I curled up at the end of the couch, hugging my legs against my chest as I listened to her. It took every bit of willpower and strength I had to keep my body from moving towards her. In spite of myself, I desperately wanted to comfort her. I wanted to ease her pain at the expense of my own, but I didn’t allow myself to do it this time. I was the one who needed to be comforted. I was exhausted and just wanted to rest. I fell asleep to the sounds of her wails.
When I opened my eyes, it was dark and eerily quiet, all sounds and signals of the previous hours gone. It was still as if nothing had happened. Out of habit, I listened for sounds of her but heard none. I was calmer, and some of the pain had subsided. Things had changed in our world, but I was ready to meet the changes and make something good come out of our horrible fight. I had no idea I’d been that upset. All of my emotions from the last two years had come out during my tirade and even though I’d hurt her and felt bad about it, I felt better to have finally said all the things I’d been holding inside. She would understand once I explained it to her. I eased up slowly from my spot on the couch and tiptoed down the hallway in case she was asleep. I didn’t want to wake her. Right then all I wanted was to cuddle up next to her and fall back to sleep. We could talk through our fight tomorrow.
I saw light in the crack underneath the bathroom door. She shouldn’t have been in the bathroom in the middle of the night. There was only one reason she’d be in the bathroom this late and it wasn’t to use it the right way. For a second, I wanted to get angry again, but quickly pushed the feelings back down. I had to be there for her now.
I walked slowly down the hallway, preparing myself for the emotional mess I’d find Emily in. I reached the bathroom, took a deep breath to brace myself like I’d done so many times in the past, and opened the door. The scene flashed in front of me and burned into my brain like a Polaroid. I stood frozen in the doorway, unable to move.
Emily’s body lay crumpled up next to the toilet. Her carving kit lay splayed out on top of the toilet seat. Her legs were contorted like a deer that’d been hit by a car and left on the side of the road. Her arms encircled her head, her fingers digging into her hair. Brown puke was splattered everywhere. Tiny pink pills sprinkled her insides and lay spilled on the tiled floor. Her pale skin was blackened, covered in blues and purples as if she’d been beaten.
She wasn’t wearing pants. Just her yellow panties. And there was blood—the blood I’d expected to be there, but there’d never been so much. Her body lay in a pool of red.
I willed myself to move forward, the blood making my bare feet wet. I knelt down beside her, the vomit squishing against my knees. Her chest wasn’t moving. The air left my lungs. I grabbed her arm and pulled it away from her face, then let go. It slumped to the floor. Her arm was so cold. She’d never been cold before. Not like this.
I forced myself to look at her face. Her unblinking eyes were wide open, staring back at me. The green was gone and replaced with black marbles covered in a milky film staring through me. Her mouth was slightly open, brown vomit caked in the corners.
I felt her wrist, trying to grasp everything I was seeing but couldn’t comprehend. I felt for her pulse, but knew what I’d find before I touched her. Her lifeless skin revealed what my mind had already absorbed. She was dead and I had killed her. I threw myself on top of her body.
“No!” My scream rang out into the night.
6
Beeping. Machines whirring. Footsteps. Faraway voices. Whispers. Coughs.
I wanted to open my eyes but couldn’t. It was as if they’d been taped shut. Held down with something. My body felt heavy. Weighted as if I might be paralyzed. It felt like something heavier than me was lying on top of me, making it hard to breathe. I wiggled my toes. They moved and I was pleased they did. I tried to move my legs and couldn’t. They were being held down too. I tried to move my arms and then my body, but something was preventing the movements. I wanted to scream, but no words came out.
What’s going on? Where am I?
I was terrified. I had to break free. I struggled against whatever was holding me so tightly. Panic overtook me. I thrashed my body violently back and forth. My head was free. I shook it back and forth, side to side. It hurt.
Oh my God. It hurts.
And then it all ended.
Awake again. The only thing that separated wake from sleep was the sound of the machines and footsteps coming from outside myself. I struggled to open my eyes whenever I woke, but my efforts were useless each time.
I want to see. I want to know.
I tried to concentrate. Focus. Failed. I had to sleep.
Emily.
My first thought when I returned to the world.
Emily.
I wanted to call for her. I wanted to scream for her in this world of darkness. I tried to scream, but her name locked in my throat. There was something in my throat blocking her name from coming out.
I can’t stay here. I won’t. Emily.
Sleep was easy.
Images blurred in front of my eyes. Everything melted together, moving in one image. I squinted.
Concentrate. Focus.
There was a doorway. A frame. Hazy white in a halo of yellow. I looked down at my body and saw a white blanket and the metal rails of a hospital bed. There was a sink across the room in front of me. A closet next to it. The beeps were coming from machines with wires leading into my body. I couldn’t see where they were planted, but they were neat and organized as they wound their way into me, performing unknown functions.
I’m in a hospital and Emily is dead.
All my mind would let me see when I opened my eyes was her small lifeless body on our bathroom floor. I didn’t want to see it anymore. I wanted to return to the world of sleep and didn’t care if I woke again.
But I did. Too quickly. This time when I opened my eyes and performed a search of my surroundings there was a hand covering mine. The fingernails chewed down to nubs. I followed it up to Thomas’s brown curly hair lying on his arm, resting on the side of the bed. I moved my head and he snapped his head up.
“Elizabeth? Oh my God! Elizabeth!” He bent down and started kissing me all over my forehead and my cheeks. “I’m calling the nurse.” He pushed a button on my bed.
I tried to speak but couldn’t. My tongue felt like sandpaper. I tried again. My voice cracked as I spoke. “What’s going on?” It came out in a croaky whisper.
Thomas’s eyes darted back and forth across the room, lingering on the doorway. He rubbed his nose. Then rubbed it again. “I um … I um … it’s … that, well … I think we should wait for your doctor.”
“Just tell me. Why am I in the hospital?” My throat was on fire.
“You … you … I—”
Before he could get the words unstuck, a nurse entered the room.
“She’s awake.” He jumped up from his chair next to the bed.
The nurse had a plump round face that rolled easily into a smile. She began checking all of the machines next to me methodically.
“She’s asking me questions,” Thomas spoke softly, directing his statement to the nurse as if I wasn’t there.
“I’ll page the doctor immediately. He can answer all of her questions,” she said, nodding at him.
I couldn’t stand the way they were talking about me as if I wasn’t in the same room, lying on the bed in front of them. I wanted to scream that I didn’t want the doctor. All I wanted was Emily and she was gone. A cry slipped past my lips. It came out sounding like a moan. The nurse put her hand on my forehead.
“How are you feeling?”
I turned away from her. Cries were coming from my lips, but the tears to accompany them were frozen. Thomas rushed back to my side, his face lined with concern and heavy dark circles underneath his eyes. He looked worse than he did during finals week.
“Emily,” I croaked.
He nodded, swallowing hard. He stroked my hair.
“Emily,” I said again.
�
�I know. I know,” he whispered. “I understand.”
His tears splashed on my arm. I shook my head and closed my eyes. No, he didn’t understand. He had no idea.
“Elizabeth. Elizabeth.” A deep unfamiliar voice startled me awake again.
This time when I opened my eyes, both Thomas and the nurse were gone. I was in the same room. Same bed. Next to my bed stood a short, overweight man with thick, curly black hair and matching facial hair. It looked like it’d been several days since he last shaved. He wore a gray collared shirt with a matching tie.
“I’m Dr. Larson,” he said, stretching out his hand to shake mine, which I could barely lift to meet his. His hands engulfed mine. I’d never met a doctor who wore a suit.
“This has all got to be very confusing for you, so we’re going to take it really slow. Do you know where you are?”
Of course I knew I was in a hospital, but I didn’t respond. Nothing mattered. I hoped he was going to tell me I was dying.
“You’re at Kennedy Memorial Hospital. Here in Galston. It’s Tuesday afternoon at three thirty. What is the last thing you remember?”
The last thing I remembered was killing her. She was so cold.
“Emily.”
Maybe if I kept saying her name, calling out for her, I would open my eyes in our bedroom and she’d be lying next to me, shaking me awake from a bad dream.
“What’s the last thing you remember about Emily?” he asked, peering down at me with inquisitive eyes.
“Her body. The bathroom. I found her. She was … she was …” My voice stopped. I couldn’t bring myself to say the words. They didn’t fit in my mouth.
He grabbed a small notebook along with a pen from his pocket and wrote something down.
“That day was a week ago. You’ve been in the hospital for seven days, and we’ve been treating you here. You were in intensive care for the first three days. The last four days you’ve spent in this room.” He paused, giving his words a chance to sink in.
Intensive care? I was in intensive care?
“You made a very serious attempt to end your life.”
End my life? He meant suicide. I didn’t remember doing, it but of course I had. She was dead because of me and there was no way I could live without her. I knew it a week ago and I knew it now.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
I shook my head. I wanted him to leave my room. To go away so I could return to sleep. Nothing mattered now. I wanted to die with her. My sister was gone and I was still here.
“Okay. I understand you feel that way right now. I’m sure you’ve got lots of confusing emotions going on and we’ll take the talking real slow. There’s no rush.”
He was still looking at me intently, searching for some kind of answer in my face. I wanted him to stop.
“We’re going to have you transferred to the fifth floor tomorrow morning. You’ll have your own room, but you’ll be surrounded by other people with similar problems. We need to give you a safe place where you can process this situation.”
A situation? That’s what he was calling losing the only person in my life who ever meant anything to me—not to mention that I was responsible for it?
“We’ll talk more tomorrow. I think you’ve had all you can handle for the day,” he said. “I’ll meet with you once you’re checked into the fifth floor tomorrow, but the nurse will page me if you need anything from me before then.”
He left the room quietly and I was glad, but my relief was short-lived because as soon as he left, Dalila and Thomas appeared in the doorway. She looked worse than she had when she’d found Emily in the bathtub with blood pouring down her legs, and I didn’t think she could ever look worse than that. I hadn’t forgotten the look of pain in her eyes when she discovered her, as if Emily had stabbed Dalila instead of herself. Dalila had cried for three days and barely spoken. She’d broken out in a rash then, and the same rash covered her now—red, scaly patches of a stress-induced psoriasis breakout. Her eyes were puffy and swollen. She was unsteady on her feet and Thomas guided her towards me. It was as if she’d aged ten years since I’d seen her last. Seeing her pain made losing Emily more real and I had to look away.
“Hey, sweetie,” she said with a forced smile on her face, trying to be strong for me despite her own loss. Big tears were in her eyes. She leaned over and kissed my forehead. “We’ve been praying night and day for you. I think I’ve even been praying in my sleep.” The tears rolled down her cheeks. “I couldn’t stand the thought of losing both of you.”
She sobbed, her shoulders trembling. I looked away. It was too hard to see her so raw, in so much agony. Thomas came around to the other side of my bed and grabbed my hand. I pulled it away. I didn’t want to be touched. These two people loved me and a week ago I’d loved them too, but it felt like a lifetime ago. They could’ve been strangers to me if I didn’t recognize their faces.
My twin was dead, which meant I was only half-alive, and the intensity of the loss screamed at me, shattering every wall I’d built over the years to keep myself strong. The space she occupied within me was immense and limitless, and the loss of her left an empty, aching void inside of me that could never be replaced with anyone else’s love. Not Thomas’s or Dalila’s. No one’s.
Her death surrounded me, punishing me for not being there or doing enough to keep her alive. The weight of it was unbearable and never going to go away. Never going to get better. It didn’t matter how much they loved me or how much they prayed. Without Emily, the cord that connected me to the world was severed. I couldn’t live without her.
“What do you remember?” Dalila asked after she regained her composure.
I told her the same thing I’d told the doctor. “Emily.”
She sighed, “What do you remember about that night, honey?”
“I remember that I’m the one who killed her,” I said.
“But, Elizabeth, you know that’s not—”
Thomas cut in, “Remember what Dr. Larson said?”
The two of them stared at each other for a long time, engaged in a silent war of words.
“You were not responsible for Emily’s death, Elizabeth,” Dalila said.
She leaned forward to kiss my forehead again, but I turned away because I couldn’t bear it. I didn’t deserve her expressions of love when I’d failed Emily and let her die. I’d failed her too by not being able to save Emily even though she’d never admit it. For a moment, she looked stricken, but her shock faded to the same dejected look I’d come to know so well. For a moment, I wanted to say something to comfort her, do something to reach out to her, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I was engulfed in my own suffering.
“You know that, honey, don’t you?”
I didn’t want to answer. Of course it was my fault. She was only saying it to try to make me feel better.
“I’ve got to work tonight, so Dalila’s going to stay with you,” Thomas said.
“I don’t want anyone to stay with me.”
“Are you sure?” Dalila asked. She swallowed hard, desperately trying to keep it together for me.
I nodded. “I’m tired.”
“It’s just, the thought of you being up here all alone. It just—” She stopped herself. “But certainly. You have to rest. I’ll be here tomorrow after they move you.”
Thomas piped up, “Me too. I’ll come as soon as I finish class.” He looked into my eyes, searching for some kind of clue as to how he was supposed to act. I looked away and he leaned down to give me an awkward sideways hug, careful not to tug on any of the wires attached to me. I patted his back stiffly. I stared at him as he left, surprised he could smile. I was never going to smile again.
“I’ll wait for you outside,” he said to Dalila.
“I love you, darling. And so does Bob. He couldn’t get away from the factory today, but he’s been up here as much as me and Thomas. By the way, he absolutely adores Thomas. He’s been so helpful throughout all of this. I’m sorry we hav
e to meet him under these circumstances, but I’m so glad we did. I can’t believe you never mentioned him before. Maybe when you’re feeling better, you can tell me the story of how you guys met. You know how much I adore love stories.” She waited to see if I would respond.
I had to give her something. “Sure.”
She smiled and the lines in her face eased for a second. “Great.” She fluffed the pillows behind me. “Bob is going to be so happy to know you’re awake. I could’ve told him if I could reach him while he’s at work, but you know how he is about carrying a cell phone. Maybe someday I can get him to move into the twenty-first century. He’s going to be so disappointed that he didn’t get to be here today.”
“It’s fine,” I assured her.
Bob was one less person trying to touch me and reach out to me in this place.
“I’m going to call Lisa when I leave and let her know you’re awake. She’s been visiting, too. She’s been a huge help for us through all of this. I don’t know how we would ever manage without her.” Dalila brushed my hair back from my face. “It’s going to be okay. It really is. You’ll get through this. You will.” Her big blue eyes were wet again. “You’re so strong. You’ve always been so strong.”
I was never going to be okay. There was no getting through this.
I closed my eyes and pretended to sleep, hoping she’d leave. She watched me for several minutes, and when she was convinced I was sleeping, she tiptoed out the door. I opened my eyes into the stark white bleakness that comprises every hospital room, the stale air, tainted only with the smell of alcohol to mask the smell of sickness. I pushed the button for the nurse. She appeared quickly, a different nurse from the one who came before when Thomas pushed the button.
“Can you give me something to sleep?”
“Sure.” She left and returned with two small pink pills and a glass of water. My throat screamed as I swallowed them. I closed my eyes and was momentarily comforted—sleep was coming.
Phantom Limb: A Gripping Psychological Thriller Page 6