because I couldn't process real food. I was there for a week before I could even get out of bed. I had to relearn to walk, and as soon as I could eat solid food, they spoon-fed me.
"Half of the first few weeks I was there were spent dealing with my withdrawal from the Valium and whatever else I had in my system, and the other half was spent trying to get me to gain weight... just enough weight so that I could stay alive. I was so close to dying. So fucking close."
Jessica nodded along with my story, but once I had finished didn't have anything to say. So I asked her. "Why do you think I would take you all of the way out here to tell you this at three o'clock in the morning?"
"Because you want me to stop..."
"Right." I said. "And are you going to?" She started crying and I wrapped my arms around her, allowing her to cry on my shoulder. "Jess, please. You don't even understand how important this is... you won't, not yet. I've been fighting with addiction since I was seventeen. Six years, Jess."
"Tay..." A whirlwind of unspoken emotions rushed through us. I felt a cold chill in my spine, and we clung closer together. The walls came crashing down, and I began to cry with her.
"Jess, you have to promise me, and I promise you I'll always be there."
"It's too fucking much." She sobbed, "Everything. Everything in these past two years has just been horrible. Zac dying, Mom and Dad going crazy, you going crazy, Isaac and you not talking. It's horrible. Avery doesn't even want to talk to me most of the time." She choked, and buried her face in my jacket.
"Do you want to stop?"
"Yes, oh God, I want to stop so bad."
"I will help you." I said, "I will. I promise."
She nodded. I grabbed the bag I had full of pills and I held it out in front of us. "I think we both have something to do."
Jessica went to the car before I did. I told her I wanted some time alone to say a prayer, but she had barely rounded the corner before I started hysterically crying. She didn't even turn her head when I returned to the car with locks of hair in my hands.
"So how'd your prayer go?" She asked to fill the space on the ride home.
"Better than the last few." I said, softly.
That night we stood over the toilet in the hallway and dumped all of the pills into the bowl and flushed. She started crying again and clung to my shirt as I dragged her back to her bedroom. "Rest," I said. "Rest, it'll all pan out. I promise you, you aren't alone. I'll even call a doctor for you if you need one, alright?"
She nodded and we embraced before I turned out the light. I walked back to my room, but barely touched the knob before I turned and stood outside of a door down the hall. I listened, and heard no sound but the soft and heavy breathing of my parents on the other side. I opened the door and stood in the doorway, the light of the hall flooding in on the bed. They didn't even notice. I closed the door quietly and knelt down beside my mother.
"Mom." I whispered. She didn't respond, just shifted. "Mom." I shook her.
She groaned and I imagined her eyes fluttering. "Who is it? Taylor?"
I was shaky and timid to ask. "Could I sleep with you tonight?" I needed her. I needed her badly.
She shifted, and in the soft glow of the nightlight I saw her turn and face my Dad who was still unmoved on the other side of the bed. "Tay, you're 23 years old!" She pointed out, "And you have a fiancée, and..." She hesitated. "Alright, fine." She lifted the sheets and scooted over to the empty space in the center of the bed to make room for me.
"You're cold, Taylor." She said as I settled in next to her.
"That's because I just got in bed."
"Don't you think you're a bit old for this?"
I did, but I couldn't think of anything else I could do that would bring me any comfort. I wrapped my arm around her, without saying a word, and began to cry.
"Honey, what's wrong?"
"Long night." I responded. I needed her warmth. "I just need you right now. This week has been so rough."
"Oh, baby..." She ran her hands through my hair. "Can't you talk to Alex? Are you having trouble sleeping again?"
I shook my head. "No. I need you. I just need you." I pressed my face into her chest. "I just want to be a part of you, again. You're so warm and wonderful." My want for her at that moment was the equivalent of a young child's need for his or her mother when they are tired or hungry or hurt. All while I was growing up, my mother and I connected on levels that no other member of the family, including my Dad, could. My mother was this essential part of my sanity, she kept my constant roller coaster of emotions at bay when I felt I couldn't be controlled any longer. I never once doubted her love, not even when I was convinced that everyone had turned their back to me. My mother made me feel alright when no one else could, she had hands that could heal anything. I hoped her hands in my hair would heal my mind.
"Your hair is damp." She pointed out.
"It's snowing outside." I said, softly.
"Outside? Were you outside?"
"Ma," I whispered, as if I had a secret I was embarrassed by admitting. My voice was small and hesitant. "I took Jess to the cemetery."
"Jessica? Why?"
"I took her to see Annissa." I specified.
"At four AM?"
"I had something important to tell her." She was listening, I went on... "It's really important Ma, alright? Jess promised me she would stop taking drugs, and I promised that I would help her and support her, I've been through it before. We all need to be supportive but non-oppressive. It's absolutely essential."
I could hear my Mom crying. "Where did I go wrong?"
"Mom," I stroked my fingers on her cheeks, smearing tears along the way, "You didn't do a thing, it's just time, and situation. I promised I would get her professional help if she needed it. Please don't cry." I pulled her into me, breathing in her familiar scent. After all of these years it was still true that I came home solely for my mother's care. I guess everyone has a soft spot for being a child again, if only for a few minutes, cradled soft in your mother's arms, holding true to the belief that, there, nothing could hurt you. My mother made me feel safe, and, even, perfect.
"Oh God, Taylor. It's just so much. I'm losing you guys." She sniffed. "Zac's gone, Isaac's going, you're gone, Jess is going, and I feel like even the younger ones are drifting away from me. I'm so isolated and I can't do anything about it. I love you so much."
"Ma, you're not losing me, you're not losing any of us. I love you too, I love you. Everything's just gotten really, really, screwed up. It'll change. We're working on patching up the holes in the roof. It's just time, Ma. We all want it to be better again, so it will be, alright? You're perfect, you're the best Mom."
"I can't stop thinking about the day Isaac called me and told me you were in the hospital. You hadn't even spoken a word to us since the night Annissa died, and, you were so thin and sad. I thought you wouldn't make it. I thought I might lose you - the best thing I ever did, Taylor, you were. I kept thinking, 'Why did this happen?' and 'How come I can't fix it?' I tried so hard to get through to you when you were home, but you were just, completely gone. I..." She took a deep breath, sobbing hard, "I was so torn. I thought you'd never be the same again. Maybe you'd never speak again.
"But then, you called me on the phone, and I heard your voice, and you were crying, and you sang to me - and then I knew you'd be okay. And you are okay. You... you have no idea what that means to me."
I shook my head, "I don't know why." I said softly, "I put you through so much pain, I should have finished what I started." I sputtered, "It wasn't fair, and you still loved me. Dad hated me, but you still loved me." I clenched the sheets in my fists. "Mom, I'm so worried about Jessica, and Theo, and... everything. I'll never be able to be a good father, I'm not even a good older brother!" The sobs wracked up inside of me, and I couldn't do anything but sputter and sniffle.
"Tay, you've got so much ahead of you. I love you, you know, regardless of everything. You've given me, us, the most incredible lives - you're so talented, smart, and wonderful." She laughed, "We're lucky to have such great children. Having this family was the best thing I've ever done - you are the light of my life. You're a wonderful father to Theo, I've watched you. You love Theo with all of your heart, I can see it in your eyes. You're changing, you know, you're becoming a real Dad." She wiped a tear from her eyes and I heard her chuckle, her laughter filled with tears. "I can't believe how fast ya'll are growing up. Now... now you're getting married, and you're going to make me beautiful grandchildren. Life isn't over yet, Tay. Life is long, and you're doing a good job." She hugged me and kissed my cheek. "We all make mistakes." The tears were flowing but I was no longer sobbing. I closed my eyes and leant in closer to her. My mother always made everything make so much sense. She took my pain and turned it into love, and I wished for my whole life that I could have that talent.
"Thank you." I whispered in her ear, and we dozed off together, not too long before the sunrise.