Maybe one day I’ll have the courage to make it permanent. Not today though. Not on purpose at least, because today I know she’s still out there somewhere, keeping me tied to this misery simply by existing.
Ainsley…
Chapter Twenty-One
Ainsley James Dylan
“I’mworkingthelunchshift today. I don’t have much longer before I have to get ready,” I tell them quietly, looking at the large clock on my living room wall. I’ve sat here staring at it with each shift of the hands, imagining the sounds it would make if it were an old fashioned timepiece. The tick, tick, ticking sounds off in my head even though there’s no real noise coming from the clock. It tells time accurately, but it’s definitely more of a statement piece than anything.
It feels like I’m confessing a sin to a priest rather than informing two men that my time is running short. My limbs feel heavy and weak, acid burns strongly in my stomach and I want to pretend I have no idea why I’m having such a visceral reaction.
It’s guilt. It’s always guilt…
I’m torn between not wanting to hear any more of what they’ve got to say and clinging to every word that passes their lips because apparently some part of me is masochistic and needs to hear every bit of suffering they’ve endured since the day I left them behind. I need to feel it too. I deserve to feel it too, even more harshly than they had.
My whole body is stiff, that gross needle prick sensation making me want to claw my skin from my bones, my eyes are puffy and swollen after what feels like days of crying, yet they’ve remained bone dry through every story they’ve told so far. It’s like my body’s punishing itself by withholding the ability to fall apart. Or maybe it’s my mind doing the punishing for causing so much damage to these beautiful men’s souls.
The anguish in Phoenix and Ezra’s voices as they recant their separation from each other, the isolation they’ve lived in all this time. Carefully, they only talk about their own personal narratives, not letting on anything about the boys who aren’t here.
I’ve learned about their addictions, the self-harm, and that Ezra was the last of the two to get clean after a harsh dose of reality. Apparently he’d overdosed on the exact day that Phoenix was meant to celebrate his first year of sobriety. I can’t even stand to look at them for fear the guilt will consume me entirely. Years they’d been dealing with so much emptiness inside their souls, just the same as me. Except where I did everything I could to use making others happy as an excuse to mask everything, they internalized it all and were literally killing themselves.
“We’ll make the next part of the story fast. I promise,” Ezra says soothingly, but nothing can eradicate the eternal scarring of my heart and soul. I nod to keep from responding, unsure of how my voice will sound.
“Yeah, um, so we all met up at E’s house after we got the message from Cyan that something bad was going down. I’d thought to grab some Narcan from my house before I left thankfully, because by the time we’d made it there it was clear that he needed help.”
“Why’d you have Narcan if you’d already cleaned out your stashes?” I ask, sounding a little robotic as I try to keep my feelings at bay.
“Once an addict, always an addict. Or at least that’s what they say. I kept it around in case I ever relapsed. I didn’t, by the way. Still haven’t, and don’t intend to. Drugs were more of a recreational thing for me. I relied heavier on alcohol, cutting, and… sex,” I can see the wince out of my peripheral vision when he says the word ‘sex’. As if it pains him to admit he’s had relations with others and doesn’t want me to know it happened.
“You don’t have to worry. I’m not upset that you have a past, Nix.” I try to smile, but it’s forced and ugly. My coping mechanisms aren’t working and trying to hold everything back is starting to take its toll.
“And you don’t have to hide your feelings. You deserve as much as anyone to let them be free.” Ezra tells me, reading me like a book.
“I’ll be okay, just keep telling me what happened, yeah?”
“Sure. So, we used the Narcan on him and got him down to Dexter’s SUV. We’d all decided to get him to a hospital instead of leaving things to chance, only we never made it that far.”
“Well, we did, only none of us were conscious for the ride.” Ezra cuts in. “Apparently, we were hit by a car head on. I’d been unconscious already, obviously. So I was in the back along with Rebel and Phoenix. Dex was driving and Cyan was in the passenger seat.”
“We found out later that the driver of the car had drunkenly driven into oncoming traffic. She was killed on impact, and we miraculously all survived. Not without lasting scars though, mentally and physically. Had the EMT’s been even a few minutes later and Dex wouldn’t have survived. He was bleeding out from the impact of the car. Cyan got a few gnarly gashes on his face and arms. And the rest of us had major whiplash and concussions. Thankfully, we’d been smart enough to buckle Ezra in,” Phoenix says, finishing the story.
I can’t breathe.
My heart is beating too fast.
Vomit is making its way up my esophagus.
Everything is getting blurry.
Oh fuck, here we go again.
I’m going to pass out.
***
I wake with a start, huddled up somehow in the laps of both Ezra and Phoenix. Sobs immediately wracking my body when I think of everything I just learned. They could have died. Someonediddie. They could have died and I’d have lost them forever without even getting the chance to say I’m sorry.
“I’m so fucking sorry,” I ugly cry into their shoulders, completely unable to stop it from happening.
