Dell knew tonight was gonna be one of those nights.
Those nights that snuck up on him and struck like a snake, leaving him in a state of dull paralysis and terror.
These type of nights required some Madeleine Peyroux and rancid vodka that tasted like hate and burned all the way down. He'd curse and moan and drown in self-pity until he got his chin above water. That usually happened in the morning, with a terrible hangover that could chase guilty thoughts away.
Tonight, Dell sat alone in his apartment. The carpets were in need of deep cleaning, the walls were chipped and peeling, and the kitchen was layered with various pleasantries such as greasy spoons and bowls crusted with dried oatmeal. Dell wasn't much of a clean-freak.
Dell nursed his bottle of vodka as he stared blankly into space, a rather common habit of his whenever he went deep into thought. She would always laugh whenever she saw him do that; said he was so focused on something that his soul would vanish from his body and float amongst the constellations of his thoughts, or some cheesy shit like that.
She may not remember, but he remembered. He remembered how her hair always glowed brilliant yellow (not golden or flaxen or whatever the hell colors poetic twits used to describe blonde chicks). Her eyes were the same color. The only eyes he'd ever seen that glowed in the dark and pierced him like fire.
Neru Akita. God.
He thought about her all the damn time.
Back when he was a stupid college kid, getting high and piss-drunk and picking up chicks for fun. When she was the geeky little high-school sister of his friend Lily. She was awkward and stick-like, with bizarre glowing irises that burned into him like lasers.
He had sworn to himself he wouldn't date a sixteen-year-old girl, even though she was like a magnet to the darkest parts of his soul. She attracted his brooding, his hate, his lust. They started hanging out. She was a firecracker, a meteor, titanium. No snide remarks or violent outbursts could phase her. Tough as nails, smart as a fox. Tiny and lithe and always, always, always able to wrestle him to the ground. The first time they 'did it', as she would say with an immature giggle, it was like he wouldn't just move on once he had gotten what he wanted. Something besides lust told him to stick around Neru.
They began impromptu dating. She'd take him to truly awful hipster hangouts; he offered to take her to topless bars, which she always refused with a punch to his arm. He developed a lot of bruises the summer he met Neru Akita.
But he never developed scars. If she could bounce back from anything, so could he. Each of them always had to be the best, the first, constantly one-upping each other. Soon, their asshole friends dropped them; it was almost impossible to be around the gold and silver couple. They were so self-absorbed and competitive.
Dell didn't need other friends. He had Neru. They were perfectly matched in militant anger and rebellion and passion. He wondered if they would grow old together.
That night, Dell had been driving to take Neru to her favorite restaurant, a crappy little pizza joint in the armpit of downtown. She had whipped out her old Cranberries CD and blasted Zombie as loud as it would go. And Dell would listen to O'Riordan's endless chants of "In your head, in your head," while he watched tears blur her fire-eyes.
He was so astonished at seeing Neru tear up for the first time that he lost control of the steering wheel. She turned toward him, horror etched in the familiar lines on her face. All he could see was the tears cutting glistening tracks in her cheeks as the eighteen-wheeler sideswept Dell's little Acura. Something pushed into his spine and bent him like a spoon as shadows writhed in front of his eyes. Dell thought about screaming, but his throat couldn't seem to work. Shadows swallowed his vision as he heard Neru's agonized cry.
When Dell regained consciousness, he was sitting in a hospital bed with a fractured vertebrae and two slipped disks from the impact of the eighteen-wheeler smashing his poor car into a light pole. Said light pole was the force he felt pushed into his back. The eighteen wheeler had smashed the door into Neru's head. The doctors said she had some head trauma, but she was alive.
Dell watched silently as they spat this information at him. His mind wandered amongst the constellations as his eyes glazed over.
Neru. Neru. Neru.
"I want to see her," Dell croaked.
The doctors bit their lips and glanced at each other. "Sure, Mr. Honne," one mumbled. "She'll be happy to see you, although we did mention there was a bit of trauma. She may not be the same Ms. Akita you always knew."
Who cared? He wanted to see his... Lover? Girlfriend? Life source?
They transported him to her chambers in a wheelchair, his hands tightly gripping the armrests in anticipation. What kind of trauma could possibly make the doctors hesitant to let Dell speak with the most important person in his miserable existence?
He sat by her bedside as she stared out the window. "Hey, brat," he snorted, waiting for her eyes to light up and her eyebrows to flicker the way they always did when he was trying to get her attention.
Her eyebrows did flicker, but in annoyance. Her eyes showed no tough love. They were empty, devoid of fire. Instead of burning coals they were lumps of ash.
Her next words still chilled him to the bone to this day.
"Who are you? And why did you call me a brat, freak?"
It took a minute for him to process before Dell's stomach sank to his knees. So this was why they hadn't wanted him to see her. They neglected to mention Neru wouldn't fucking remember him.
"Neru," he whispered.
She ignored him, crossing her arms and staring fixatedly outside the window, refusing to look at him.
Dell's heart was cracked, and a flood of memories spilled out. Memories of playful wrestling and buying ice cream downtown and making fun of televised wrestling. Of sweet, tender touches and wildly passionate kisses. Of feeling more alive than he ever had, like a burning asteroid racing through space.
But all asteroids burn out.
He remembered how he had pushed his family, his friends, everyone out of the private bubble that was Neru and Dell. They only provided for themselves and cared not for the sufferings of others. Now, with Neru's amnesia, he would be the only one to remember. He would have to keep the torch burning. But what would happen if the memories left him too? Would there be no one left to remember the crazy young love that he had experienced, the greatest thing to ever happen to him?
As Dell pondered, Neru took a break from her staring to notice his blank expression.
"Hey, are you okay? Your face is all expressionless, like you're a million miles away. Are you up in the clouds, weird silver man?"
Dell smiled at her, this blank slate of a girl who had no experience with life or loyalty or the greatest love, that while it may not have been the greatest love to her it certainly was to him.
Dell and Neru was gone in a single fatal sideswipe, and all that remained was a blank slate girl and a cracked heart with burning memories gushing out every second.
Dell cried that day. Just placed his head in his hands and wept in front of this wonderful void girl who at once meant nothing and everything to him.
Dell grit his teeth as more memories gushed like blood from a head wound. Most days he could deal with the torture, but today he found his old love who knew nothing of the love they shared, conversing with the stupid teal bitch who just had to waltz in and ruin everything, crying and sobbing about lost lustful love. He envied her, envied that she could deal with her emotions so easily, in front of so many witnesses.
Dell hated her from the second she looked at him. He hated her eyes; they had a dull teal look. Not sparkly or glowing at all. Not like hers. They had that opaque sheen that looked like they refracted light, not reflected it. She was quiet and reserved and acted so damn above it all. Nothing like Neru, who usually wouldn't shut up. They were such total opposites, yet Miku had the nerve to act like she wasn't crazy, like she wasn't supposed to be in a psych ward with all of these freaks.
Neru wasn't supposed to, either. The accident had given her more head trauma than amnesia. She became sullen and antisocial. So, they booked her into a nearby mental hospital, to monitor her responses with humans. Dell had switched his major from computer sciences to psychology. Add a few hard years of university, and Dell managed to acquire his Psy.D. in five years, seeing as he had begun his college prerequisites in his last two years of high school. For five years he waited, watching Neru from afar. Five years he pushed everyone away. Five years he gave up messing around with computers and having friends and a life. He was twenty-eight years old, and he had thrown everything away that he had except for a doctorate in something he couldn't give a shit about and a girl that glowed. Everything.
Neru didn't remember him, but he knew she would have wanted him to keep her safe. Always. That was his job. And that included becoming a clinical psychologist and working at the same nut house she lived at for five years. He was her therapist, listening to every insignificant scuffle with an inmate or how awful her breakfast was. She was so classic Neru, but not. They met every afternoon at 5:45. And every day for an hour he asked her about her waste of a life and how she felt about everything and all he wanted to do was tilt his head back heavenward and scream, "Doesn't anyone care what I think?"
Yes. Tonight would definitely be one of those nights.