by Sam Crescent
Someone had sat their ass on this very toilet seat at one time, and he had his face to it. He was practically kissing another man or woman’s ass.
He didn’t have the energy to get up and move.
“This is pitiful.”
He turned his head to see her.
She wasn’t real.
He’d seen her dead body.
Yet, Carla, seventeen-year-old, sweet, smiling Carla, sat on the edge of the bathtub as if she was very much alive.
“What are you doing here?” he asked.
“You tell me. You’re the reason I’m here.”
“I’m hallucinating. That’s what this is.”
Carla sighed. “And yet, I’m still here. Clearly, you like thinking of me, sweetheart.”
“Axton was right.”
She winced. “I didn’t imagine you’d say that out loud.”
“You’re here, like, a ghost, and I’m over a toilet. It’s the only thing that makes sense.”
“You’re concerned by what this all means, rather than wondering why it is you thought of me as someone to talk to in your moment of need. That is crazy talk.”
“You’re dead.”
“I know. I remember.”
Now this was all a little too much, and he couldn’t handle it.
Getting to his feet, he felt the sickness in his mouth, and quickly washed it out with water.
“Here you go panicking. You need to calm down. You really do.”
“I don’t want to talk about anything right now.” He splashed water on his face. “I’ve got to get out of here.”
“So you’re going to run. Isn’t that what you always do? When the going gets tough, Easton starts running or in your case, drinking. The drugs were a rebel step, I’ll give you that. I didn’t see it coming.”
“You’re in my imagination. It means the only person I’m really seeing is myself.”
“I know. You’re talking to yourself, and I’m the voice of reason still. What does that tell you?” She stood up, putting hands on her hips and walking toward him.
“I visit your grave.”
“Again, we’re one and the same, and I know.”
“Why are you here?” he asked.
In all the years since her death, he’d not seen her. Not like this. In the moments of drink, he was sure she was close by, but he’d always been so drunk.
“I’m a figment of your imagination, Easton. You tell me why I’m here.”
“I don’t know.”
“I’m guessing I’m here for you to talk to. If you remember when we were younger you were always able to talk to me. You know you could keep all of your secrets with me.”
“Secrets that nearly cost me everything. You put everything down in a diary.”
“I was a girl. I was falling in love and with a guy I knew I shouldn’t trust, and yet, I was doing it. You can hate me all you want. You can even hate Axton, but deep down, you know he’s right about this. About you getting well.”
“He’s fucking your friend, you know. Taylor.”
“Good for her.”
He shook his head. “I can’t believe I’m having a conversation like this.” He knew she wasn’t there. There was no way for her to be there, and yet, here he was, still talking to her. He was going fucking crazy. There was no other word for it.
“You know you’ve got to do this, right? The only reason I’m here is because of all of this. Axton’s right, and it’s killing you to know that your best friend may be right about anything. He always is.”
“I’ve got this all under control.”
“Ding-ding, guess what, you haven’t. Someone who has it under control doesn’t drink two bottles of whiskey. Someone who has it under control doesn’t go out and buy drugs, hoping to score the next high. You’re so far from being under control that you can’t even see it.”
“And this is better for me? Imagining and having full-blown conversations with my dead girlfriend?”
“Ex-girlfriend. I’m dead, and we are so not going out.”
Easton gripped the back of his head, rubbing up and down. “Do you ever think about it? What it would have been like?”
“I know you do. I know you think about it at least once every single day. You wonder if you loved me enough to make me happy, for us to be happy. I know more than anything you think about the baby. You want to be a dad more than anything. Axton, he’s living a dream for you. I also know you think about her, and the thought is so fleeting, but it’s there.”
He pressed his hands against his face, trying to calm himself the fuck down, but nothing was happening.
Nothing was … giving him focus.
This was all just too much.
“And because you think about her so much, it makes the pain and guilt you feel just a little harder to bear. She’s alive. I’m not.”
“Stop it.”
“You’re the one controlling this, Easton. Not me. I’m simply voicing to you what you’re thinking. What you don’t want to think about so you drink. So you try to create the oblivion your mind won’t let you have.” She shrugged. “You can hate me all you want, but it’s the truth. You’ve got to let it go and realize what Axton wants for you is what is right.”
“I need a drink.”
He didn’t leave his room. The last thing he wanted to do was to have imaginary Carla following him around.
“If what you’re saying is me, then why do you sound like her? Why does it feel like you’re here?” he asked, collapsing to the bed.
“You know all those answers, Easton. You’ve just got to be willing to listen to them.” Carla lay down beside him, and he turned his head.
He would spend hours on her bed like this, staring at her. She always made him smile and feel calm. There was never any judgment in her eyes.
This was how he remembered her.
Happy. Calm. Sweet. Gentle. Everything he missed about her.
The pregnancy had been a big mistake, but he’d promised to take care of her.
“I miss you.”
“I know, but we also know it’s not enough.” She reached out, and as she put her hand against his face, he didn’t feel anything.
Because she wasn’t there.
This wasn’t real.
He was a drunk who had a whole lot of problems and really needed to figure it out for himself.
Chapter Two
“It’s not that hard to do. You say, ‘Hi, I’m Easton, and I drink way too much,’” Carla said.
Easton’s imaginary friend came and went. Whenever he left his room, she magically disappeared, but when he was alone, it was like he thought her into being. She’d either be standing in a corner, or sitting on a counter. He went to the bathroom yesterday, and there she’d been, sat on the counter near the sink. He hadn’t told anyone he was imagining his dead ex-girlfriend.
She was some company in this place.
He’d stayed by himself for the most part, taking his meals alone and just trying to get through the program.
The sickness, the shaking, and the withdrawal weren’t fun. Not even a little.
Much to his surprise, in order to wean his body off the alcohol, they had to give him just a little, to slowly draw him out of his addiction.
While they were doing that, he was having to train his mind not to drink.
Not to do anything.
Throughout it all, Carla was there.
“Your friends are coming for a visit today,” Carla said.
“I know.”
“You excited?”
“Yes. The prospect of sitting in a room full of my friends as they know how fucking weak I am is thrilling. Not to mention, I’ve spent the best part of a week speaking to a girl from my past that we all know died.”
“You’re not in the best of moods.”
He sat down on the edge of the bed. “No, I’m not.”
“It’s going to be okay though. They’re your friends for a reason.”
“We’re
not friends.”
“You don’t really mean that.”
“I do. We were all forced together, but we’re not friends.”
Carla sat beside him and tucked her hair behind her ear. He remembered her doing that so many times. Her hair was always too long, and he missed seeing her do that.
“They are your friends. If not, they wouldn’t care if you’re an addict or not. You’re here because even if you don’t feel it, they do care in their own way.”
“This is the most I’ve talked to anyone in a really long time.”
“How come?”
“I … I don’t know. Talking is not exactly my talent.”
She laughed. “It doesn’t have to be your talent, Easton. You got to learn to let things go.”
There was a knock on his door.
He turned toward it just as a nurse entered.
“Your visitors are here.”
“I’m coming.”
Trying to discreetly see if Carla was still there, he turned his head, looking over his room. There was no sign of her.
Getting to his feet, he followed the nurse out of the room, and for the first time since arriving at the center, he felt nervous.
There was a separate area for visitors.
Axton had paid for a private room, and as he entered, he saw Axton was sitting with Taylor beside him. Karson and Romeo were also paying a visit.
“Look at you,” Karson said.
He was embraced by Karson and then by Romeo, who each slapped him on his back.
“You always did tell me they were the brutes of the club,” Carla said.
He looked over Axton’s shoulder, and Carla was in the corner, smiling. He wasn’t going to freak out.
“Well, how is it going?” Karson asked.
“Good. Good. I’m still alive.”
“You’ve not tried to sign yourself out yet, so that’s good,” Axton said.
“Now I totally understand why you want to kick his ass. Look at the guy. He has it all. The looks, the wife, and look at Taylor, she is so beautiful. I always knew she would be in high school.”
He tried not to think of what Carla was saying. “There’s no point in trying something unless I’m going to do it properly.” He had no idea what he was saying. Carla started to laugh, but he didn’t look over Axton’s shoulder.
Taking a seat, he offered Taylor a smile.
“I didn’t agree to their methods,” she said. “Does it hurt?” She pointed at his face.
“A little, but there was no other way of getting me here right, and I need to.”
“You could ask Taylor to look her up. I bet she would love to.”
“So, what’s new?” he asked.
“You’re seriously going to pretend I don’t exist right now? You want to go and meet this woman. Why not ask Taylor? She’s my best friend; she’d understand.”
He tried to drown out Carla.
Axton was talking about a new deal Paul was working on, and he really didn’t care.
The truth was, he wanted to know a bit more about another kind of woman, and he couldn’t ask Taylor.
It was a stupid idea even thinking about it, let alone listening to Carla tell him to use Taylor.
“What’s going on in here? Have you banged anyone yet?” Romeo asked.
“Ew, why do you have to go there?” Taylor asked.
“Because it must be boring.”
Easton looked over Axton’s shoulder, and Carla gave him a wink. Taylor caught him looking, and he just forced a smile.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m more than fine.”
“Taylor’s always been a worrier. I always talked about her, remember? She must hate me for that. You know her better than Axton does by now. You know her little revenge would never have lasted. She was angry, hurt, upset, but above all else, she couldn’t hurt anyone else. Well, she could have pissed them off, and it made her very obsessive, but she would have seen the truth.”
Carla liked to talk about Taylor a lot. The revelation of her trying to bring them all down didn’t fit with the girl he once knew. The girl Carla would talk about all the time. He didn’t mind as it meant she wasn’t asking him endless questions.
Taylor was a good girl pretending to be a bad one, and what he could respect was her desire for justice. When you lose a loved one, who wouldn’t want that?
It didn’t work for her, and now she was married to Axton, and pregnant.
“You’re following the program?” Axton asked.
“I’m doing it. I’m going to get clean.” Easton thought about the drugs in his desk. He ran a hand down his face, to try to stop the shame from rushing over him. When he purchased those drugs, he had every intention of using them, whereas now, he didn’t know what the hell to do anymore. “I didn’t use them.”
“What?” Karson asked.
“The drugs. I didn’t use them. They were there just in case.”
“Did you have any intention of using them?” Romeo asked.
“Yes.” Part of his program was to tell the truth. He glanced over at Carla, who had a raised brow, before looking at Taylor. He couldn’t say anything, not yet.
Even though he knew he should tell someone he was talking to his dead ex-girlfriend, he just couldn’t bring himself to … let her go.
What if they made him take something, or wanted him to talk about his feelings? It was hard enough talking about them now with Carla, let alone a complete stranger.
“Are you okay?” Taylor asked.
“Of course he’s not okay. Look at him. He’s in a rehab center because his life is falling apart and it’s all his fault.” Carla smiled at him.
The Carla he remembered wouldn’t have been such a fucking bitch to him. She’d have cut him some slack.
“The Carla you knew is not the one you see today. We’ve gone over this already. You and I both know, I’m you. This here is all you. The only way you can deal with the truth is because it’s me telling you and not you.”
He was going crazy.
This wasn’t normal and it wasn’t right for him, but for the first time in his life, he didn’t feel alone. Even if he was seeing Carla.
“I’m going to stick to the program. I’m not going to stop. I won’t let you down.” He looked at each of his friends in turn before looking at Taylor.
The guilt hit him again as she offered him a smile.
“How is the … erm, pregnancy?”
She put a hand to her stomach. “Fine so far. I’m always sick, but I hear that’s normal.”
“I read about it, and yes, it’s quite normal.”
“When did you read about it?” she asked, with a laugh.
“Carla,” he said. “Before she was killed, I had some time to read on it.” He stood up. “I need to get back to my room. I’ve got lots to do.”
“You have a busy schedule here?”
“Yes, and now I really need to get back to it. Lots to do. People to see. Rules to follow.” He held his hand out to Axton. “Thank you.”
“I bet that one hurt you.”
“I appreciate you bringing me down here.”
“You’re like a brother to me, Easton. No matter what, we’ve got your back.”
He shook Karson and Romeo’s hands, and turned to Taylor. “I’m going to head back.”
Taylor gave him a hug. “She’d be so proud of you.”
He tensed up.
“He doesn’t care what I’d think.”
“I’ve got to go.” Regardless of how leaving made him look, he rushed from the room, only stopping when he’d closed his own door and collapsed against it.
“Well, I thought that went rather well.”
“I shouldn’t be seeing you.” He turned toward Carla, who was now sitting on his bed. “Anyone else, I’d tell them to get their brains tested.”
“True. You’re a drunk, a potential addict, a loser in the making. Yeah, add weirdo to the mix. No one would need a reason to throw you in a c
ell and toss the key away.”
He walked to the bed and collapsed down on it, where Carla was. Seeing as she wasn’t there, he settled himself more comfortably on the bed.
“You know, we could talk about her. You rarely allow yourself the chance to think about her,” Carla said.
“I’m not talking about anything. I just want to sleep.”
“That’s up to you, but you know I’m here.”
He rolled over, staring up at his ceiling. The color white was so off-putting to him. He didn’t like it. Wrinkling his nose, he glanced over to Carla. She was now lying on her back, her hands on her stomach. This was how she would lie when they were younger. When he was younger as she was still the same age.
“I really liked her, which surprised me. I didn’t even intend to find anyone else. I just wanted to have a break. You know, take the time to forget about you, and everything that had happened. It was Axton’s idea for me to get away, to detach from it all. So I took the chance. It was a camp of some kind. I was only there for three weeks. Not long enough to make an impression of any kind, but long enough that I’ve not stopped thinking about her. I went back there a year later, but there were no signs of her. It was like she’d vanished without a trace.”
“Why didn’t you look for her? She gave you her name.”
“No, she gave me one name. One name that could have thousands of possible names, and at the time my dad was breathing down my neck. I couldn’t go anywhere without him waiting for me to fuck up. So, I gave her up. The three weeks we had, I’ve cherished.” He rubbed at his temples, feeling the beginning of a headache.
“This is the first time you’ve spoken about her?”
“Yes. The guys don’t know about her. I didn’t want to tell them anything of what I experienced those three weeks. They sent me there to get over you, and during that time, it was where I realized, I didn’t need to. I didn’t want you to die, Carla, but I also knew that I didn’t love you. I didn’t even know what love was.”
“You can’t keep living in the past.”
He snorted.
“Here I am, talking to you, and you’re not even real. I don’t know what the hell to do anymore. I’m twenty-nine years old and a fuck-up. How did it get like this?” he asked.
“I’d say you spent too much time moaning about what has happened. This isn’t you, and you need to stop feeling guilty for stuff you can’t control. Who cares if you hate that Axton is right all the time? Who cares that you’re in here? You’re in here, and you know what? It means you can have a second chance. There are not that many people who get this chance and you have it. Stop wasting it.”