Hello again! Thank you so very much for the reviews, favorites and follows.
Prepare for way too much angst. I can't even. I know it's longer than usual, but I promised Emily's answers in this chapter so… here they are, some of them :)
"Em," Alison said before the woman could pull her into a chair at the table, "I think I'm going to go. You guys need to talk alone." Although Emily was willing, Alison thought better of inserting herself into this particular conversation.
"Ali, no," Emily shook her head, "I can tell you... if you want." Although it was encouraging that Emily offered to share the privileged information, her uncertain choice of words signaled her reluctance. Confident in her decision to leave, Alison acknowledged the fact that they had really only known each other for three weeks. She knew how to respect unspoken boundaries. There would be plenty of time for them to divulge any secrets or less than desirable aspects of themselves. She preferred to read the book that was Emily one chapter at a time, in order, rather than dive into the middle without context.
"It's okay, Em. Really, it is." With their hands intertwined, she strolled to the front door.
"Whew," Emily's insecurity dissolved instantly. "I dodged a bullet there." When Alison couldn't prevent a confused look from spreading across her face, the brunette explained, "Over sharing isn't something I normally do."
Putting the woman, clearly uncomfortable with the topic of the phone call, at ease, Alison placed both hands on Emily's chest near her shoulders and smiled, "I picked up on that." With Emily distracted by her light hearted words, the blonde stroked down her chest making sure to add extra pressure as her hands trailed over Emily's breasts.
"Holy hell!" Emily hissed and moaned quickly slapping the roaming hands away. Alison smirked deviously.
"I seriously heard that from in here!" Hanna called out disgusted by the noise.
"I can make it louder," Alison returned as she teasingly darted forward to once again grope Emily.
As the brunette swatted at the hands like flies, Hanna asked, "Did you grab her boobs? Cuz that would definitely explain it."
Intrigued by the other blonde's knowledge, Alison abandoned her quest for another arousing sound and asked Emily, "How does she know that?"
The brunette shrugged and offered nonchalantly, "When you have sex with someone, they tend to know those kinds of things."
"What?!" Alison gasped. The revelation plunged into her stomach like a piano shoved out of a window of a skyscraper. The suspicion that the two friends had been together in that way wasn't even on the mile long list of her questions about Emily.
"Does that surprise you?" the other woman asked cautiously with a wrinkled brow.
Her eyes looking a million places other than Emily, Alison blurted, "She said you weren't her type." Her brain couldn't process the news quickly enough to compose herself.
"Well," Emily explained casually, "I was a few times, I guess."
"Ummmm," the word hung in the air for at least two seconds. She couldn't land on a feeling so she could adjust her reaction accordingly. Was she jealous? Or—
"Ali?"
"What? Huh?" Alison forced her gaze to the puzzled Emily.
"You're making a weird face." The calm dotting Emily's voice and mannerisms frustrated the blonde for some reason momentarily unknown to her. Either she was nuts and overreacting or Emily was completely oblivious of the shocking nature of the confession.
While holding back a slew of questions, Alison answered truthfully, "I just had no idea that you'd slept with your best friend… whom I'll be seeing all the time."
Cocking her head to the side with a stern face, the brunette asked, "Did you really buy that?"
"Emily Fields!" Alison declared in disbelief, punching the now grinning woman in the shoulder. It took a few seconds for her to recognize the humor in the woman's audacity.
"Oww!" Emily complained with a giggle. Ali took one more swing. "Seriously. Oww."
"That wasn't funny," Alison latched her fingers to the top of Emily's shirt and yanked her to her chest.
"Au contraire, that was hilarious." Emily's right hand slinked behind the woman and squeezed her ass playfully. "Worth the physical pain."
"Thank god it's not true," Alison sighed with relief untangling her fingers from the material and instead thumping Emily's chin with a smirk.
"This," Emily stressed the word referring to their budding relationship, "is going to be fun."
Entranced by the lips, Alison clarified, "More so for you, I think."
Resting her forehead against the blonde's, Emily promised seductively, "I'll make it worth your while."
"Em!" Hanna yelped when she peeked around the corner into the entryway. "Jesus. Keep it in your pants and let her go."
Before releasing Emily, Alison whispered against the woman's lips, "I'll see you on Saturday."
Emily replied as her Northern girl reluctantly pulled away, "Yes you will."
Alison turned to leave, but whipped around to query the Hanna's frowning face poking into the room, "Hanna, you haven't slept with Emily have you?"
"Eww! Barf!" Hanna exclaimed popping fully into view waving her hands frantically. "No way! Eww! Again, barf!"
"I should be extremely offended," Emily rolled her eyes.
"Gag," Hanna concluded motioning as if she was puking.
With a grin, Alison chirped, "That's the answer I wanted to hear."
"Does anyone know where Emily is?" Alison asked Spencer and Aria as her phone call to Emily went to voicemail for the third time.
"No," Spencer answered as she paused to speak to her friend on her way into her living room carrying a tray of bite sized meats rolled in tortillas. "Are you trying to come across as clingy?"
Annoyed with the suggestion, the blonde retorted, "It's 9:30. She said she'd be here over two hours ago."
"Something must have come up," Aria suggested.
"Maybe she smashed her phone again so your phone calls are all for naught," the other brunette concluded before returning to her guests.
Rubbing a hand comfortingly down her friend's arm, Aria said, "You just need to adjust. You're not used to dealing with someone who doesn't give you an itinerary of their life." She snagged the phone Alison fumbled in her hands and reminded, "When Duncan was actually in town, he was attached to you by an umbilical chord."
"Eww, Aria," the blonde grimaced at the analogy as she made an unsuccessful grab for her phone.
With the phone tucked tightly between her hands behind her back, the brunette chuckled and said, "And you hated it."
"I'm just worried," the blonde huffed giving up on snatching back her phone.
Sweeping into the room with an empty tray, Spencer corrected, "You're nosey." As her blonde friend shot her a glare, she elaborated, "Wasn't it less than two weeks ago that you eavesdropped on one of her conversations?"
"Okay fine!" Alison tossed up her hands in defeat. "I'll stop calling her. Can I have my phone?"
Scoffing, Aria clutched the electronic even tighter, "Nice try, Ali. You forget how long I've known you." When the phone in her hands started vibrating, she swung it to her front and checked the caller id. "It's Hanna," she noted in a puzzled tone.
"Great," Ali rolled her eyes, "She probably kidnapped Emily to keep her away from me and is calling to gloat." Aria handed the phone to its owner and a perturbed Alison answered, "What?" Her face almost immediately dropped, "Hanna, what's wrong with her? Tell me—" the voice on the other end cut her off. Aria and Spencer wore matching faces mixed with confusion and concern. "I'll be right there—Yes—Yes, I want to deal with this." Alison hung up and strutted toward the front door after grabbing her clutch while explaining hastily, "I've gotta go. Something's wrong."
Both Aria and Spencer chased after their friend and Aria asked, "Why? What's wrong? Is she okay?"
"She's not hurt," the blonde assured her friends as she remotely unlocked her car and swung open the door, "but Hanna said I should come if I really want to deal with everything."
"What is everything?" Spencer snapped hurriedly before her friend could pull the door closed.
"No idea," Alison answered. Within seconds, her door slammed, the car's engine roared to life and she quickly backed out of Spencer's ridiculously long driveway. On the phone, Hanna asked her if she was willing to deal with Emily's "shit", as she put it. As she drove with determination, she made her decision.
When she reached Emily's house, she slowly opened the unlocked door unaware as to what she would find inside. "Hanna? Em?" Alison inquired of the seemingly empty house. She didn't hear a greeting in return, but small sounds from the kitchen quickly caught her attention. She gulped as she hesitantly walked forward. Randomly, the possibility of a very drunk Emily in the kitchen stopped her in her tracks.
"Alison," Hanna whispered as she appeared from the kitchen. "She's in there," she thumbed toward the room. Sensing Alison's state of alarm, she immediately assured, "She hasn't been drinking."
"Did she ask for me?" Alison queried still not knowing why Hanna called her here.
"She's not really in a state to ask for anyone," Hanna said weakly. Alison had yet to see this side of Hanna. Until now, she coated her concern for Emily with aggression. "Just go in there. She wants you even if she didn't ask."
"Okay…" Alison replied quietly as she stepped past the blonde, who folded her arms across her chest and retreated to a different part of the house.
Alison's breath caught in her throat at the sight before her. The strong, sarcastic Emily sat rocking and weeping in a fetal position in a corner of her kitchen. With her chin wedged between her knees, she didn't even glance up at the dumfounded blonde. By the state of her speckled red face and unsteady breathing, she'd been crying for at least half an hour. Alarmed at the state of her, Alison asked despite Hanna's previous statement of her welfare, "What's wrong? Are you hurt?" She practically flung herself onto her knees in front of the distraught woman and asked again, "Em, are you hurt?" A simple head shake served as her answer.
When Emily didn't recoil, Alison scooted to Emily's left side against the cabinets in a cross legged position. Much to her relief, Emily timidly pawed her thigh amidst her sobs. The blonde settled the woman's head on her chest and wrapped her right arm around her. Not much time passed before Emily grabbed Alison's other hand and latched onto it for dear life while her other hand clung to Alison's jacket.
While theories rushed around in her head, Alison remained silent occasionally comforting the hysterical woman with a light kiss on her head. She knew better than to say something insensitive such as "it's okay", when she hadn't the slightest idea what was wrong. After a few minutes, it hit her. Today was Saturday, the day Hanna mentioned previously.
Every thirty seconds or so, Emily jolted a few times in her embrace as her lungs yanked in gulps of oxygen her body needed. The sobs and coughs pooled a wet sadness into Alison's own eyes, but it was a few other heartbreaking sounds that nearly threw open the floodgates. Emily held nothing back as small screams and throaty groans were torn from her heart and scraping the soft tissue of her vocal cords. She wasn't crying in response to some seemingly unforgivable wrongdoing, her entire body racked with unbearable emotions of loss. "She died," Emily choked on her words as the saliva built up in her throat. "Right in front of me." Dear god. Alison reeled at the words. It was the anniversary of someone's death.
Many feelings brought on tearful breakdowns, but only grief stripped a person of all control and social awareness revealing a flimsy shell of a flawed human being. Grief ripped a person's soul from reality and plunged it into a hopeless, dark alternate universe where only two people existed—the dead and the loved one left behind. Helplessly the loved one watched as a cold, boney hand yanked the dead from their embrace despite the shrill pleas and cries echoing for miles. As the person sank to their knees, merely a shadow of themselves, the hand returned only to plunge a dagger into a chamber of their heart they didn't know existed. As it twisted and tore a gaping hole, they couldn't see anything but bloody pain. Pain had a form with a blood stained gaunt face and eyes as empty as its victim's heart. It stared down the devastated, wailing person with a somber expression. An upturned corner of its lips seemed to mock the loss.
When the specter faded and the physical anguish jerked the inconsolable person from a surreal nightmare into a harsh reality, the sensations of burning lungs, muscles raw from shaking and vocal cords nearly severed from guttural cries threatened to completely dismantle the already broken individual. Alison let tears trickle down her cheek as she could only imagine what horrible memory Emily must be reliving.
Emily squeaked. "I think it was my fault. I know it's my fault." Alison had no time to respond before the brunette groaned with a sob, "God. There was so much blood." She coughed. "Everywhere. Her shirt, her face, her hair…" she tried and failed to fight off the wheezing and she continued in disjointed phrases, "Her leg was. I knew it shouldn't be like that. Her eyes were. Glass. In her face. Just. Just."
She pushed out of Alison's arms but still propped herself against her side for support. Red splotches covered her puffy face. The woman was almost unrecognizable, a hollow shell of the woman Alison knew. She choked rhythmically as her lungs struggled to recover. Still crying with her face contorted into the most forlorn expression Alison had ever seen, Emily stared deeply into the woman's eyes above her. She wasn't seeing blue eyes, but brown ones frozen from shock, screaming what her mouth couldn't. "She looked right past me." Emily said in a low voice. "Just looked. She never closed her eyes." The brown eyes morphed back to blue and Emily repeated, "She didn't close them."
Alison had no idea how to respond to the vulnerable Emily shaking in her arms. She didn't know this Emily, but she wanted to. She wanted to be the person to keep her from falling apart. For now, she just studied the blood shot eyes as she desperately tried to comfort her without words.
Sniffing as her breathing began to return to normal, Emily's gaze drifted a few inches downward. Alison felt a thumb trace her lower lip. She trembled at the touch. Her eyes searched Emily's face highlighting a deep frown of sadness. After what seemed like several minutes, Emily hesitantly leaned forward aiming her mouth at Alison's.
"Emily," the blonde turned her head and nudged Emily back with a light push on the shoulder. "Not like this," she whispered as gently as possible. She didn't want to deny Emily, but she couldn't kiss her when the other woman's mind was caught in a past loss. She couldn't comfort her like that.
"Please let me," Emily pleaded fighting off another sob.
"I'm not trying to hurt you," Alison explained. "Please believe me."
"Please let me. I need you." the brunette's frown parted releasing a small sob.
Her heart breaking, Alison tried to explain, "Emily, you're thinking of someone else, but I'm here for you."
"She's dead," Emily said as the words kicked her in the face. She cupped the side of Alison's face in her hand. The blonde simply nodded and leaned into the warmth. "You're here."
"Yes, I am," the blonde assured quietly, "I'm not going anywhere."
"And I'm here with you." Emily's lips trembled and she breathed out slowly as her voice cracked, "It hurts so much, but I need you."
"And you have me," Alison answered, "But not like this." She couldn't stomach the thought of Emily's lips on hers as Emily's mind imagined someone else in her place.
"She's not here with us," Emily said. She must have known that made all the difference.
"She's not?" the blonde croaked.
Emily mouthed the word 'no' before saying yet again, "Ali, please let me."
The blonde had never heard her name spoken so reverently and lovingly. She'd waited all her life for the sound of her name to flip her insides and offer assurances she didn't even know that she needed. All she could manage was a nod.
Emily's lips drifted slowly to Alison's. Instantly, the blonde sensed the burdens the brunette desperately needed to share. As soon as they met, Alison felt the brunette's pain roll into her mouth. Emily's defenses slowly crumbled with each passing second as the blonde's lips and tongue knocked the once diligently guarded keystone from underneath the tall tower, which sheltered her very essence that Emily had labeled unfit to be seen. As the kissing became more frantic and hands clasped around necks and shoulders, the blonde eagerly received every exposed feeling and experience Emily silently offered.
"Emily," Alison whispered as the brunette's lips trailed down her neck to her shoulder.
"Alison." Emily's lips paused in the crook of her neck. She choked on a sob and buried her face into the blonde's shoulder. "I'm sorry."
"Don't," Alison brushed away the hair covering the woman's face. "I'm here."
"Ali?" the brunette leaned back and asked timidly. "Will you stay with me tonight? Please?"
Without hesitation, Alison kissed the woman on the forehead and replied, "I'm not going anywhere, Em." The brunette tried her best to crawl into the blonde's lap for comfort.
After a few minutes, Emily asked, "Will you go to a meeting with me tomorrow morning? There's one at eight. Hanna checked."
Rocking the woman in her arms, Alison answered, "Of course." She felt Emily smile into her neck. As Emily relaxed in her embrace, Alison finally realized why Hanna guarded her friend so carefully. Despite the brunette's change in behavior and mentality over the years, a very scared girl huddled beneath the layers of attitude. Instead of dealing with her past, Emily had buried it. With a shit ton of snark and harsh candor, Hanna functioned as a secondary defense mechanism driving out any intruder wielding a shovel.
An hour later, Alison lay on her side in Emily's bed with her arms tightly wrapped around the exhausted brunette. Still in her dress and jacket, she sighed contently. Emily had let her into her world and she couldn't be happier.
Emily awoke curled into a tight ball in Alison's arms in the center of her bed. Hanna, who woke them up at Alison's request, shook her by the shoulder gently and coaxed the pair out of bed. As soon as her eyes opened, the brunette acted as if in a trance. Beneath her emotionless exterior, she still hunched in the corner of the kitchen with her head shoved into Alison's chest. Guilt refused to release her from its iron grip. It had robbed her of every opportunity for a relationship in the past two years. When she found herself faltering in her attempt to make it work with Alison, the slimy fingers of regret and hopelessness slid around her neck threatening to strangle yet another seed of joy. She refused to relinquish the tiny seed, the chance with Alison, and batted away her own personal demons.
She didn't just cry last night because she missed Maya, she bathed herself in her own tears in fear of losing Alison. She felt that hideous beast, her guilt incarnate, towering over them last night and breathing down her neck. Over the years, when he, the creature, invaded her life, she ran for solace, for alcohol. Ironically, he now drooled over her and growled in her ear as she clung desperately to the woman he set out to steal from her. She'd beaten him back last night, but today, she'd banish him forever. She just needed to say everything out loud, to take the power away from the secret thoughts only she and the monster knew.
After changing out of the jeans, sports bra and t shirt she'd never taken off, Hanna made coffee and toast, she burned the first two pieces, and they piled into Hanna's car bound for Philadelphia. Emily stared out the window in the back seat, while Alison held her hand, hoping to offer some small comfort. No one spoke, at least, the brunette didn't hear anyone speak. It was a clear, sunny day, she noticed. At first, she gritted her teeth at the jolly state of the weather, as if was mocking her struggle. After a few seconds of contemplation, she decided it was meant to encourage her instead. She then scoffed at the thought. Really? I'm taking the weather personally? She shook her head and leaned her forehead against the window.
When the trio arrived at the familiar school, Hanna said something as they unloaded themselves. Emily didn't hear it. In her head, she was already standing in front of the crowd vomiting out truths and emotions she'd long since locked inside never to be revealed. In a few minutes, those tiny demons could no longer bang on the paper thin door of their prison and shout degrading, debilitating words, which kept her from a happiness she knew she deserved. She was going to let them out, let them bite and claw her and then throw them out to torment some other man or woman who'd ever made a mistake with consequences they found difficult—no, impossible—to bear.
She didn't notice, but she walked into the room basically propped up against Alison. She thought she was in control, but she'd already relinquished pieces of herself to the blonde. Fortunately for her, Alison wanted more than anything to see Emily free from the chains and cuffs she'd snapped around her wrists two years ago. Her wrists were bloody and in need of bandaging. Once they fell free, the blonde would stay by the brunette's side as her own Florence Nightingale tenderly washing the wounds that could now begin to heal.
Emily felt as though they'd just sat down when someone asked for a volunteer and her hand shot into the air. The surprisingly composed brunette hopped to her feet and stalked to the wooden podium. She crawled out of the shell she'd hidden in all morning and donned her confident demeanor. She knew the facade would fall away, but best to start strong. Clearing her throat with her arms and hands glued to her sides, she turned to the sea of faces. Evenly she introduced herself, "Hi. I'm Emily and I'm an alcoholic. Duh. Or else I wouldn't be up here about to talk way too much about myself." Her fingers silently drummed against her thighs, "I've shared a few times before and it's usually because I've relapsed." Her eyes darted to Alison, who swallowed her reaction. "Honestly, I wish I was up here to talk about that, but things in my life are changing and I need to admit some things to myself and to other people." As she took a deep breath, she raised her hands from her sides and flattened her palms onto the podium. Her gaze locked onto the black nail polish on her fingers and she spoke carefully, "If I keep punishing myself, I'm going to miss out on someone really amazing. I'm sick of," she paused, "sabotaging my own life."
Before she continued, she shook her head and scooted the podium to the side, "You know what? I can't stand right now." She grabbed a metal chair next to Alison and pulled it to where the podium used to be. With the back of the chair facing the crowd, she straddled the seat and said, "There's really no good way to start this, so…" she sighed heavily before practically coughing out the words, "My girlfriend, Maya, was killed in a drunk driving accident two years ago. Yesterday was the anniversary." She plunged forward without waiting for any response from the flabbergasted audience, "It was a one car accident and she was driving." Her right hand grappled uncomfortably with the left side of her neck as her eyes stared down at the gym floor. "And I was in the passenger seat. I made her drive because I thought she was just a little buzzed. It wasn't like we'd never driven home buzzed." Her hand stilled, "We'd done it dozens of times. I was falling over drunk and I whined because she wanted to get a cab." Her foot began to tap, "We'd been at a party at a local bar. It was probably the third or fourth graduation party that week.
"So I complained about the cab and she drove." She cleared her throat as she crossed her arms, propped them on the back of the chair and leaned forward, "She drove and she died." The last sentence was so simple, yet powerful, but she delivered it with a minimal amount of emotion. It was so matter of fact. Behind her controlled facade, her words ripped her insides to shreds.
"It was raining," she recalled, "and she wrapped my car around a pole." Her eyes flitted upward, "It was so… so hazy. I was seeing double, but I heard skidding, her screaming my name and the horrible sound of the impact. She threw her arm across my chest trying to protect me." Alison caught Emily's eyes glazed with tears as the brown orbs fell to the floor. "I was never consistent with seat belts when I drank but she strapped me in before she pulled out of the parking lot. I think I told her that I loved her." One of Emily's legs twitched as she sniffled. "That weird, slurred 'I love you'. She protected me and I put her in that seat. I ki—" her voice cracked and she didn't finish the sentence.
"I put her in that seat because I didn't want to wait for a fucking cab," her head wagged back and forth in disbelief of her selfish actions. "After we hit the pole I slapped the exploded airbag out of my face and looked over and the driver's side door was caved in so much that I didn't even have to stretch out my arm all the way to touch it." She paused before continuing, her eyes still fixed on the grimy floor, "When I saw her face, I put my hand on the left side and shards of glass dug into my skin. I don't remember much, but what I do… I wish I remembered less. Her leg was… bent and there was…" her voice faltered and her words strung together haphazardly as her fingers scratched at the chair, "blood and I… and bone and one of her arms and hands… and her fingers." Her hand migrated to her face and her fingers clawed at her lips as she continued, "I couldn't look at her body anymore so I looked at her face and I can only remember the glass and blood and her eyes.
"Since I was drunk I don't really trust my judgement of time, but she was alive and she hung on for what seemed like half an hour." She pressed her lips together fighting back the onslaught of emotions and then said, "She couldn't talk. I didn't even look to see why she couldn't talk. I was afraid to touch her because…" she almost scoffed at the irony, "I didn't want to hurt her. I'm sure she only hung on for a minute or so, but I'll never be able to shake the sound of her breathing, if you could call it breathing." Emily rubbed her throat along her windpipe as she described with a contorted face, "I didn't know you could actually hear blood filling up in someone's lungs." She could no longer fight off a single tear as her head jerked up hoping gravity might stop the drop of emotion from sliding down her cheek. "It sounded like she was drowning. It was this horrible, haunting gurgling sound."
For a few agonizing seconds, the brunette found herself in her car with her body numb from shock. She couldn't peel her eyes from the sight. Beneath the brown skin on her throat, Maya's windpipe rippled up and down frantically. Emily's nostrils were assaulted with an unrecognizable smell oozing from the deployed airbag. Blood dribbled down Maya's forehead, cheeks and throat. Each time Emily blinked, she prayed the liquid would turn to water and she'd be wrapped in Maya's arms standing in a shower. With each raspy gasp and frothy choke, she watched the fantasy slip away, torn from her thoughts by the blood, glass and the pole now another passenger in the vehicle.
A hard blink flushed away the memory. "Her eyes were wide open just staring straight ahead. There were tears on her face. She never looked at me," the brunette said with a tiny head shake as her gaze finally fell upon the group and scanned it. "In the movies, people who die tragically have the time to say goodbye and tell people that they love them. I think that's bullshit." She claimed dramatically with the fingers on her right hand pursed together motioning up and down deliberately, "If someone's body is completely broken and blood is pouring out and shit is sticking out of them, how the hell can they feel anything but pain? They just want it to stop. I waited for that romantic moment, but Maya just wanted it to be over." She could no longer face her peers as she stared down at one of her feet. "I hope it was over quickly.
"When she finally stopped breathing or choking or whatever that sound was, I just screamed and cried and begged for her to come back. I shook her so hard I wouldn't be surprised if I broke something that hadn't already been broken. I didn't even feel or notice the glass in my hands, side, arms and face or the fracture in my left arm. It was completely overshadowed by my entire world falling apart right in front of me." She stopped to steady her breathing and wipe away a tear, "It's actually a feeling—your world fucking falling apart. I had no idea it was a feeling. I was drunk off my ass but I was conscious enough to realize that it was done." Her arms fell limp, "My life as I knew it was done. And I… and I did it."
Screaming in the car, she could hear the faint wail of sirens and dozens of people shouting. Then there were faces, faces of people trying to help, trying to save her. Her pupils dilated when light from flashlights darted all around the car's interior. Slabs of metal were yanked away and arms carefully lifted her from the crumbled heap that had once been her car. Her own shouts and sobs drowned out voices demanding details.
"I don't know how long it took the police, the EMTs or whoever cut us out of the car to get there. When they dug us out, I just kept screaming her name and crying and cussing them out telling them to help her. My throat was completely raw for days. I've never cried that much in my life." Her right hand began rubbing across her mouth as her elbow came to rest on the back of the metal chair.
"They packed her in an ambulance and I had to beat off a couple EMTs when they tried to take a look at me. They didn't know if I was wearing my blood or Maya's." Her words tugged her back to that night. There were so many hands, so many faces and so many questions. She only cried and smacked away hands in response. She needed Maya, not these insistent strangers. "They let me ride, wrapped in a blanket, with Maya in the ambulance. At some point, a police officer or someone, it wasn't me, called Hanna and she met me at the hospital. I just sat in the ER waiting room… on the floor… a pathetic bloody mess." She trembled as if she once again sat on that white tiled floor. "A friend of mine at the time, Duncan, he showed up too. I remember him holding me and letting me punch the shit out of him. I was so mad. Or I was something. I dunno." She still couldn't place the mix of emotions flashing over her and pounding against her eardrums like the multicolored lights and thumps of the bass at a rave. "I just needed to hit someone, to throw all the shit in my head at something or someone else. Hanna and Duncan didn't say much because they knew I didn't want to hear it.
"Finally a doctor came out and told me what I already knew," her voice jumped an octave as it cracked on the last word. She remembered the woman's eyes. They were green, tainted with hesitancy and sadness. "She was dead." The word hit her like a train like it did every time she said it out loud. "She also told me something I didn't know. Maya had a blood alcohol level of .08. Right at the legal limit. I didn't talk for a few minutes after that. My brain was too busy trying to understand why I told her to drive, but every thought seemed to trip up before it could finish. I thought she was mostly sober. Did you hear that? Mostly sober. That's the type of person that I was then." She picked at the tips of her fingers scratching her nails along her skin.
"At some point, I was dragged into a room so I could have a few pieces of glass pulled out of me. It might have been before the doctor came. I don't know. Oh and I had a fractured arm and crazy seatbelt burn. Whiplash too, but I didn't feel that until later." She added as an afterthought. "Then Hanna and Duncan took me to my apartment. Duncan was there and then he wasn't and Hanna was there all night and the next day. I didn't really sleep. I drifted in and out, but every time I slept, I'd see her—I had a reason to stay awake. I threw up a lot. They gave me some blood at the hospital so I don't know if it was the alcohol still swirling around or how disgusted I was with myself or how badly it hurt knowing that… I wasn't going to see her in the morning. Or the next day or the day after that." That night, the cool rim of the toilet bowl offered the only solace she'd experienced in the past few hours. It soothed the left side of her puffy face. Hanna tried to gently pull her head away and back into her lap, but Emily couldn't let go of the cool feeling of the porcelain on her skin. It felt good. Nothing else did.
"Once I was actually able to process what happened, it might have been the next day or a couple days later, I dunno. I found someone to blame. I couldn't blame myself because it hurt too much that even alcohol couldn't numb it, so I blamed Duncan." She spared her finger tips from the abuse of her nails and scooted herself around in the chair. She gripped the seat and continued with her voice steady and face devoid of flashes of emotion, "He was at the party, but he left around… I don't know what time he left. He said he had somewhere to be in the morning. He was our designated driver, but Maya promised that we would get a cab, because we'd taken a cab before when neither of us could walk more than five feet without toppling over. I blamed him and I refused to see him. The first time I've seen him since then was actually about a week ago. He and I haven't talked about it too much except for him to say that he forgave me for what I did." Guilt strangled her. She'd repaid his understanding of her behavior all those years ago by taking the person he wanted to marry. While she reminded herself that Alison's decision stemmed from a lack of love for Duncan on her part, it didn't change the fact that Duncan was alone.
Anxiously, she wiggled around in the chair. Her inner struggles intertwined with her physical discomfort. "I don't know how to make this stop. It's like the shame is just stuck inside. I haven't tried to be with anyone because there's no room for anyone with all the dirty hateful things I say to myself. Life is just so short and a mistake can be deadly. I made a mistake and Maya made a mistake and she's gone." She paused and mused, "Sometimes you don't realize that when you're with someone, you can't just hurt them emotionally, you can hurt them physically. It just takes one mistake, one stupid mistake and that's it."
Fumbling with her jacket, she gingerly pulled a small box out of her pocket. With all ten fingers cradling it, she settled her hands on the back of the chair. Unable to fight off a stutter and sniffles, she stumbled through, "I umm… about a week after she died umm… I was going through her things and I found this." She stared at the small box holding an engagement ring. "I've only opened it once on that day and I thought it was beautiful. I also… also found a notebook with ideas for a proposal. She even had a date picked out… it was a couple of weeks from the day she—" she couldn't say the word again. "She loved me so much that she wanted to spend the rest of her life with me. She trusted me with her life and I fucked up. I fucked up and I can't fix it. I couldn't fix it.
"I don't know how to trust myself with someone else. I didn't leave someone or cheat on them or treat them like shit, I killed someone that I would be married to right now." She wasn't hurting because she still wanted Maya, but because the Emily from two years ago desperately wanted it. She'd moved on from Maya, but escaping the guilt and fear was impossible. "I need this to stop. This is the only way I can think of to start. If anyone has any suggestions, feel free to let me know… because I want to move on and I want to be someone that isn't afraid to take a chance. And not be afraid to be with someone because something bad might happen. I'm going to make mistakes and I need to be okay with that. I don't feel like I have an excuse to not be happy anymore. And obviously this makes me want to drink a lot. I guess I should have led with that. I drank a lot before she... and I drank even more after it happened. It was the only thing that made the pain stop. But umm… Yeah… So… Just like I didn't know a good way to start it I don't know how to end it so… that's it."
Emily quickly stood, pushed the chair back in place and stalked to the door. She didn't want anyone's eyes boring into her head or have people come up to her after to identify with her struggle. She didn't come for consolation, she came to give a voice to things that had been crippling her for so long. After she wandered aimlessly down the street, she found herself in a swing a couple of blocks away from the school.
A few minutes later, Alison strolled to her side and sank down into one of the swings beside the silent, thoughtful brunette. "Do you want to talk about it?"
Too fragile and discombobulated to carry on a conversation, Emily grabbed the woman's hand and answered, "Not really."
"Okay," Alison smiled with understanding. "We can just swing."
"Don't be too eager," Emily replied as some of her energy returned, "As my girlfriend, you'll probably hear about this shit again and again."
"As your girlfriend?" Alison stressed the word they had yet to speak.
Digging her feet into the ground and kicking backward, Emily nodded, "Yeah. You can make it Facebook official."
"Because nothing is real unless it's on Facebook?" Alison smirked.
Passing Alison on a downward swing, the brunette replied, "Pretty much."
"Emily," Alison said quietly.
Emily's feet dragged in the dirt as she stopped her swinging, "Alison."
"I trust you."
The simple declaration, if true, filled Emily with both terror and comfort. For the first time, a twinge of hope brightened her outlook offering a second chance to trust and be trusted by another woman. Although the thought seemed disrespectful to Maya's memory, the brunette couldn't shake the feeling that Alison was the person she'd been waiting for all along. She'd soon realize that she wasn't settling for second best. She was purging herself of doubt and guilt and welcoming the woman who would put her back together, heal her and protect her for the rest of their lives. Kicking off again, Emily returned, "You're an idiot."
Swatting the brunette as she swung past, Alison said, "You could at least wait a couple of days before calling your girlfriend names."
"I'm out of practice," Emily shrugged as she propelled herself further forward and higher into the air. The women's playful banter continued for a few more minutes as Emily mentally unwound from some of the most exposing minutes of her life. She'd known paralyzing pain, but never the vulnerability required to temper it. Glancing to her left, she smiled at the blonde throwing smirks her way in response to her snarky comments.
"What are you looking at?" Alison asked.
Emily responded with an unusual amount of butterflies crashing around in her chest, "My beautiful girlfriend." She added after the blonde smiled at the sweet response, "Who's an idiot."
I'm physically exhausted from writing this. Ha. I'm sure this explains why I wrote "Busted", which you should read if you want something more uplifting. Also, you could go read MysticalGoddessOfWords's "The T-Shirt". It'll also make you feel better.
Thank you so much for reading! I promise the next chapter won't be this heavy. No more intense emotions for awhile.