So, this will be the last chapter told in Shelby's P.O.V. before it jumps to the future, and after that, it will be Noah's turn for a focus-chapter. This chapter is going to kind of start exploring the depths of Rachel and Noah's relationship, but I promise that it will get more deep with time, this whole beginning sequence is just for the sake of background information.
As always, thank you all for the kindness in regards to this story, you're all amazing.
Shelby Corcoran – December, 2000
(Part III)
She has never experienced a silence quite like that which dwells around her throughout the entirety of the car ride back home. It's thick, impossibly heavy, and it swelters all around her in a manner that makes it appear as if even the traffic that is currently flying past them at double the speed, is doing so in a complete, and absolute quiet.
She is just starting to convince herself that all of the pressure that has been building up between her ears in these past couple of hours has finally expanded to the point that it has rendered her completely and utterly deaf when she hears Noah release a tiny groan of disappointment from within his booster seat behind her; the tiny army man that he has been playing with slipping through his fingers so that although he makes a quick swipe to grab at it before it succumbs to its final plunge just beyond his reach, he misses by mere hairs.
Immediately, Shelby thinks of Rachel, of how she, as Noah had done, allowed something to slip just past her own grasp – missing her daughter by mere hairs.
Shelby's eyes dance across the rearview mirror, lingering on her son as he reaches desperately for his figurine, but it's no use – he's not even close – it has landed much too far to his right, directly in front of Rachel's empty car seat where it serves Shelby as a rude reminder towards the idea that their small family would be returning from Lima Memorial Hospital tonight, one member short.
Her heart clenches involuntarily as she envisions her baby, currently lying in surgery; doctor's utilizing her sedation in order to suck the marrow straight from her hipbone with a needle that was roughly the size of Shelby's arm…
"Shelby…" She only vaguely registers Hiram's voice beside her, but her mind has already wandered much too far to render a response; her breath is hitched much too far upwards within her throat as she pictures her child inside of that operating theater alone and vulnerable to so much as consider speech.
"Shelby!" He calls for her once more, but this time, his voice is harsh, abrupt; it forces her eyes from the diluted image in her rearview mirror and back towards the windshield, more specifically, the image of her car skirting at sixty miles per hour, closer and closer towards the mini-van, halted at a red light directly in front of her.
Instinctively, she slams her foot down against the brake, so hard that the tires squeal dangerously along the slick pavement and the smell of burning rubber immediately infiltrates their senses with such an overwhelming force that Shelby's eyes begin to tear.
She squeezes her eyes firmly shut, bracing for impact by shooting her arm out behind her in an effort to grab onto Noah, preparing for the worst as from somewhere behind them, a car horn blares angrily towards their general direction… as if Shelby isn't already fully aware of just how badly she's messed up.
The car jerks to a halt mere inches from striking the van before them, jolting its passengers so that their seatbelts constrict painfully across their chests; Shelby can feel the air being knocked straight out of her fragile lungs, but she hardly even notices the change; she couldn't even remember what being able to breathe properly felt like anymore.
"Noah, are you okay?" Hiram turns towards their son first as Shelby can't seem to find her voice straight away, too busy clutching onto the steering wheel to the extent that her knuckles are beginning to turn white, eyes wide as she stares in shock, directly ahead of her…
The cars begin to move all around her, honking angrily as they throw obscene hand gestures towards her as they fly by; but she doesn't move the car… she can't in fact, seem to bring herself to move the car.
"Yeah daddy," Noah answers feebly and the fist currently holding a vice grip against Shelby's heart eases up slightly. "Is mommy okay?"
He's worried about her… Noah is constantly worrying about his family; protectiveness being something that is simply in the boy's nature… In the back of Shelby's mind, a random memory enters in to her head; she remembers thinking one day, that once Rachel grew a little bit older, the poor girl would never be able to so much as look at a boy let alone talk to him before Noah pummeled him into submission…
The thought hadn't crossed her mind in years, yet for some reason, now that it's unclear whether or not her son would ever be given the opportunity to protect his little sister, she can't seem to get it out - the uncertainty towards whether her daughter would so much as make it to elementary school, let alone high school the seeming glue that Shelby needed in order to get the idea stuck permanently etched across her mind.
"Yeah buddy," Hiram answers, "She's okay."
Hiram takes Noah to bed the second that the car is parked safely away inside of the garage; the fifteen minute ride having taken almost an hour thanks to Shelby's impromptu breakdown smack dab in the middle of one of the busiest streets in Lima…
It was still light outside, Noah had argued, and he made a valid point; the late winter air was barely just starting glisten in its brilliant shades of red and gold as the sun descended all around, but amidst the chaos, Shelby felt as if it might as well have been midnight… Noah hadn't been given an opportunity to nap today, and although his sleeping schedule was guaranteed to be skewed for days as a direct result of putting him to bed before six, Shelby couldn't help but feel as if he wouldn't be the only one -
In fact, the only thing that Shelby was certain of anymore was of the fact that it would be a long time coming until she could find herself sleeping easy once more.
By the time she'd finally entered her home, she'd found it to be eerily quiet… She climbed the stairs breathing heavily strictly for the sake of noise rounding the corner only to find that her bedroom door had been closed and locked…
She knew that Hiram must have choose to shell himself away inside of the room, and she decided in an instant, that she would offer him the space that she knew he needed for the time being, at least… They were all bound to breakdown sooner or later, Shelby could only assume.
She sauntered gently towards Noah's room to reciprocate, paying special attention to avoid having to first peer into Rachel's in her own effort to evade the reminder as to why it was currently empty…
"Hey momma…?" Noah addressed the familiar clicking of Shelby's heels down the wooden hall as she rounded into his room, pausing in the doorframe where she propped herself up against the wooden panel, her eyes lingering across her son as he scrambled to sit up in his bed; no longer willing to take advantage of any opportunity to simply look at either one of her children.
"What is it sweetheart?" She asks him.
"Is Rachel going to die?"
Shelby is under the distinct impression that had her son stood up and slapped her clear across the face as hard as he could, it would have hurt her less.
"Why would you ask that, Noah?" She watches the boy intently as he begins to fidget with his hands, his eyes averting downward in an effort to watch in seeming wonderment, as his fingers curved perfectly interwoven within one another and clenched; a tight fist representative of his current discomfort, of his sadness that Shelby knew, such a young boy shouldn't be capable of feeling.
"Do you remember the last time that we were at the hospital?" Noah drifts into the memory, and for a second or two, Shelby is unsure exactly where her six year old is going with this conversation before suddenly, a flash of realization dawns inside of her dreary eyes. "It was when daddy's daddy died, and when that happened, daddy was really sad. And then today, we were at the hospital with Rachel, and now both you and daddy look really sad. So does that mean that Rachel is going to die?"
The abilities of her son's impressive memory shock her more than the depth of his reasoning does. He couldn't have been any older than three years old when Hiram's father had died, Rachel barely one… They had been living in New York City at the time, Shelby continuing an already impressive career on Broadway as Hiram celebrated a promotion to head RN of the emergency department at NYU Medical Center mere weeks before…
Considering what their lives had been then, to what they had become now… to Shelby, it seemed like a whole other life; it was a whole other life. A little more than a year ago now, Shelby Corcoran had decided to pull a complete one eighty, strictly for the sake of her children. She had given up the Broadway stage, she had moved her husband and two children away from the only home they had ever known into the small suburb of Lima, and she had done it all, she'd told herself, in an effort to protect her kids; to better their education, to keep them away from the stresses and evils of a city lifestyle, to ensure that they stayed healthy…
Some good that did.
"Yeah honey, you're right… your grandpa did die at that hospital." She chose not to lie to her son; he wasn't a stupid kid, he understood that something was just not quite right with his family…
In an instant, Shelby couldn't help but wonder what her life would have been like had she done it all differently… more specifically, she wonders if any of this ever would have happened? Would Rachel still have gotten sick if they'd stayed in New York, would she have gotten sick if they'd allowed her to have the bedroom on the opposite side of the hall as she had wanted? Did this happen because by some ultimate act of strange misfortune, Shelby had passed along a hidden set of her own faulty genes directly into Rachel's fragile, unsuspecting body?
This idea alone makes Shelby feel more ill than she already does, and she finds that it sinks, like a burning pit, straight through into the center of her chest.
"But Noah, that doesn't mean that Rachel is going to die too." The boy tilts his head gently upwards, his eyes latching firmly onto her own… Shelby had passed her eyes to their exact onto both of her children. Every time she looked at either one of them, she couldn't help but feel as if she were looking at herself. And suddenly, with a pang that tugs on her already worn heartstrings, she can't help but wonder; if it's possible that Rachel fell ill because of her, than was it possible that he could get sick as well? "I'm going to make sure of that."
"Then why is she in the hospital?" The poor child was bursting at the seams with confusion… He was much too young to have to be forced to understand the mysteries of the things that life threw at you – they all were.
"Noah, honey…" Shelby swallowed heavily, her head spinning as she attempted to concoct the best means by which to approach this conversation with her young son… But the more she considered, the more she realized, there just wasn't going to be an easy way to go about doing this. She should have known that much. "Your sister… she is very, very sick Noah."
She studied the boy carefully, searching for that dawn of understand to spread through his features, even the simplest sense of realization… but it never did, so she was forced to continue.
"And me and your daddy and the doctors are going to do absolutely everything that we can to make sure that she gets better, but from now on, we're all gonna have to start being a little bit stronger and a little bit braver than what we're used to, okay?" She spoke slowly; articulating her every syllable as Noah gently bobbed his head to the rhythm of her speech. "We're all going to have to be strong for Rachel."
"I can be strong for Rachel, momma!" Noah professed animatedly, jumping to his feet and reaching himself to his full height in an effort to prove just how big and strong he truly was… With a teary smirk, Shelby's eyes travelled across her young son briefly… he just looked so much bigger, so much taller, so grown up all of a sudden.
The Superman pajamas that it seemed to Shelby she had just bought him yesterday were already a size to small; the elastic bands at the edges of the pant legs gripping tightly around his upper ankles, exposing his bony lower legs in their entirety… With a sudden burst of sadness, Shelby was reminded that when she'd awoke earlier that morning with a rush of blissful naivety, her intentions of the day had been to buy her children some new clothes… But now, that thought was left in a different time zone, a different era even…
'B.C.,' Shelby thinks, 'Before cancer.'
"I know that you can be, Noah." She nods her confidence in the boy, pulling him onto her lap where she immediately begins playing absentmindedly with his closely shaved hair. "But you have to know that it's okay if you're a little bit angry or sad or confused about what's happening with Rachel."
"Are you sad momma?" His neck swivels to its ultimate threshold in an effort to face her, inquiring eyes darting upwards towards his mother.
"Your daddy and I are especially sad, buddy." She nods her truth, "We're very, very worried about Rachel, but you know, we're also worried about you too."
"You don't have to worry about me." He shakes his head vigorously, as if the harder he shook, the more Shelby would have to believe him although his actions were unnecessary – she already did. "I'm going to be strong for you and for daddy and especially for Rachel."
His body sinks suddenly within Shelby's lap alongside the completion of his motivational speech, the entirety of his weight transferring onto her thighs as he looks down towards his hands and drops his voice so that Shelby can't be sure whether or not he'd intended for her to hear him as he whispers –
"I'm going to be Rachel's hero; you'll see."
She's in the car on her way back to the hospital when her cell phone begins to blare – the hospital, calling in order to confirm what deep down in Shelby's heart, she'd already known to be true; her daughter, her beautiful, restless, loving, ambitious four year old daughter was officially a leukemia patient.
She wants to stop the car, she wants to slam on the brakes in the middle of this crowded street and simply sob all of her worries, all of her cares away, but she knows that this wouldn't do her, or Rachel any good, so instead, she forces herself to keep her foot flexed against the gas; the SUV picking up speed at a remarkable rate as it barrels onward toward the hospital.
When her phone rings again, she nearly throws it out the damn window, restraining herself just in time only by thoroughly convincing herself that this must be the hospital calling her back in order to tell her that they had made a terrible mistake, that they had read some other poor, unfortunate child's lab results, that Rachel didn't have cancer…
She's actually disappointed when she discovers that none of the elaborate scenario that she had just made up in her mind turned out to be true – the familiar phone number of her parents' house displaying itself proudly, almost arrogantly across her screen.
"Hello?" She answers the phone with a distinct sense of hesitancy, mentally smacking herself for the temporary lapse in judgment that chose not to send the call straight to voicemail… She couldn't tell her parents yet, not when she was already struggling bad enough as it was… No, she wasn't willing enough, she wasn't cruel enough to lead another poor soul into this unfortunate lifestyle quite yet.
"Shelby, how are you?" Her mother sounds ecstatic on the other line, her enthusiasm merely cleaving Shelby's heart further into two… Her mom adores her children nearly as much as she does; she was bound to be heartbroken.
"I'm okay mom," She brings herself to tell this blatant lie, but what else was it that she was supposed to say? Was she supposed to say that she was doing absolutely terribly, that her life was currently falling apart at the seams, that her child had been diagnosed with cancer mere moments ago? How was one supposed to segue into this type of conversation?
"Guess what?" Her mother presses forward abruptly; unable to pick up on her daughter's obvious pain with the distractions of such external excitement. "Your sister-in-law had her baby today! It's a boy, his name is Andrew Jonathan Berry; ten fingers, ten toes; he's perfect… he's healthy… he's perfectly healthy." Inside of Shelby's chest, her heart constricts for what seems to be the millionth time today alone; subconsciously, she wonders just how much more strain the organ would be able to withstand before it simply bottomed out completely.
She can't help but wonder what her mother had told her own brother the day that she'd called him to tell him that Rachel had been born… Did she tell him that Rachel had been two months early? That her lungs had been so hopelessly underdeveloped that she'd spent the first three minutes of her life in respiratory arrest? Had she told him that Rachel had been born defective, imperfect, slated to die before she'd ever truly had the opportunity to even live?
"That's great, mom." She chokes, the thought of her entire family celebrating all around her while she found herself taking rapid summersaults straight down the ledge of a cliff emanating in a deep stinging that lingers deep inside of her very core.
"And Hiram and the kids; how are they?" Shelby pauses obviously, sucking in a sharp breath of air… Even she is waiting to see how she is going to respond to this one.
"They're… they're great mom," The lie slips easily off of her tongue, much easier, she knows, than the truth ever could. "They're just fine."
"Good, that's good," Crystal Berry responds absentmindedly, "Well, your father, sister and I are al headed up to Boston tomorrow morning to see the baby. I'm sure you'll make it up there in time."
"Yeah mom," Shelby's voice falls empty as she considers her brother, considers the idea that in fact, she will most likely not be making it anywhere other than Lima Memorial Hospital anytime soon…
Ephraim had been born a mere year before Shelby, but in terms of mindset and maturity, he might as well have been a decade older… They'd grown up together, alongside their younger sister Krista in the small suburb of Teaneck in New Jersey, a mere minutes-long drive to New York City – a convenience that had always played kindly to Shelby's dreams…
But of course, as per usual, Ephraim hadn't seen things on the same priority level as she had. The second that he had graduated high school, he'd packed his every belonging into a car and drove it up to Boston, where he attended MIT, received a Masters in architectural engineering with honors, and started a small business with his contractor wife that grew so rapidly, that Shelby had blinked and her brother was a millionaire.
Ephraim had given their parents their first grandchild. He had been the first to build their retirement investment, the one to close out their mortgage, the onto to buy them a freaking beach house in Miami for Christ's sake, although, for the life of her, Shelby still could not figure out what it was that her sixty-something year old parents were going to do with a beach house in Miami…
Yes, Ephraim Leroy Berry was the pride and joy of their parents' eyes, he always had been, and now, on the day that Shelby's daughter faced a leukemia diagnosis, he had to take it one step further and introduce a happy, healthy baby boy into the world – how typical.
"I'll be sure to visit."
The first time Shelby gets the opportunity to see her daughter following the girl's official diagnosis, she is struggling through the heavy fog of anesthesia; barely awake, yet still cringing with every motion that she commits to that doesn't compliment the enormous hole that the doctors had drilled into her pelvis earlier that afternoon.
She can't help but feel as if Rachel looks smaller, more fragile, more sick than before and she wonders if this is all mental, or if the addition of a hospital bed combined with more tubes and wires than she can even keep track of is actually making a difference.
"Rachel, sweetheart," Shelby approaches the girl slowly, twining her fingers through Rachel's delicate brown locks so that she can't help but to wonder how much longer her child will actually have hair atop her head for her to play with. "I need you to wake up for mommy now… Come on, Rach."
Rachel swats momentarily at the intrusive appendage, taking gentle swipes in an effort to retain her peacefully sleep, but her eyes rebel to her desire, her body forcing itself awake where she looks on frustrated with the interruption for a brief moment, before the sense vanishes, replaced by relief as she is met with the comforting, gentle stare of her mother.
Instinctively, Rachel reaches upwards with her arms, indicated to Shelby that she wants nothing more than for her mother to pick her up, to hold her close and never let go, but the second that she actually moves, she retracts once more, whimpering in the pain that the sudden motion has caused her so that in an instant, she fears that she will have to settle for what she's got…
The child releases several sharp sniffles which quickly turn into wails that leaves Shelby scrambling to find a means by which to hold her daughter while causing her the most minimal amount of pain humanly possible so that, with carefully concocted motions that only a mother could manage, it's only a matter of time before she's holding the girl tightly to her chest.
"Shh sweetheart," Shelby rubs soothingly against Rachel's back, her warm palms traveling up and down the length of skin left exposed by her drafty hospital gown; a tacky tan cloth printed with a plethora of zoo animals. "It's okay, mommy is here now... it's all gonna be okay."
"I've got a boo-boo, momma." Rachel groans heavily into Shelby's shoulder, using the fabric of her mother's sweater to soak up all of the tears leaking from her eyes as she points downwards towards the spot on her hip covered in nothing more than a plain sheer bandage. "It hurts."
"I know it does baby," Shelby coos as she clutches the tiny girl a little bit closer into her chest; holding onto her daughter for dear life. "I'm sorry that it hurts, Rachel... I'm so sorry that I can't take this hurt away from you." She feels the tear drip softly down the side of her cheek before she has the opportunity to contain it, before she has the opportunity to remind herself that she cannot cry in front of Rachel... It makes the dangerous descent down the length of her cheek, plunging in its apparent suicide mission off of the cleft of her chin where it performs an impressive free-fall before landing directly into Rachel's hair below...
And her girl is sharp; she doesn't miss the motion for a beat.
"You're sad, momma?" She asks her mother, reaching upwards with a tiny finger in order to catch the additional tears as the continuously slip from Shelby's eyes; unstoppable, now that they have begun.
"I'm a little bit sad, Rachel, you're right." She nods to the young child. "It makes mommies very, very sad when they have to see their babies hurt... Mommy just wants to see you feel better again, that's all."
"I'm sorry," The girl sniffles, her eyes turning away from her mother as she ducks her head deeper into the woman's chest.
"Hey," Shelby speaks abruptly, her emphasis exemplified as she places a single finger beneath Rachel's chin and lifts the girl's head up until their eyes meet. "You have nothing to be sorry for, baby girl do you hear me? Because even though I am very sad right now, I'm also so proud of you for being so strong and so brave... I know that it hurts sweetheart, and I know that mommies are supposed to be able to make everything feel better, but Rachel... this time, mommy is gonna need a little bit of help from the doctors."
"Did I do something bad, mommy?" She asks the woman.
"No, sweetie," Shelby answers abruptly, attempting to squash this rumor straight out of Rachel's head before she has the opportunity to expand it any further in her already overwhelmed and confused mind. "Why would you think that?"
"Because I got sick..." Rachel sniffled softly. "Because they keep hurting me..."
"Oh Rachel..." Shelby sighs, pulling the girl even closer into her chest than she already was. "Nothing that you did was bad or wrong, Rachel... The doctors don't know why it is that you got sick... not even mommy knows why. But whatever reason it is that this happened, I want you to remember that none of it is your fault. You did nothing wrong, okay?" She felt the child nod timidly against her body. "Honey, I know that some of the things that the doctors are going to have to do to you are going to hurt, and I know that they're gonna make you feel pretty yucky inside, but Rachel, remember that they're only doing that so that they can make you feel better again." Shelby freestyles her timid explanation towards her young daughter, left merely to hope and pray that her choice of wording was one by which Rachel could actually understand...
She doubts it though; hell, not even Shelby understands.
"So I have to get sick before I can get better again?" Rachel tilts her head upwards in her confusion, her eyes burning into Shelby's with the questions that Shelby isn't too certain that she actually has the answers too.
"Yeah," Shelby nods, impressed with the extent of how much it seemed, Rachel actually did get.
"It's gonna get rid of my cancer?" Somewhere in the center of Shelby's throat, she can feel her heart lurch and get caught up painfully between the restricting muscles... There was an overwhelmingly heart-breaking factor involved with hearing your four year old talk with such conviction of the disease that was currently trying to kill her; the disease that, mere hours ago now, she'd never even heard the name of.
"Yes Rachel," Shelby confirmed. "It's gonna get rid of your cancer."
"Okay," With a small nod, Rachel seems satisfied with her mother's explanation... The older woman could only wish that things were so easy... She watches the tiny child move within her arms, delivering a large yawn as she shifts to make herself more comfortable against Shelby's shoulder.
"Are you sleepy, honey?" She knows the answer before Rachel so much as has the opportunity to give it, but still, the young child nodding through a steep yawn as she clutches desperately around her mother's neck in search for a comfortable place to sleep confirms it.
"Come on then," She lifts the practically weightless child with ease, placing her back gently down against the bed before pulling the covers high up to her chin, tucking them securely beneath her body.
"Mommy?" From her position cocooned within a sheath of blankets, Rachel rolls over to the best of her ability, her eyes peaking open in the motion to ask but one more question before she decides to call it a night. "Can I ask you one more question?"
"Yeah sweetie," Shelby responds absentmindedly.
"Can I still go to my dance recital tomorrow?" Shelby pauses abruptly in her motions... she had completely forgotten about Rachel's recital.
"I'm sorry baby," She whispers sympathetically after a long silence, rubbing her hand gently across the top of Rachel's head in an effort to comfort the girl as she adjusted to yet another means by which her life was about to change in a significantly negative direction
"B... but..." Her lower lip began to tremble as she stuttered her injustices outwards to her audience. "But I want to go."
"Shh," Shelby coos, trying desperately to calm the child, knowing that should she get herself worked up now, Shelby would never be able to get her to go back to sleep. "I know that you do honey, but remember what I told you? Both mommy and the doctors need you to be very, very brave and to stay in the hospital for a little while longer so that they can help you get better, okay?"
"Okay..." Rachel sniffles in a manner that tells Shelby, she is not convinced although the girl leans into her mother's touch despite herself.
"Now sleep sweetheart," Shelby persuades the girl gently before a sudden reminder pops abruptly into her head, sparked by the unnatural nakedness of the space currently lingering between Rachel's arms; instinctively curled for something to be placed inside of them... and Shelby knew exactly what that something was. "I even brought you a present."
"A present?" The girl inquires with a groggy alertness, the potential for gifts exciting her despite her alertness.
"Yup," Shelby nods, digging through her bag only momentarily before she pulls the old, worn stuffed bunny rabbit from it; Rachel's security blanket that Shelby had to take home with her after the doctors had refused to allow it to pass into the sterile operating room with her.
"Barbra..." Rachel sighs in relief, a tired smile splaying widely across her features as she allows her mother to tuck the rabbit safely in between her arms before she rolls immediately into its warmth, resting her face protectively against the cotton fur. "Thank you, mommy."
"You're welcome sweetheart," Shelby watches carefully as the girl's eyes close, brushing her fingers through the small wisps of hair bordering her forehead as she begins to hum subconsciously; an incomprehensible melody that she'd inadvertently turned into song so that she found herself singing quietly without even realizing it.
"Golden slumbers fill your eyes,"
The girl drifts into a deep sleep quickly, exhausted from the days events, leaving her chest gently rising and falling softly with the bated breaths of sleep; safe beneath the watchful stare of her mother.
"Smiles awake you when you rise."
A sign dangles at the head of Rachel's bed, flapping gently alongside the breeze created by the humidifier. It depicts a small smiley face, dressed and cartooned to resemble a young cancer patient; a smile in his yes although his mouth is obscured by the surgical masks Shelby always saw those foreigners wearing on the news during anthrax scares or SARS outbreaks - Stop! It read, I'm on infection precaution. Have you washed your hands recently?
"Sleep pretty darling, do not cry."
Trapped inside of the silence, Shelby can't help but to allow her mind to wander as she begins to wonder, if Rachel is to go, would she be in any pain when it happened, or would she succumb to such a drugged stupor that the transition between sleep and death wouldn't even be noticed? She wonders whether or not her daughter will make it to see her wedding day, her college graduation, her senior prom, her first day of kindergarten...
These questions ring relentlessly in the back of her head, forcing her to believe that somebody must have all of these answers, but at the same time realizing that sometimes, it's just easier to believe that there are no answers out there to actually be found.
"And I will sing a lullaby."