Chapter Three
Forgotten
Forgotten: adj. To be no longer paid attention to, disregarded or lost; not noticed inadvertently.
(It had started out like this:
Miley. Lilly. In love. Confession with a bit of kissing. Forgotten date. Car crash. Car crash. Car crash. Moving on.
Whoops,
that hadn't happened yet.)
--
It had been more than a fucking week, and Lilly was officially losing her mind. She felt like leaving it all behind, like letting it be in the past, like it should be forgotten. Now. It had been horrible for her to see her best friend in so much pain; it was something she would never forget, because Miley had been slipping in and out of the real world and on some days it felt like it was almost them again, like they would get through this and be okay, but on other days Miley had been so broken, so gone, and Lilly almost hadn't dared to go into that hospital room.
But she was always sure that it was going to be alright. She may have doubted it for only second, but she had decided to forget about that lack in judgement and think positively. It was going to be okay, they were going to be okay. She was sure that Miley would feel better in no time. It was tough for her, sure, but she had so many people who supported her; they were all there to make her feel better. She'd be out of the hospital in no time, and it could all be forgotten, be in the past.
Though things hadn't exactly turned out like that. It had been more than a fucking week, but the car crash was not yet forgotten, Miley still seemed so broken, and Lilly didn't know what to do. Everyone had in some way showed Miley their support, whether it be with flowers, visits, chocolate or whatever, they had done it, she was not forgotten, and Lilly understood why. But she just felt like… she felt like maybe she was forgotten.
It was horrible for her to think that way, she knew that, but she couldn't help it. It had always been about Miley, and usually Lilly was okay with that, but now… she really wished that she would go some attention too. She understood why people were so concerned the first days. Miley was the one in the hospital, with the leg that wasn't there, and she had just gotten four stitches, and it was natural that they were more concerned about her. But it had been a fucking week now, and Lilly hadn't gotten any time to share her demons, to get everything out, no one seemed to want to know how she was doing after the crash, they all asked her about Miley. She felt so forgotten, so left out. No matter where she went, and who she talked to – it was all about Miley.
On a given day it would happen at least four times.
Mr. Corelli:
"Heey Truscott, how's your buddy Stewart doing?"
"Fine, Mr. Corelli, just fine."
Ask about me, ask about me, ask about me.
Saint Sarah:
"Oh Lilly, I wanted you to have this so you could give it to Miley. My parents heard about the crash and what happened with her leg, and they felt so bad and kept asking me how it was going, so they made this for her, it's supposed to cleanse her soul, and they were thinking about starting a charity to gather money so we could all help pay for the prosthesis. So anyway, I've gotta go help the less privileged, but could you give that to her? And oh, how is Miley?"
"She's… doing better, thank you Sarah, I'll make sure she gets this. She's doing good."
But I'm not! I think… my ears are bleeding.
Oliver:
"Lilly, did you talk to Miley yesterday, where you there? I couldn't make it 'cuz Mom wanted me to do push-ups with her, but how is she doing?"
"It's okay Oliver, and she's doing… great!"
Hey, it's not okay Oliver, she might be doing great, but why don't you ask about me? I have something I need to say to you before it eats me away. Ask how I'm doing… please.
Heather Truscott:
"So Lillian, how was Miley today when you went to see her after school? Is she feeling better?"
"Sure Mom, Miley is feeling much better."
Ask about me, Mom! I'm your daughter, ask how I am!
But no one said, "Lilly, how are you doing?", so Lilly grabbed her board that evening and went to the only place she knew she could be herself.
--
Lilly felt numb.
In her backpack she had all her school books and the Book of Lyrics: Do Not Look, and tugged beneath her left arm she had her skateboard. She had everything that used to be the essence of her, except Miley by her side, and apparently the last thing was what did the trick. Without Miley there, Lilly wasn't herself, she was someone else, and it was worrying her, because that someone else was numb.
What if Miley never unbroke? What if she would always be the shallow body of a used-to-be happy girl? If Miley never felt better, Lilly wouldn't either. It was all connected like that, and even when skating in the park with all her friends at night, she still couldn't leave it all behind, she couldn't forget it, even if she wanted to with all her heart. It hang like a bad remembrance above her head, and she just wanted it all to go away.
She couldn't function without her Miley there. Sure, she was annoyed that it had been more than a fucking week and everyone still pampered around her because she felt forgotten, but she still wanted her to get better, so they could be better. It was like everything was on-pause right now. God sat on his white sky with his expensive universal remote control, and right now the lives of Lillian Truscott and Miley Ray Stewart were pretty much paused.
Lilly's insides cringed with fear and pain, and she felt so wrong. She was numb. Gone. She had officially left the building.
She had been staring at the door to Miley's room for at least fifteen minutes now, and maybe it was time to go in, so she wouldn't look like such a fool and spend her entire life trailing after the leftovers of the accident, and trying to fix something broken, that just kept playing the same song over and over again.
Un-pause please.
Lilly lifted her right hand and knocked on the door, waiting for someone to answer. Not that she expected some sort of recognition, but everyday she hoped that they might have gotten further in their movie.
But of course, Like any other day, Miley didn't answer, Lilly went right in and sat in the chair in the corner.
"What's up, patient? How're you feeling today, Missy?" she mumbled from her seat, and tried to keep on that happy smile, but she was numb, gone, and not quite ready to leave this building.
Miley stared at her from her bed. She was popped up on pillows and her hair was in braids, she smelled like she hadn't had a proper shower in more than a fucking week, "I looked at my not-leg this morning. How do you think I'm feeling?"
Like shit. At least I am.
"Like shit." Lilly said, and reached a hand into her bag, book, pencil, out, "At least I am."
"You still have your leg."
Lilly said, "I still have my leg."
Miley didn't reply, she stared at the blue, blue sky, and Lilly pressed the tip of her pen to her paper, and made a star next to the word 'broken', she wondered what the big deal was. Miley could still have the life she had before. It would take some time to get used to it, but it was going to be okay. She did not see what the big deal was.
"I do not see what the big deal is."
Miley flinched, "You still have your leg."
and Lilly said, "I still have my leg."
Miley's hair was in braids and it had been more than a fucking week, she was numb and gone, but still in the building, and she looked like she had lost a lot of weight, "I don't want to have an artificial leg."
Lilly didn't want to have something artificial either, but as Miley often pointed out, she still had her leg, "It's like a normal leg."
"But it's not normal."
Lilly wondered if they were ever going to talk about their date, for it had been a good night turned horrible, but there was something between them, and Miley had to work past this, so they could move on together.
The broken souls of Earth,
Ruined with despair
Who puts them back together,
Who combs their fairy hair?
"It's been more than a fucking week, Miley. Are you ever going to smile for me?"
Miley un-smiled, "No."
"A.fucking.week."
Angry, "I fucking don't care!", and sad, "I have no fucking leg, I've lost my fucking essence, I've lost my fucking soul." Calming, calming down, saying fucking 'fucking' a lot, "I'm fucking weak and I wanna fucking be happy, but I cannot…" deep fucking breaths, calming, calmer down, "I cannot smile for you, Lilly!"
Fucking care, fucking leg, fucking essence. She cannot fucking smile.
"You cannot fucking smile for me."
Lilly bit her lip and stared at her paper again. Miley was bro-bro-broken, and how on earth was she going to fix her? Bro-bro-broken souls of earth cannot just be fixed. And she wanted to cry, but she couldn't, and she wanted to know where her tears had gone, but it wasn't as easy as that. She wanted to forget everything and skateboard and write, but she was numb and gone and fuck, did she want to leave the building right now?
It was more than a fucking week ago! A fucking week, and yet Miley still felt the need to soak around in self-pity and Lilly loathed her for it, for she was better than that, they were worth more than that. She wanted Miley to face the world with a smile on her face again, and maybe ask her how she was doing, but it didn't come, she was forgotten.
Miley swallowed, "I'm getting my prosthesis tomorrow."
Lilly closed her Book of Lyrics: Do Not Look, "Good." Sigh, "Maybe you can start training your body again."
Miley seemed mad, but for some reason Lilly knew that she was happy she was there. Not that she ever showed it, but she knew Miley appreciated it, because she needed a way to get all her frustrations out. And who better to be mad at than the person you trust the most? Who better to talk to?
Lilly knew this was right.
But how would she talk to the person she trusted the most, when that person was so broken?
"I don't want to have an artificial leg."
Pointing out, "It's like a normal leg."
Annoyed, "I don't want it."
Lilly dropped her book in her bag and got the cleansing gift from Saint Sarah's parents out in stead, "Saint Sarah wants you to have this." She mumbled and dropped the tiny wooden figure on the white linnet.
Miley glanced down at it briefly, but said nothing.
Lilly didn't know what to say either, she wanted to tell Miley how angry she was, how much it annoyed her to see her like this, she wanted to say, "Listen,"
but all that came out was,
"not a thing."
Lilly stared at what had been a smiley Miley just more than a fucking week ago, and sighed. Grabbed her bag and board. She felt so wrong, so un-right. She pointed at the door, "I'm gonna go now. I've got… stuff."
Miley's head pecked up, and for a brief second, Lilly saw something of the real her, "You… you coming tomorrow?"
Because Miley needed her there, she appreciated her there, even if she didn't say so. But Lilly felt so numb, she wanted to go (she went), she simply left the building.
--
He called her up,
"Hey Lilly, do you want to have dinner with us tonight?"
and she gladly accepted and was there four minutes later.
"Thank you for having me, Mr. S."
"Jackson and I weren't sure if ya wanted to come, but it's been awhile since I ran into ya at the hospital." Robbie explained, while he made sure to fill his tacos with meat, "I just wanted to make sure you were good."
Lilly couldn't help but smile as she bit into her taco too. No one had asked her if she was good before, "I've been better, thank you for asking though."
It felt awesome, answering his question about being good.
"Ya dealing with the demons?" Robbie continued, with a heart warming smile, and suddenly Lilly didn't feel too numb, and she just nodded shortly, "I've got a couple of those myself." Robbie finished.
Jackson said, "I've seen 'em at school. They ask about Miley a lot."
"They care about Miley."
"I know they care." Jackson bit his taco, "But they don't ask about you."
Lilly shrugged, stared into the table, "They don't ask about me, they're just concerned about her. But it's tiring in the end."
Robbie stared at her like a real father would, "Of course. You were there too, Lilly. And you're hurting too. They just can't see it."
Lilly looked up at him again, because suddenly this conversation was about something so much else, "How do I make it stop?"
Jackson arched an eyebrow, Robbie said, "Just say the right words.", and Lilly nodded in understanding; she could say the right words.
And so the next day, it went like this.
Mr. Corelli:
"Heey Truscott, how's your buddy Stewart doing?"
"Fine, Mr. Corelli, just fine."
Shit, what do I fucking say?
Saint Sarah:
"Oh Lilly, I wanted you to have this so you could give it to Miley. My parents heard about the crash and what happened with her leg, and they felt so bad and kept asking me how it was going, so they made this for her, it's supposed to clear her head, and that charity they were thinking of starting, they're working on it already, I'm sure they'll contact Miley's father soon. So anyway, I've gotta go help the less privileged, but could you give that to her? And oh, how is Miley?"
"She's… doing better, thank you Sarah, I'll make sure she gets this. She's doing good."
Oh yeah, I really… need to make that stop.
Oliver:
"Lilly, did you talk to Miley yesterday, where you there? I couldn't make it 'cuz Mom wanted me to run thirty miles with her, but how is she doing?"
"It's okay Oliver, and she's doing… great!"
Alright, I should be able to talk to Oliver. Why don't I just tell him to go fucking visit Miley and say no to his mom? I should talk to him!!
Heather Truscott:
"So Lillian, how was Miley today when you went to see her after school? Is she feeling better?"
"Sure Mom, Miley is feeling much better."
Shit, I can't even tell my own mother to stop?
And still no one said, "Lilly, how are you doing?", so Lilly grabbed her board that evening and went to the only place she knew she could be herself, except… tonight she couldn't.
Skateboard friends:
"Lilly! We heard! Hows-?"
(Oh yeah, them asking – that really ticked her off)
"Miley? She's numb. Gone. She's left the building."
(And they were scared for a second, because Lilly rarely got mad)
Word got around, and for some reason-
people started asking a little less about Miley,
and a little more about Lilly.
(Lilly really liked that, but shhh, she didn't want anyone to know, because then they might think she felt forgotten before, and that wasn't good; they shouldn't know about her fucking demons.)
Hi there. Thank you all so much for the kind reviews. They mean a lot to me. I hope this chapter was worth the wait. I've got a question for you all, though. My summary? That's not good, is it? I keep thinking I should change it, but I really can't think of anything. If one of you have got an idea, please do let me know.
Disclaimer; I don't own Hannah Montana.