Author's Note: I'm so sorry this is late. Senior year is a really busy year and I'm preparing for college so please, bear with me.
Bria: You were my inspiration for this chapter. Thank you. This one is for you.
Here's a recap because it's seriously been that long. Okay! Last chapter we saw Jacob and Nessie having sex after he picked her up from the airport. Jacob and Leah haven't seen or spoken to each other for two days now. Meaning, they haven't seen each other since the blow up at Leah's house. Kay? cOOL.
Another Note: This shifts point of view from Leah's to Jake's. You will always know when the point of view changes. I always start the opening paragraph of Jake's point of view in bold. Leah's will always be regular, sans bold, sans italics. I hope this won't confuse anyone in the near future.
Europa
I was suffocating.
It was as if I forgot the concept of breathing. Being in the same room as Nessie with her back turned to me, shutting herself away from the world, away from me, was like being buried alive. My eyes made their way to Nessie, coming in contact with the milk of her skin, the red tresses that spilled down her back. The delicacy of her porcelain frame, my stomach lurched. I needed a fucking drink. I tossed my legs over the thirty year old queen sized bed that my father and mother shared, put on a random pair of shorts, and hastily tried to walk out of the room. Not before she spoke back up. And at the sound of her voice, I stopped in my tracks. I strained my ears to hear the soft, broken voice that came from her pink lips.
"You were a saga to me, but I was barely a haiku to you."
I let her words penetrate my skin. I could hear the bed sheets shift. And with that, at the doorway, I continued on.
I didn't even spare Nessie another glance.
It was all too much. The hurt on her face. The bitterness in her voice. And I wasn't sad about saying Leah's name; I'm sad that it wasn't actually her. I have been six years too sober on the feel of Leah. I haven't caressed her body, indulged in her essence in six years. And here she comes back, sauntering in the way she does. Quiet as a mouse, deadly as a demon. Breaking my heart for nostalgia's sake. But I wanted her, I could feel my penis throb just thinking about her. The warmth of her womanhood around my shaft, encasing me in the essence of her body, her temple. I cursed under my breath and stomped to the kitchen. And maybe, that's the most fucked up part of it all.
I grabbed a glass out of the cabinet closest to the refrigerator and snatched the ten year old Whiskey from under the sink. My father's secret stash. I poured a deal of liquid into the small glass. I raised it to my eye level and swirled the glass to watch the alcohol form a small tornado. I sighed. I tilted my head back and downed the hot acid down my throat. My eyes rolled to the back of my head.
Fuck Leah.
Fuck her for coming back. Fuck her for being alive. Fuck her for being so beautiful. Fuck her for telling me the truth. Fuck her for being an enigma. Fuck me for loving her. Fuck me for not getting over her. Fuck me for wanting her. Fuck me for needing her. Fuck it all. Shit.
I centered my eyes and looked at the off white fridge that has seen better years with chipped paint showing its true age. Magnet letters littering the doors along with old messages my father left to help him remember. His memory started to die when he continued to breathe after the age of sixty-five. I lifted my heavy feet closer to the fridge, each step as heavy as my heart. I read over each sticky note.
Check on Charlie.
Go to the store and pick up eggs, milk, and bread.
Call Sue today.
Wash the dishes.
Thursdays and Sundays are trash days.
Remember to put the trash in the trash bin to go outside the front of the house.
Take a shower after supper. Use soap.
Becca moved out March 23, 2006. She doesn't live here anymore.
You have two grandchildren. You haven't met them yet.
Aleah is Sue's grandchild. Not yours.
You have three children: Rachel, Rebecca, and Jacob.
Sarah died years ago. She doesn't live here anymore.
Your name is Billy Black.
"Alzheimer's is the cleverest thief, because she not only steals from you, but she steals the very thing you need to remember what's been stolen."
Jarod Kintz
I gulped down some more Whiskey.
I never wanted my father's life to get this bad. He never deserved it. I was surprised that he remembered Sue when she died. It murdered my heart to tell him the next day after she died that she is dead, just like the rest of his friends. He couldn't even remember seeing her in the hospital. Or her funeral. And the look on his face when I told him of her passing. It was like he was learning it for the very first time again. The dejected look cast down at his feet. The silent head nod in acceptance. And I had to sit there and watch my father discover his life all over again. Learn that Becca left home. Learn that Sarah died. I clenched my fists. I never wanted to ship him away to a nursing home, but there was only so much I could take. He couldn't even remember his own name some days.
He couldn't even remember me.
I'm just, so tired.
When Leah came back, I was expecting us to run off into the proverbial sunset, elope, and live happily ever after. Have a chance of living the life that I had planned for myself. Not this shame of a lifestyle that I'm living now. Working nine to five at a shitty customer service place. Making two dollars above the minimum wage. But, life isn't a fairytale. This is reality where I have to face my demons to gain angels; even if they were all named Leah. I could feel my hand twitch at the thought of calling her. Hearing her soft, soothing voice. Hear her airy breath over the landline. It has only been two days since I had last seen her, but it feels like she left me again. Even if it was me who left her on her back porch that night.
I could see the kitchen phone hanging on the wall. I could hear the chanting of it to call her, to dial the too familiar eleven digit number. I remember dialing her number every time I got home from school to ask her if she could come outside and play with me. Making mud pies and playing Cowboys and Indians.
I wonder what she would do if she saw my number on the ID. Would she answer it? Would she yell at me? Will Seth answer instead?
On a leap of faith, I glided over to the phone that was perched on the wall right by the doorway to the living room. I took the decade old receiver off the hook and listened to the same mundane dial tone. A tone that was so simple in all of its eloquence was nothing but a mere taunting. Ignoring the harsh whispers of my brain, I punched in her number. Feeling like a five year old in the process. I could see Nostalgia sitting in my living room with a hand perched under her chin watching me with a smirk on her face. Rings stole the silence in my ear.
Ring! Ring! Ring! Ring!
I could feel the beads of sweat germinate on my skin. The tiny hairs of my neck rose to attention like a soldier saluting his Major. The butterflies emerged in my stomach and I could have sworn I heard my heart beating in my ear. My palms started to sweat and the phone started to slip ever so slightly out of my hands. And just when I thought that she was going to blow me off, I could hear someone pick up the phone. I waited a second. No hello.
"Hi," I breathed into the receiver desperately praying to God that it was her on the other line. My voice creaking just a slither, a result from the harsh liquor being shoved down my throat. A pause. My heart beat. My hand twitched.
"Hi," and just like that, my life had changed. I closed my eyes and breathed in. It felt as if I were deaf all my life and gaining my hearing just to hear her voice for the very first time. My stomach flipped. My breath hitched. I slowly leaned my forehead on the wall, just above the phone hook. My hand tightened around the receiver.
"Hi," I reiterated. I mentally asked myself what the hell I was doing. My mind not processing the words that are spilling out of my mouth like a case of word vomit. I could hear her breathing over the line, I closed my eyes, and basked in the sound. I imagined myself nuzzled in the crook of her neck, breathing her in, listening to her breathing. The perfect scenario. The fantasy was quickly interrupted when Leah spoke.
"Its been two days," she quietly said, so unlike Leah, but in a way that made the moment perfect.
"Yeah," Another pause. "Y'know, I don't believe in God, but I don't know who else thank for you coming back into my life. That's got to be some supernatural power, right?"
"...Yeah."
"And when at last you find someone to whom you feel you can pour out your soul, you stop in shock at the words you utter - they are so rusty, so ugly, so meaningless and feeble from being kept in the small cramped dark inside you for so long..."
Sylvia Plath
I've got a fucking war in my mind.
The days have begun to merge. Ever since Jacob had left me on the back porch, my mind has begun to race. It's an all too knowing feeling. I find myself looking at the clock, the phone, the door, to see if he would maybe, possibly, perhaps knock on the door, or call. Time has flown by. Forty-eight hours has come and gone since I had last seen him. A part of me can't help but wonder if this is his way of breaking me. I rolled on my side and stared at my mother's nightstand. Staring at all the little trinkets she had rested on her little area. I couldn't help but dream of a place in life where it could be my nightstand on the left side of the room and Jacob's on the other with his little knickknacks resting peacefully on the stand.
Before I could delve deeper into my musings, a knock sounded from the door. I never had the chance to say come in before the old white door creaked open to slowly reveal my niece in her pink and white pajamas. She had a purple CareBear in her hand and she was sucking on her right thumb. I sat up against the headboard and stayed silent and she silently walked in the room. Observing the walls and the surroundings around her as if this was the first time she entered this room before. I waited for her to say something, but she stopped in front of the foot of the bed and looked at me. From the corners of her eyes I could make out little tear stains.
"Aunt Leah," she mumbled out with her thumb still in her mouth, she continued, "mommy and daddy are fighting, again."
My heart lurched. My hands instinctively clenched before I opened my arms and she scrambled on top of the bed and into my arms. The purple CareBear hitting my chest softly. My arms raveled their way around her small frame and I couldn't help but wonder how often Seth and Carmen argue with each other and how often virgin ears catch the verbal war. I smoothed back her slick, black mane and whispered sweet nothings about better tomorrows and brighter futures. I rocked her in my arms, very much like I did her father only days ago.
Like father, like daughter.
I could feel her hot tears trail down my chest and seep into my cotton shirt. The heaving of her premature body against mine. I pushed her slightly away and used my thumbs to brush away the offending tears. Looking into her stainglass eyes, I could see the innocence painted in her orbs. She reminded me so much of Seth. I'm going to fight for her innocence in a way I never could for Seth.
"Wanna sleep in this big ol' bed with me? It could be a slumber party," I asked her with a slight smile on my face. While rubbing her tear-stained eyes with her wrist, she nodded demurely. I patted the spot next to me and she plopped down on it sloppily. I laid back against the headboard and eyed her from the corner of my eye. I could hear her lingering sniffles. Diverting my attention away from her, I looked up at the pure white ceiling, the only thing in this house that has seemed to keep its luster. "It will all be okay, Aleah. Trust me," I spoke aloud, not bothering to look at her. I could still sense her sucking her thumb laying next to me.
"Aunt Leah," she started. I turned to her, "will everything really be okay?" she asked with such sincerity and hope, I wouldn't dare crush them with my cynicism.
"Yeah."
"...Okay."
She turned her back to me and snuggled with the purple CareBear to try to drift off into the Land of the Nod. I watched her chest rise and fall and wondered if Seth knew what she heard at nights. My mind was racing. Thinking of many ideas, causes, and scenarios. My mind was in overdrive. To think that I've only been back for a total of five days and I already want to leave again. Escape my problems because it's the only way I know how to deal with them. The only way I'm good at.
Ring! Ring! Ring! Ring!
The phone woke me from my reverie. I glanced at the house phone perched elegantly on the cherry wood nightstand. I looked at the caller ID and read: Black, Billy. My heart sped up. With a mind of its own, my hand slowly picked up the cordless phone and pressed TALK. I could hear a few static over the phone and breathing. I gripped the phone a little tighter. A pause.
"Hi," I could hear the deep baritone breathe over the phone. The bass sending a sliver of chills down my spine, down my legs, to my feet. I closed my eyes and embraced his resounding of his voice through the telephone speakers. I wanted to give into him.
A rusty, "Hi," was all I could manage from the dark depths of my being. It sounded so raw, so displeasing. The line went silent before Jacob's voice sounded back through the receiver. His voice never sounded so lovely.
"Hi," he repeated. I wanted to spill my feelings to him. How I haven't been the same since he left me on the porch. How my mind has been in utter chaos. To confess to him that he didn't need to break me. Because I've always been broken. Instead, I kept them buried inside of me. Because, that's all I know how to do and tiger can't change its stripes.
"It's been two days," I whispered back, careful enough to not disturb the little girl next to me; whether she was sleep or not. I wanted to sound strong, to not sound so weak over the phone. To so carelessly display my vulnerability for the one person who can destroy me in the worst ways possible.
"Yeah," he sounded back. A second pause. "Y'know, I don't believe in God, but I don't know who else to thank for you coming back into my life. That's got to be some supernatural power, right?" I froze for a second. And then it broke, the dam that was building up inside of me. I could feel my insides burned at his heavy words. I never expected that he would be so good at breaking me, my heart. I placed a hand over my mouth to muffle my sobbing that he wouldn't know that my glass heart just gained a new crack. I gained my composure before I opened my mouth.
"...Yeah."
I should have known that he'd be so good at ripping hearts into shreds.
After all, he did learn from me.
"...Yes, there is joy, fulfillment and companionship - but the loneliness of the soul in it's appalling self-consciousness, is horrible and overpowering."
Sylvia Plath
Author's Note: Holy shit. This was super hard to write. This isn't beta-read or anything and this is in my opinion such a shitty chapter because it was so boring and uneventful and I couldn't find my muse for this chapter. :/ The struggle is real.
Anyways, thanks to those who are sticking around with this story. I swear I have no intentions on giving up this story especially when I've invested so much of my time in it. Besides, I really don't think this story is going to be over twenty chapters. So, yeah. I hope you found some entertainment from this... abomination.