Reality's Illusion

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Reality's Illusion Page 27

by Stephie Walls


  “Sir, to help you, I need you to tell me where you are and what’s going on.”

  I began to sob, shuddering from the intense cold; my teeth chattered. “We’re on the river bank under the Main Street Bridge. She fell in. I searched. I tried.” I rambled. “Please send someone to help me, please.” The words lodged in my throat, choking me, knowing I might have been too late.

  “Sir, I need you to calm down so you can help your friend. I’m dispatching an ambulance now. Do you know CPR?”

  I hated myself for never learning. Hell, I hadn’t even listened in health class when they’d taught it in high school.

  “Sir, do you know how to do CPR?”

  “No!”

  The voice on the other end of the line walked me through the steps, and I followed her instructions letter by letter. Nothing.

  “It’s not fucking working!” I wailed into the empty night sky.

  The operator urged me to continue until EMS arrived. I breathed into Sera’s mouth and compressed her chest endlessly. But my compressions were weak and my breaths not much better—the fatigue was too great. I hadn’t restarted her heart, but I hadn’t quit, either. Straddling her wet, lifeless body, I tried to bring her life back.

  “Damn it, Sera—Fucking breathe! Don’t you leave me, goddammit! Breathe!”

  The operator’s voice continued in the background, but nothing she said registered. The sirens in the distance were foggy, a figment of my imagination—no one could rescue me from this hell.

  Abruptly, men surrounded me, all carrying equipment and encouraging me out of the way. I moved to the side to allow them to work, suddenly aware of myself again. One of the EMTs brought me a blanket. After he’d wrapped me up, he tried to escort me to an ambulance as we huddled under a large umbrella.

  “I can’t leave her.” I shook my head, refusing to turn away from Sera. “I’m the only one fighting for her.”

  “You have to let us do our job, sir.”

  I didn’t budge. The man would have to physically remove me if he insisted I leave her side. I willingly moved far enough away to enable them to work but not far enough that Sera was out of sight.

  Ignoring the EMT’s suggestion to get out of the rain before I got hypothermia, I stood, waiting, hoping she’d cough, or throw up—show some sign of life. The guy beside me was talking, but I couldn’t focus on him. If I saw any movement, I’d know she was still there.

  “Sir!” he yelled in my ear.

  I turned my head sharply. “What the fuck do you want?” I was angry and unforgiving, emphatic.

  “I need to know how long she was in the water.” He had to be fucking kidding me.

  “I have no fucking clue. I didn’t check my watch before diving in after her.” Sarcasm wasn’t going to save Sera. I shook my head and closed my eyes, trying to wrap my mind around what the fuck was happening. Opening my lids, I faced him, and I tried to answer, to help, to do anything other than just witnessing her death. “I don’t know, man. I have no idea. I don’t even know what time it was when I left my house, chasing after her.”

  “Would you say it was longer than two minutes?” His solemn look told me the answer to this question was critical.

  I nodded as I choked back a sob.

  “Longer than five?”

  Fuck, I didn’t know. It seemed like hours from the time Sera had jumped in until I got in behind her. Being in the water seemed an eternity. I knew, in my heart, it was longer than five minutes, although I was reluctant to admit it.

  “Yeah.” In that moment, that very second, the instant I uttered that one syllable, I’d conceded Sera was gone.

  Falling to my knees, I screamed at the god who had let me down, again. I bellowed in anguish, for love lost, to a god who takes and takes, leaving nothing but suffering in his wake. In utter defeat, my forehead in the dirt, and I released six years of pain into the universe, cursing nature for giving and taking with no rhyme or reason. Wracked with sobs, desperate to catch my breath, I heaved over and over onto the ground next to my dead angel.

  With nothing left to expel, I laid on my side, staring at the black tarp that now covered her lifeless body.

  The rain continued to pour, but the sky was now illuminated by red, white, and blue flashing lights. Never in my life had I hated the colors of this country until now. The never-ending kaleidoscope bombarded my sight.

  Despite the commotion that surrounded me, the world played on mute. I stretched out my arm, finding Sera’s hand, and I clutched it tightly.

  There, I apologized for not being enough, not realizing sooner how dark she had gotten. I expressed my sorrow for not seeing the depths of her pain for fear of invading her privacy. I begged for her forgiveness as I was loaded onto a backboard and pulled away from my Seraphim for the last time.

  The lights inside the ambulance were a brilliant white in contrast to the black night. Closing my eyes, I fell into obscurity, hoping never to wake, begging the darkness to be the end, to allow my suffering to stop.

  The cops were doing their job, but answering their questions while I laid in a hospital bed was the last thing I wanted to do. I wasn't overly cooperative, but surely they understood. I’d just pulled someone I cared about out of a cold river and lost her on that bank—someone I loved. I’d born witness to Sera ending her life. I’d felt the blackness of that river; the cold was etched into my brain. I would never unsee her blue body, the way death had greyed her beautiful skin, dimmed her bright green irises. Her bloated body and bulging eyes would forever haunt me the way Sylvie did.

  “We just need to ask you a few more questions before we go.”

  “Does it really matter if this takes place tonight or tomorrow when they let me out of here?” I couldn’t help but lash out. “She’s dead. She’s not coming back, and she’s not going anywhere.” I glared at the uniformed men in front of me. “Surely, your questions can wait until my ass cheeks are no longer frozen together and my teeth have stopped chattering.” Looking away from the officers, I stared at a blank spot on a stark wall.

  “Mr. Thames, an officer will be back to pick you up when the hospital releases you.”

  Waving him off, what he’d implied didn’t dawn on me until after he'd left. I couldn’t bring myself to give a shit that I’d be detained for questioning the moment I left here.

  Several hours later, I woke to a nurse in my room, checking my vitals. Her morose smile told me she was aware of what had taken place during the night.

  “How long before the cops come to get me?”

  She patted me on the arm and tried to reassure me. “You’ll be here at least forty-eight hours. Hypothermia isn’t something to play around with. While yours was mild, we still need to keep an eye on you and make sure your core temperature stays elevated and there’s nothing erratic going on with your heart.” She waited for my questions, but I had none. “Are you hungry?”

  I shook my head.

  “How about something to drink?”

  No again. I appreciated her willingness to make me comfortable, but nothing she could bring me would remove last night from the calendar. There wasn’t a meal or beverage in the world that would take the agony away or even diminish it.

  And two days later, the hospital discharged me into the custody of the Greenville Police Department. The guy was nice enough, but it was evident he wasn’t sure if he should be sympathetic or condemning. Silence seemed to be the choice he went with as he escorted me into a small room inside the station and offered me a cup of coffee.

  I didn’t want shit but to be left alone, but he went to get one for himself. And when he returned, he did so with a recording device, pen, and paper, and another deputy.

  They confirmed what I already knew: Sera was pronounced dead on the scene. They were unable to resuscitate her, and based on how long she had been in the water, there was no chance her brain would ever regain function even if her heart had.

  I waited for them to continue, not sure of what they believed I could
offer. I couldn’t resurrect her.

  “How well did you know Seraphim, Bastian?”

  My shoulders rose and fell. “We’ve been good friends for about a year, I guess.”

  “Just friends?”

  I didn’t like the condescension in his voice, but being an ass in return wasn’t going to get me out of here any sooner. The fact was that I was too weary to fight.

  “Yes, sir. Just friends. I loved her, but she was in a relationship with someone else from the time we met.” I offered him a bone to show my cooperation, even though I wanted to rip his face off and gouge out his eyes.

  “Any idea where all those bruises came from?”

  I quickly debated ratting out Ferry. Had he not beaten her repeatedly, she might still be here whole, but I also knew where that would get me in the newspapers.

  “I would say you guys should check with the county about recent reports. I’m sure you’ll find the name you’re looking for there.” I leaned back, wondering what the fuck these guys had been doing for two days. This was all information they could have ascertained without bothering me.

  “How well do you know Ferry Koops?” Tweedle Dummer chimed in.

  So they had done their homework; they were just looking for me to collaborate their story since the accuser was now deceased.

  “Until recently, I would have claimed him as a friend, certainly colleagues. We’ve worked together on several projects, but I’m sure you know that since it was all over the papers each time a new one was released.”

  Resigned to the fact that I wasn’t getting out of here until I gave them the information they were after, I told them what little I knew. The reality was, I had never seen Ferry and Sera together. I couldn’t confirm or deny his involvement in her life based on firsthand knowledge or an eye-witness account. All I had was her version of events, which she’d never admitted to before last night. I could confirm they knew each other because we were all artists, but beyond the casual acquaintance, I was unable to provide them with any firm account. I admitted to having seen Ferry’s camera in her car, so at some point, they were undoubtedly together enough for it to be left in her possession.

  They were disappointed with how little I had to offer.

  And once they’d exhausted their questions and me, they released me to Nate. I had no idea how he’d gotten here or who had called him.

  “We’ll be in touch if we have any further questions, Mr. Thames. Most likely, you will be called to testify.”

  I gave the guy a chin lift and followed Nate out the door.

  Nate escorted me into the house, and without a word, he closed the door behind him. I walked straight to the shower, stripping off my clothes. I stood under the scalding water, hoping to rid myself of the chill that hadn’t left me since I’d jumped into the river. It had rooted itself in my bones…down to my very core.

  When the hot water was gone, so was my will to stand. I walked naked to my bed, dropping my lifeless body onto the mattress.

  Nate blocked the bedroom door. “You want me to stick around?”

  “You want to watch me sleep?”

  “I’ll be back later. If you need me, call. Your cell’s on the nightstand. I charged it when they gave me your shit.”

  “Yeah. Thanks.”

  “Hey, Bastian?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m still here, man. Don’t leave me again.”

  Swallowing the lump in my throat, I nodded my understanding. Nate didn’t need me to vocalize anything. He knew I’d heard him, and he felt my sorrow because that’s who Nate was.

  Tapping his hand on the doorframe, he muttered, “Yeah.” Then he lingered, hesitating to leave. “I’ll be back.”

  23

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  I stared at the ceiling I’d spent so many years studying after Sylvie had died. Every intake of breath hurt. The place in my chest where my heart should be, screamed in agony each second it continued to beat. Not even the solitude found in sleep eliminated the distress anymore. Sera’s face horrified me as soon as I closed my eyes—the blank stare from her dull eyes. That vacant look haunted me every waking moment, and nothing alleviated it.

  If only I had run a little faster, maybe if I hadn’t taken the time to put on jeans before chasing her, maybe if I hadn’t taken them off before I dove in…. Every second counted, and I wasted the precious few we had.

  Endless obsession.

  It was far worse than anything I’d ever felt with Sylvie. There was nothing I could’ve done to save my wife. Her cancer wasn’t a mistake I’d made, but Sera was a different story. I hadn’t been valiant enough to confront her, I hadn’t been courageous enough to make sure she knew someone loved her, and I had allowed her to get drunk, knowing how fragile she was. I gave her the security to trust nothing would happen to her, and for fuck’s sake, I had let her walk out my front fucking door, completely inebriated, to her fucking death.

  Incessant thoughts.

  They played on repeat.

  Living hell.

  I wondered if she had been aware of the choice she’d made, then I contemplated whether her decision would have been different had she been sober. I’d spent hours meditating on what went through her mind as the water took over, if she was in any physical pain, or if she’d simply given in to it.

  Torture.

  I would never have an answer to this—only blame and gut-wrenching guilt. I would forever feel the weight of my inability to man the fuck up and guide her the way she had needed to be led.

  Had I been able to assume the leadership role she needed, even if it hadn’t been in a BDSM capacity, had she seen me as a dominant figure, maybe she would have seen me as a choice. Maybe she could have loved me the way I loved her. I mauled myself with mental abuse: should have; would have; could have, but didn’t. The anger and frustration far superseded anything I’d ever experienced, and I had no idea how to manage it, and parts of me didn’t care.

  The majority of me didn’t give a shit.

  The tornado of emotion that brewed inside was going to meet the world at a category five, and I had no idea how to stop it.

  My head rolled to the side, eyes landing on The Seraphim. Tears flooded my eyes, raced down my cheek, and pooled on the sheets. I’d never cried as much as I had in the last two days. The reality of Sylvie’s death had been numbing. However, there was no word to describe the anguish, affliction, and melancholy Sera’s passing had brought. I rolled off the side of the bed and managed to sit on the edge, facing the statue where I traced her delicate features with the pad of my thumb, stopping on her cheek.

  I admired the pain, the desolation, the solidarity of the stone angel.

  God, I missed her.

  Nate stopped by with food, but I refused to leave my bed. “We can’t do this again, Bastian. You have to get up. I’m not going to let you drown in grief.”

  “Fuck off, Nate.”

  “No! Fuck that, Bastian. I fought for five fucking years to get you back to the land of the living. You are not resurfacing in purgatory.”

  “What’s the point? Nothing is ever going to change. The pain is never going to leave. It might be dull, but it’s always there. And now, I get to multiply that by two.”

  “You’ve been living again. Didn’t it feel good? Didn’t you love working, painting, engaging your hands? Jesus, Bastian, for the last year, you’ve been semi-human. Don’t you know that’s what Sylvie would have wanted for you? Sera absolutely wanted you to be happy.”

  “I wasn’t enough for either one of them. Don’t you get it?”

  “No, I’m sorry. I don’t get it. Sylvie loved you until the moment she took her last breath. You’re a selfish bastard for not recognizing many people never experience that kind of love, myself included. There was nothing, nothing, you could have done differently to fight cancer. That wasn’t your failure, and you were everything to her.”

  He paused, but I didn’t engage. He’d only addressed half of the puzzle, and I knew
part two was coming, I just had to wait for the wave to roll in. The tide shifted quickly.

  “I don’t know the ins and outs with Sera. I know she had issues. I had seen it along the way, but B, if she wouldn’t let you in, you couldn’t stop it. Hell, you couldn’t have stopped it unless she wanted you to, and obviously, she didn’t. You can’t take that on as your failure. You were a good friend, always around, there whenever she wanted company. Other than hiring a bodyguard, or following her around, what else could you have done?”

  “I did.” I had no pride left.

  “You did, what?”

  I grabbed the back of my neck with insecurity. “I followed her in an attempt to find out who was hurting her. I stalked her, Nate. It was my feeble endeavor.”

  He shook his head, not hearing what I’d said. “This wasn’t your fault, Bastian. No matter what you say to accept the blame, her committing suicide was not a reflection on you or your friendship.”

  “It was so cold in that water, Nate. Even if she had made a mistake and wanted to get out, I don’t think she could have.”

  “Maybe not, but we both know, you can’t rewrite history, and you can’t write destiny. Her fate was sealed long before she ever met you. You’re not the author of her story, nor the editor. You were simply a reader. She chose to end the book with no epilogue or cliffhanger. You have to accept that.”

  “I don’t know that I can.”

  Nate didn’t say anything else. He dragged me into the living room and ate in silence. I listened to the noises the house made. I wished for another day. If I could go back three days and have that one day over again, I would do so many things differently.

  “Stop, Bastian.” Nate didn’t bother swallowing before he chastised me.

  The pain was written all over my face, even I could see it when I looked in a mirror. “Do you want a drink? I think I have some tequila. Maybe some vodka.”

  “Nah, I’m good. I have to drive home. You need to go easy on that shit.”

 

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