"You have set your heart on haunting me forever from the start. It's never silent."
-"Nearly Witches" Panic! At The Disco
When I was ten, my mother and father got into an argument over a broken vase.
Bullfrog and I had been playing catch inside, even though Cece specifically told us not to, and I had thrown it too far and it had hit the face square in the center. It smashed into a million pieces.
Cece had come barreling down the stairs, screaming and yelling, asking if we were okay and what was going on. But the minute she saw the broken vase and the baseball lying beside it, she flipped out. She began screaming at both of us, asking who threw the baseball. I had gulped nervously, but before I could timidly respond, my father swooped in and took the blame, saying he threw it and merely didn't know his own strength. Apparently, the vase was passed down as an antique from Cece's grandmother, and she was fairly upset. Bullfrog however, growing up without much of a family background, failed to see the importance of a vase. They argued over it for a week until finally, Cece ran away to her mother's house to cry her sorrows to someone who understood. She only stayed for two days, but in that small amount of time, my father fell apart. He didn't eat and he didn't sleep. He only took care of me with empty eyes. He spent the rest of his time on the couch, staring into nothingness or in his tool shed.
By the second day, I felt fearful for my father. The way he was acting was something I was not used to. Bullfrog was usually so full of life and now it seemed that with Cece gone, all of his happiness left as well.
So after lunch, after Bullfrog went to his tool shed, I picked up our house phone in my small hands and dialed my mother's cell phone number.
"Mommy?" I had said, my voice shaking. "Eli? Baby boy, are you alright?" She sounded worried.
"I broke the vase." I sobbed, clutching the phone like a teddy bear. "I didn't mean to, it was an accident. Please don't blame Daddy. Please come back home."
"Oh sweetie that's not why I'm angry." She said soothingly, but I wasn't listening. She sighed. "I'm coming home."
Twenty minutes later, Cece walked in the front door. "Mommy!" I cried out, running towards her. She picked me up and hugged me, accepting all of my mumbled apologies against her shoulder.
"Eli?" My father called out. "Didn't I tell you not to open the door to-" He stopped speaking when he saw my mother. "Hello" Cece said quietly. Bullfrog didn't answer, he simply turned around and went back to his tool shed. We were both confused for a minute, but he came back, and when he did he produced an object.
It was Cece's vase, glued all back together. Not like new, but certainly not as broken as it was before. Cece stared at the vase, then back at my dad, before setting my down and flinging her arms around Bullfrog. "I'm sorry honey." he said and she kissed his with a sense of love and forgiveness I still marvel at today.
Now, in the present, I look at myself in the mirror, recognizing the numb look I had seen on my father's face so many years ago. An empty, lonely, tortured look in my eyes, with a feeling in my heart to match. I leave the bathroom, slamming the light off with annoyance, mostly due to the fact that it is the first light I have seen in days, but also because I cannot take out my frustrations any other way. I sulk back to my bed and climb under the covers, inhaling deeply. The bed still smells vaguely of her, and I am still intoxicated by her lavender scent. A tear leaks from my eye and I brush it away quickly.
It has been two and a half weeks since I last saw Clare. Simpson ordered us to stay where we are, and not travel anywhere. He was working to relocate the CIA, and if he needed us, we had to be there immediately. Staying at the hotel was fine with me. I spent an unhealthy amount of time replaying Clare and my conversations over and over, and the rest of my time was spent wallowing in heartbreak. I eat little, and I have a horrible case of insomnia. This is what my father felt when his love left him, only Cece came back.
Clare Edwards is not coming back to me.
"Why would she?" I think to myself. "She got all the information she needed."
"But maybe she really loves you." An optimistic thought reaches me and I brush it away, like I have with all signs of hope lately.
"She doesn't love you. She was just doing what she was told. Besides, why would she love you?"
I pull the covers over my head to avoid looking at the slivers of sunlight that manage to escape the blinds I have closed. There is a knock at my door and I show no intention of opening it, but the visitor begins to knock to the beat of "Paisley Jacket" Adam, Drew and my favorite song by Dead Hand. I sigh, recognizing our secret knock and trudge over to the door, opening it slowly. Adam walks briskly through the doorway, Drew following behind with a stack of DVDs and box of pizza.
"What are you guys doing here?" I grumble out, closing the door. "We're here to get you out of your funk." Drew declared, throwing open the pizza box and taking one out. Adam shows me the DVDs. "You need a good guy's day to forget about…her." He says gently, avoiding her name. I glare at my shoes, hating how they are treating me like a glass doll. "I'm fine" I state half heartedly and Drew snorts. "Yeah man. You seem fine to me." I growl and Adam shoves Drew. "Like it or not, we're here to stay. You need to forget her." He looks me square in the eyes, and I want to cry like a child all over again. "She isn't coming back."
I sigh heavily and fall onto the bed. "You got any SAW movies in there?" I ask and they both smile. "All of them" Drew says. "Which one are we watching first?"
. . .
Drew and Adam are passed out on the couch near the front of the hotel room and I am laying soundlessly on the bed, staring up into the darkness. Insomnia has taken over yet again and this time, I don't fight it. Adam and Drew's guys night has helped, but not cured me completely.
I close my eyes and attempt to sleep, but her laughter rings in my ears and her face is all that I see behind my eyelids. She is ripping me apart and she isn't even here to see it.
I allow myself to wallow in self pity for a few moments more, and then I open my eyes again. As agonizing as exhaustion is, I decide that it is better than the alternative of remembering the perfection that I have lost.
There is a sudden pounding at the door and it startles me. I walk to the door, shaking Adam and Drew awake as I move. "Wha?" Drew says sleepily, rubbing his eyes. "Someone is at the door." I state, twisting the doorknob. The door swings back to reveal Simpson. He appears wide awake, although there are bags underneath his eyes that signify that he hasn't gotten much sleep either. "Mr. Simpson?" I ask in confusion.
"We got a tip." He says hoarsely.
Adam and Drew join me in the doorway. "What do you mean?" I ask, not believing my ears. "We got a tip that Edwards is hosting a party in the States, celebrating his rise to power again. All of the agents will be there, along with Edward's criminal associates." All three of our mouths drop open, but Simpson doesn't have time to speak. "We're leaving on a plane to Illinois in twenty minutes. I've already started to contact the other members. Pack up your things."
He begins to close the door, but Adam's places his foot in between, making it impossible. "Wait a minute" he says suspiciously, now fully awake "Who gave you the tip?" Simpson looks to me, then back to him before smiling faintly. He passes off a piece of paper and moves briskly away, a skip in his step.
Adam carefully unfolds the paper, reading it quickly. He then laughs in disbelief. "What?" Drew and I say in unison. "You're not going to believe this guys." Adam says, shaking his head. He hands me the paper and I begin to read. The top portion of the note is an invitation reading the date, time and dress code. However, the bottom half is written in perfect handwriting that I cannot mistake.
Come in through the back door. A girl named Alli Bhandari will be waiting there for you. She will escort small groups to designated areas. When the midnight bell chimes in the east end of the ballroom, count to ten before making your move. Be careful.
I am sorry for getting you all into this mess. I attempted to do this and not hurt anyone, and yet I ended up hurting many people, especially one in particular.
Eli, if you're reading this, and I know you are, I am so sorry. You were right, I shouldn't have gone through with this. When my father first discussed this with me, I was completely against it. But, as he progressed, I realized that he was finally paying attention to me, we were finally spending time together. As shallow as this sounds, I did this partially out of attention from my father. And now, after its all over, I know that I made the wrong choice. You were there for me when my father wasn't. I didn't need to do horrible things to get your attention. You saw me when no one else did. And I took that for granted.
I understand that you may never talk to me again, but please know that I truly did love you, and I still do. I never intended to, it just happened, and I don't regret it.
Thank you for loving me when I needed it most Eli. I'm sorry I hurt you.
-Clare
I look up from the note to see two expectant pairs of eyes and I see that Drew has read it over my shoulder. "She sounds pretty genuine in that letter Eli. I'd hate to say it, seeing the sorry state she left you in, but I believe that she never meant to hurt you." Adam nods in agreement. "You forgive her?" He asks in a hopeful, tiny voice.
I snort. "It's going to take a lot more than a note to make me forgive her for what she's done boys." I pocket the paper and begin collecting my clothes to place them in my suitcase. Adam and Drew shrug and follow suit. The topic of forgiveness is not brought up again, however I feel a grin tug at my lips and a warmth spread in my chest and this time, I can't push it away.
Damn you Clare Edwards.
You're already forgiven.
. . .
Ta-dum! Sorry for the short-ness of the chapter and the strange song choice. I couldn't really find a P!ATD song that fit this chapter.
Be prepared for a slightly early update.
Follow me on Tumblr: verbal-acuity[dot]tumblr[dot]com
Reviews make me happy.
-Maya
