Five Months Later

The morning sun rudely streamed through my bedroom window directly in to my sensitive, sleep deprived eyes. I blinked a few times to let my eyes adjust to the light, and groaned when I looked over to the alarm clock on my bedside table. 9 o'clock was way too early to be lucid. I sat up in bed and rubbed the sleep out of my eyes as my brain started catching up with the rest of me. It took me a moment, but when I realized what was wrong my heart started racing. I looked around in a panic and took in the room before me. My posters were still hanging on the wall, my TV was still sitting atop the dresser in the corner displaying the bouncing Sony logo from my DVD player, all of my photos and knick-knacks still displayed as they should have been. It was what was missing that had me believing that I must be going insane.

It was gone, all of it. Every bit of evidence that indicated I committed suicide the night before. The half empty bottle of tequila. The depleted bottle of my dad's sleeping pills. The note that explained, in no uncertain terms, that I couldn't live another day without her.

Did I hallucinate the suicide? If so, it was an extremely vivid hallucination. I remember writing the note while sober, tears rolling down my face and soaking the page before me. I remember using the tequila to help me down an entire bottle of sleeping pills, and then drinking so much more that my entire torso got warm and my head started getting really fuzzy. I remember getting into bed and waiting for oblivion.

Was I now dead, and this was the afterlife? If this was the afterlife, so far I was unimpressed. Everything looked to me exactly as it had yesterday, minus the batshit craziness of course. I wouldn't think life after death just became a replay of life, but what do I know? I'm just a fucked up kid that killed herself last night.

With my hands shaking, and my heart still beating 100 miles a minute (in my throat no less), I threw on some clothes from my floor and trudged downstairs.

I turned as I got to the bottom of the stairs and saw my father running on a treadmill in the middle of the living room.

"Hey kiddo, you look like you've seen a ghost!" My father, the jokester, chuckled. Honestly, he was pretty damn close to the truth.

Not knowing what to do, or say, I just grunted and headed into the kitchen. I pulled a carton of orange juice out of the fridge and chugged it while I tried to calm my jangled nerves. I heard the treadmill stop and my father's footsteps echoing down the hallway.

"You alright Beca?" my dad asked me. I set the carton down on the counter as I thought of how to respond. I mean, how am I supposed to answer that? No! I'm freaking out here! Everything is wrong! I'm going crazy! What is happening!? As a paragon of eloquence I decided on this:

"Yep. Why?"

My dad looked at me with his eyes slightly narrowed before he said, "Okay, just making sure. You seem a little off this morning."

"Nope, everything's fine. Peachy. Hunky dory," so yeah, I went a little overboard with the synonyms, but can you blame me? I felt like I was in a sci-fi movie. The tightening of dad's jaw and thinning of his lips indicated to me that he knew it too.

"Becs, I won't push, but I just want you to know that you can talk to me about anything. I'm here for you," my dad said sincerely. I'd heard nothing but these platitudes (sincere or not) for the last five months. I was sick of it.

"Thanks dad," is all I could trust myself to mutter. He walked over to me and pulled me into a not-quite bone-crushing hug. He patted me on the back a couple times before pulling away with his hands on my shoulders and looked me in the eye.

"Have you given any thoughts to what we talked about last night? You need a plan Beca. You can't just stay at home all day and do nothing."

That did it. I gritted my teeth and glared at him, tears threatening to fall. I nodded my head at him in acknowledgment and walked away. I needed to get some fresh air, so I headed outside.

Looking around the neighborhood I could see that nothing had changed. The Millers still had those stupid Halloween decorations in their front yard, even though Halloween was last week. The lesbian couple down the street, Dawn and Carol, had at least 7 cats sitting in various windows of their house watching the streets below. Chloe and I used to joke about how long it would take us to get that many cats. Mike next door was painstakingly maintaining his landscaping, and I could tell he'd already been at it for hours. He waved as I walked by, and I grudgingly waved back. Thankfully he didn't try to engage me in conversation. I wasn't in the mood.

I didn't have a destination in mind when I set out, but it was obvious after a few minutes where my feet were taking me. It always came back to this. To her. I wasn't even sure why I was doing this. I hadn't been back there in months. But with my day being as crazy as it was, I guess I just wanted to see something familiar. Even if it brought back all the heartbreak I'd been carrying since that night. And all the doubt.

It didn't take me long after leaving the hospital to come to grips with my potential insanity. After all, what did it matter? Chloe was gone, I was alone, and no matter how loose my hold on mental stability appeared to be, nothing was going to change that. My denial and heartache ran so deep, that I ignored the wrongness of everything around me. Until I could ignore it no longer.

I'm standing in the park where Chloe and I had spent a lot of our time sitting twisty style on the swings so we could look each other in the eyes. Talking about nothing, laughing about everything. I sat down in those swings where when we were in the 4th grade we realized we "liked, liked" each other. It seems so silly now, so childish, but it couldn't have been any cuter. We had been together so long that it was hard to remember a time when we were just Beca and just Chloe. We were a package deal. Joined at the hip. Two peas in a pod. But what it really boils down to is this: we were soulmates. It was kind of inevitable that we became Beca and Chloe.

I pulled up to the house and parked in the front yard with everyone else. I turned the car off and got out, opening Chloe's door for her.

"Opening doors for your lady tonight, huh?" she asked me with a wide smile on her face.

"I have to keep you around somehow. If all it takes is opening a couple car doors and telling you that you look pretty, I'll suffer through it."

"It's gonna take more than that, babe. I'm gonna need chocolates, and skinny dipping in McKeller's Pond, and helicopter rides, and… and…" I put my hand behind her neck and pulled her to me in a searing kiss. After a moment I released her and smiled. She looked slightly breathless and her eyes were a little unfocused.

"I don't know about helicopter rides," I told her with a sad smile, "but I can give you this." I got down on one knee and reached into my pocket.

"Oh my god!" she said breathlessly until she saw that I was pulling out a Hershey's Kiss. Then she glared at me. "You jerk!"

I couldn't help laughing. "Sweetie, you just said all you need was chocolate and skinning dipping and helicopter rides. Here's the chocolate," and I gave it to her with a flourish. "I'll take you skinny dipping later. And I promise you, someday I'll take you on that helicopter ride."

"I'm going to hold you to that." She was still glaring at me, but with the red tint to her cheeks I could tell she wasn't really mad. Maybe disappointed, but I'd make up for that later. The ring was still in the car. She popped the chocolate into her mouth, and took my hand as we headed into the house for our graduation night party.

I never did get to keep that promise. I was never able to give her the ring either. I thought I had more time. But that was the night it all came crashing down. That was the night my soul died. Because how can a soul survive when half of it is missing.

I sat on the swing for a while, staring at nothing. Lost in memories. Trying not to break down. Ignoring the kids playing on the playground. Ignoring the odd looks from parents. Oblivious to the world around me. Trying to wrap my head around this bizarre situation I found myself in, but finding no immediate answers.

I don't know how long I sat there, but after quite a while I stood up and was going to head home when I was hit from the side and knocked to the ground. I looked up and saw Chloe's little brother William frowning at me.

"Sorry about that, are you okay?" He asked me, looking very apologetic.

"Geez Billy, watch where you're going. That hurt," I told him. I stood up and dusted myself off, missing the confused expression on his face.

"How do you know my name? Do I know you?"

My heart skipped a beat and I looked at him closely. Seeing no obvious signs of recognition, I realized my day was about to get weirder.

"Umm… I guess not?" I replied uncertainly.

"Okay then, bye," he shrugged and ran off leaving me standing on the playground with a frightened expression. I immediately took off running, my heart thundering in my chest. There is only one place I could go right now. One thing I had to see.

It was happening again. The world was tilted on its axis. The last time this happened I knew I had to be crazy. Grief must have played a part in my screwed up perception of the world. Now, I knew differently. Now, I knew that I'd died twice. I hadn't been driving that car. Somewhere, the love of my life was alive and mourning me and I was lost to her forever. But in this world I now found myself in, maybe I had another chance. Maybe here she was alive too.

This was all running through my head as I sprinted to her house. I was silently praying to whoever was listening that I was right. That somehow in the fun house mirror world I found myself in, she was okay.

I stumbled to a stop across the street with my hands on my knees gasping for air and it's like not a day had gone by since the last time I was here. Nothing has changed. And everything has changed. This used to be like my second home. Since the moment I met her and she became everything, I'd come hang out here with her and her family. I was their second daughter. It seemed inevitable that I would become their daughter-in-law. Her brother William was like the little brother I'd never had. Chloe and I were the only ones who could get away with calling him Billy.

I took a moment to steel my courage (and my lungs) before I marched across the street. I knocked on her door and waited.

Her mother, Anita, opened the door. She smiled kindly and said, "Yes, can I help you?"

Seems she didn't know me either. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes trying to calm my racing heart, and when I opened them I asked her, "Is Chloe here?"

"No dear, she's not. Does she know you?"

With my eyes threatening to release enough moisture to make Niagra jealous, I ignored her question in favor of one of my own. "Do you know when she'll be back?"

"Well, she's at school right now…"

I didn't hear anything else she said because the blood was pounding in my head so loudly. I slowly backed away, or more accurately, stumbled from the front door. I was vaguely aware of the concerned expression Anita had as she slowly walked toward me, but I waved her off and started walking home. When I was safely out of sight I let the tears come. But for the first time in 5 months, they weren't tears of anguish. They were tears of joy and relief and I couldn't help myself from bawling my eyes out and laughing my head off like a crazy person all the way home.

When I got there I noticed my father's car missing from the driveway, so I launched myself upstairs and landed face first on my bed. There was a warmth in my chest that hadn't been there since graduation. There was a weight lifted off of my shoulders. I felt immersed in what could only be described as hope.

I refused to think too deeply on the current situation out of fear that I'd break whatever fragile stroke of fate brought me here. It is what it is, don't look a gift horse in the mouth, and all of that other crap. I was here, Chloe was alive, and I was going to make the most of it. I had a second chance and I was going to seize it and hold on to it for as long as I could.

I logged onto Facebook to do a little "light" cyber-stalking. I had to know what I was dealing with. The first thing I noticed was that we weren't friends. But Chloe being Chloe, her page was open to everyone.

Relationship status: It's complicated… well shit. That does complicate things.

We'd planned on going to Los Angeles together. Me to work on my music, and her to attend UCLA. I knew her first choice was Barden University, but UCLA was a close second and minor sacrifice for us to be together. I wasn't surprised to find out she was attending Barden. Well, I would just have to use my connections, aka my dad, to get me in. Music would have to wait.

Also, what the hell are the Barden Bellas?