“What was that?” Auden finally asks, his words shaking.
“Don’t open the door!”
“What?” He gasps, and I can hear him trying to break in. “Why? I can’t just stand here, Shade.” He’s hitting the door with something. “Rhya! Let me in!”
“Goddamn it, Auden! Don’t open the fucking door!” I roar, my ears ringing, the sound pounds in my ears, like I heard it again, only I didn’t. It’s my mind replaying the sound. “Call 911. I know what she did.”
He’s crying now. He knows, too. “I don’t know. . . . I don’t. . . . Ishouldgo in there. What if there’s someone in there with her? What if it wasn’t what we think?”
“You know goddamn well what that was!” I scream. And though I’m upset, I have no tears. I have no. . . no reactions of any kind. Numbness, maybe. “I’m telling you, Auden. You don’t want to go in there. Just call 911.”
“I have to see if she’s okay.”
“She’snot. You and I both know what that sound was. Call 911 and tell them you heard a gunshot inside her apartment.”
He waits. Seconds. Maybe a minute, I don’t even know how long because time is no longer relevant. It’s non-existent, but it’s present whether I acknowledge it or not. “Okay, I. . . uh. . . I’ll call you back in a minute.”
God, Rhya, what have you done?
I drop my phone to the floor. I inhale deeply and my chest expands. I push the breath out. My stomach pulls in, wanting to rid my body of everything. Food. Her. Thoughts, Emotions. Pain. Regret. . . everygoddamnthing she’s done to me over the years. I want it all gone.
Fuck her.
Jesus Christ. . . how could she?
Why Rhya? Why did you fucking do it?
At 9:32 p.m. my phone rings. I let out a quivering breath and close my eyes, my shaking finger swiping over the screen.
“Shade. . . I just. . . . I can’t even process what I’m seeing. Jesus there is so much blood. Why does there have to be so much blood?” Voices shout around him telling him to get back, but I know he doesn’t. I can, in that very second without being there, imagine exactly what he’s seeing.
Rhya.
Dead.
The color in my face. . . gone. My expression blank, my body and mind exhausted, but it’s like I’ve hit a red line, revved too far for too long. “Auden,” I yell, attempting to gain his attention as he argues with someone on the other end. “Fucking calm down and tell me what’s going on!”
“She’s fucking dead, man,” he spits out between tears. “She’s fuckingdead. Shot herself in the head. The police are in there now but fuck, man, there’s blood everywhere. I don’t know what to do!”
Have you ever had a moment where the world stops? It does for me.
I can’t speak. This feeling is new to me. I was too young to know anything when my mom left. When my dad died, I remembered that horrendous heart-wrenching, soul-crushing weight on my chest knowing my hero was gone. And I was only four, but I still remember.
This though, Rhya. . . it’s different.Shewas different. Our relationship, different.
“I knew this day was coming but fuck, man, this is brutal,” Auden cries, choking on his tears and words.
I swallow through the burn in my throat. I want fresh air. I want to feel the outside air on my face, but no windows in the suite open and I’m trapped in my own dark mind.
“Are you okay?” he asks timidly, knowing the answer.
I hunch over, my hand on my knee for support. I breathe in as fully as possible and then hold it. And release.
Breathe.
Then hold.
Release.
