Chapter 2: I had been told upon agreeing to come here that I wouldn’t have to go through the painful process of recalling my past, that I wouldn’t be given any special notice, that I would be left alone, not really even seen, if that was how I wanted it. And that was how I wanted it. I wanted to be left the fuck alone. But, since I had gotten here, I had faced nothing but attention, the nagging sensation that I was being watched, and worse, the judging eyes of my peers. I knew they were making postulations as to what was wrong with me. It would have been easier had I not been so self-aware.
It was with these thoughts that laid aside the forms and dug into my bag, searching for my small, pink pill case. I could end it all then if I had had the sense this morning to store the right combination of medication in the container I now held. I was almost positive that I had. I honestly felt that at that moment, anything was better than the haunting memories I harbored. I opened the case, unable to differentiate between the pills. There had to have been nearly thirty in assorted sizes and colors, and I took them all. I sat alone, watching the room go dark around me, waiting for the nothingness that I so craved. Several minutes passed. The room began to close in, then spin, inverting my thoughts and my consciousness, filling me with an eerie peace as my body began to go numb. As strange as it may sound, I have never felt more alive than when I was dying. I felt my life slipping from my grasp, willingly surrendering myself to the cold nothingness that now blurred the edges of my vision. The spider webs of black danced through my eyes as I felt my breath slow, my heart slamming against my chest in irregular patterns. Now beginning to panic, wondering if I had made the right choice, I tried to steady myself, finding that I was no longer able to move, that I was paralyzed. The only thing I was capable of was thought, crystal clear thought. I knew that this was finally the end, and I closed my eyes and waited for death’s cool grips to take the rest of me far away from here. I felt my body begin to convulse just as I lost consciousness.
The pain was excruciating and indelible. It was far more intense than could ever be described by words. If I had ever had any fear that death would be painful, I was reassured that living was far worse. I was still unable to move, but completely aware of every sensation going through my battered body. My labored breathing and aching chest, the pokes of what seemed like hundreds of tiny needles, the soft hum of machines. I attempted to open my eyes for the first time in what felt like years. Everything came slowly into focus, the dim lights causing head to pound.
I heard an unfamiliar voice repeating my name. The realization that I really was still alive hit me, and the depression set in. I employed the luxury of unresponsiveness, finally surrendering myself to the thoughts I had been struggling to suppress.
It was mid-morning on a hazy, early autumn day. My mother had departed for the weekend on a sudden whim of needing freedom; sure she could find it on the coast. I had spent the night stretched out on our back porch watching the stars, breathing in the crisp air. The vivid colors of the season remained visible until far after dark. I had slept that night with a feeling of peace, something that I hadn’t felt in a long time.
Jareth and I had been sitting at my kitchen table when he told me. I had just woken up and made a fresh pot of coffee when he had walked through the door, his hair still sticking up erratically in places from sleep. From the looks of his crumpled Cure tee shirt and boxer shorts, he had been awake about as long as I had.
“I got those test results back yesterday, Lydia,” he said over his coffee cup.
“Mhmm…” I replied, concentrating the majority of my attention on tracing my pinkie finger over his lower lip.
“It looks like I’m not going to be here forever.”
“Who is?” I ignored his first attempt at telling me the truth; not wanting let myself believe that I could be losing him.
The rest of his explanation was lost as I toyed with the ring on his thumb, distracting him from his news. He rose then, leading me from the table, padding on bare feet to my room, where we collapsed into my bed, surrounding ourselves with blankets. With his arms around me, nothing could ever hurt me. I heard him sigh as he drifted off to sleep, his face buried in my hair, his chin against my shoulder. His hands unconsciously stroked my arms as I settled against his chest.
Hours later I awoke to the crashing of thunder and the sound of rain beating hard against my window. The wind was whipping my curtains around, howling as it blew against the branches of our old oak tree, bending them nearly to the ground. I sat watching the storm, sensing the electricity in the air. Looking over at Jareth, I found him sleeping soundly despite the noise. I rose from my blankets, opening the window as far as it would go to be nearer to the storm.
I returned to bed, finding that Jareth had shifted positions, and was now lying on his back. Smiling, I climbed back under the covers, crawling across the sheets, carefully straddling his legs. I laid my palm on his chest, pushing back his tee shirt and exposing the pale flesh beneath. He stirred slightly, then quieted. I lowered my head, kissing a path down his torso to his navel, then back up. After a few minutes, I could feel his breath quicken. He lifted a hand, running it through my hair, tracing the outline of my eyes and lips, as though he was seeing them for the very first time. I kissed him, feeling his velvet skin against mine.
The day was beginning to darken as the storm worsened. I reluctantly crawled out of bed, digging through my desk drawer, looking for my lighter. In the dark of the storm, I found the battered black plastic without even having to turn on a light. I clicked it a couple of times before I got a flame.
“That old thing still works?” Jareth asked, propping himself up on his elbow. He had been with me two years ago, right after I had first met him, when I had bought it in the tiny convenience store on the outskirts of our small town. He had dared me to try to buy it, knowing fully that I wasn’t old enough to do so. I had taken the bet, charming the man behind the counter into selling it to me.
“Yep,” I smiled, lighting a candle on the floor next to the bed. It cast eerie shadows on the walls all around us.
“Dance for me,” he almost whispered when I turned around to put the lighter away, “Please dance for me.”
I glanced back at him. He looked so fragile lying there, wrapped up in my blankets. He had once told me that I never looked freer than when I danced. I had never really danced exclusively for him before. He had caught me a few times when I had thought that I was alone, but I would never let him watch me, afraid of what he might think.
Lightening streaked the sky, and the moment moved me. I began to sway in time to the flashes that creased the atmosphere outside my window. I composed the music in my head as I danced, rhythmically positioning my arms, knowing that my legs would follow suit. It was then that I lost all touch with reality. At that moment the only things that existed in the world were me, the floor, the music, my body, and my mind. A crash of thunder broke the spell, and falling to my knees, I stopped, the music fading away.
I looked up to find Jareth intently watching me, as though I were some very rare and valuable treasure. His expression was so intense. As I stood, I watched him follow the lines of my bare legs to the bottom of my black panties, then up to my black tank top, stopping for a moment at the strip of exposed skin where my underwear ended and my tank top didn’t quite cover.
“My god,” he shook his head, a dazed look upon his face.
A sharp jab to my arm brought the hospital back into focus, my memory of Jareth’s face fading back into the dark void I had once fought to keep it locked in. I squinted my eyes in general disgust at the nurse who was inserting an IV into my tiny arm. She must not have known that I was conscious, I consoled myself, trying to pass off her roughness as confusion rather that personal ignorance. Tears began to run down my face as she continued to stab around with her needle.
The first chapter and the following chapters can be read at http://deademilysgrave.homestead.com/home.html