by Lipa Nandes
I closed my eyes full and opened them again, but my reality didn't change, the truth of the facts didn't either, and the pain, the anguish, the anger, the resentment, and the panic hit me again.
I feel completely numb and disoriented with the punch that life has given me. I need to forget all this, I need to get it all out of my head, I need to fade away and never wake up again.
I left the room and went looking for something here that could help me, to allow me to forget and let go of all that I have inside me.
I went upstairs and entered the living room. Behind the dining table, there was a small island, and in the cabinets below, I know Kyle's parents have a minibar.
Maybe that's where I'll find the answer to my problems.
But when I open the minibar; "Oh shit Mr. Adams, do you really have a sixty-two bottle of Dalmore here?"
What a waste Mr. Adams, pity you don't enjoy it.
I open the bottle, and immediately, my nostrils are invaded by the overpowering smell of this whiskey.
I didn't know that Mr. Adams was a collector or a connoisseur of whiskey, I always thought he was a man more connected to boats.
I take a small sip directly from the bottle and fuck, this whiskey is strong as hell.
My tongue begins to numb as I drink and drink more and more. But this is what I need this is what I want; I need something so strong that it can get me out of here, allow me to get me out of my own body and fade away.
I get up off the floor, and my head, my body and all of me starts to stagger, and I lose my balance, I held onto the end of the island balcony and crawled to the U-shaped sofa of the living room.
I sit down and hold the bottle next to me and start thinking about what my mother did to me.
That bitch made me attend to Mr. Lewis's creative writing classes on purpose to condition my future as a writer. But then she was able to go further and further with all of that. Everyone went too far.
Mr. Lewis introduced me to Patrick; after all, they all know each other.
Oh, my mother is an outstanding actress because of the moment she discovered what was happening between Patrick and me.
She was completely nuts with the idea of me being closer and closer to him. And then she even pretended that she was worried about me and that he was not a good influence for me. But it so happens that she knew very well what she was doing.
That's why Patrick always insisted that I should try drinking alcohol and drugs and everything else because he knew I was not used to that sort of thing and yet he still insisted.
And dumb as I was, I let myself go.
Now it makes sense when Mr. Lewis told me about the photographs one the phone call. Patrick did all this on purpose, and when I erased, he took these moments to take pictures of me.
But why?
Why did my mother do this to me? What is the purpose behind so much humiliation, so much work, and effort?
She always told me that what I wrote was not good enough, that it was no good. So why she had to destroy me in this way?
Why?
What do Mr. Lewis and Patrick get out of this? Did they both do this to more girls?
The questions are so many, and the answers are so few that I feel my head growing more burdensome, the tears come back again, and my desperation to end my own life...
Shit! Fuck all this, fuck everybody.
No one likes me, no one really cares about me.
I am a waste of life, of space, of living matter, it's the best if I accept this, I can take and believe that all this is true, but that does not mean that I have to live with it.
How much more do I have to drink to completely erase? Is that even possible?
Dying for drinking too much alcohol?
Anyway, I don't know that, I'll continue to drink until everything around me begins to fade, until the air starts to fail, until my heart stops beating eventually.
The more I drink, the more my body temperature rises, dying from dehydration?
It's possible.
Great, I found my answer.
Still, I think an excellent way to leave this world is to go outside, gaze at the moon one last time, and join it in the darkness of the immense sky above me. I drag myself to the main deck, my whole body is disoriented, all my footsteps are dizzy, and now more than any other time, it is harder to keep me on foot.
When the cold night air meets my skin, I look out into the immense dark sky where the moon already radiates her bright light.
"Hello, old friend, how are you?" I ask her raising the bottle of whiskey.
I ended up sitting on the floor, leaning against one of the three lounges on the main deck.
"I'll join you. Give me just a few more minutes," I babbled, dragging all my words away, looking toward the full moon nailed to the sky.
I no longer felt my tongue, my cheeks, or my throat. A little more and I stop feeling the rest of my body and death it will be much more peaceful, quieter, and less painful. I don't need to suffer anymore; I don't need more pain. At least this is finally the moment when I find absolute peace.
I pick up the bottle, but this one goes by the lack of my strength, the liquid comes out of the bottle and ends up soaking my pants, I try to get up, I try to gain balance, but it's complicated. I eventually get down on my knees on the floor, and with my hands on the deck, I try to force myself to get up. But the imbalance is higher than me making me stagger even more. I cannot stop my steps, my legs try hard to be still, and my head tries to fall back, allowing me to recover some balance, but it is impossible. I hit the edge of the yacht, and without being able to hold anywhere, I fell into the water.
My body tries to fight to quickly return the surface to my lungs, and my brain breathes again.
But I don't want to. Not this time!
I never want to return to the surface, I don't want to return to suffering and to the pain.
The silence of the seabed is quite inviting, the way to my heaven too.
Here I go, my old friend, to join you. In your light, in your peace and in your stillness up there.
I close my eyes and try to remember something happy before I stop thinking before I stop feeling before I never wake up again.
Kyle's face is the only happy thing I can remember, it may be that now he finally has a better life without me, without the heavy baggage I bring.
Thankfully, at least I gave him one last good moment with me, knowing that I will always live in his memory, like that, so happy, dying now doesn't seem so bad. My senses start to get lost; my mind starts to stop working, and I finally feel at peace.
In my last moments, I say goodbye to Kyle in silence, hoping he will somehow understand why I had to break up with me in this way.
This wasn't my initial plan, but it's better this way.
My demons are too big and powerful, and I cannot deal with them anymore, I don't want to deal with any of this anymore.
This is not me giving up; this is me giving Kyle another chance to start over.
I'm so sorry Kyle, please forgive me, you are without a doubt the best memories I will take with me to the other side, whatever it is that waits for me, you will always be with me.
I love you.
chapter thirty-three
kyle
On the way to Big Nick's Pizza, I grabbed my phone and called Miles, (I'm glad to save his number on my phone).
As absurd as this idea seems to me, right now, he is the only one who can help me deal with Neva, only he can help me to be what she needs.
After three attempts to talk to him, finally on the other end of the line; "Who is it?" He asked rudely.
"It's me, Kyle." The silence fell for a few seconds; "Oh, is everything okay with Neva? What happened?" This time his voice was carrying with concern.
"Um, nothing, nothing happened" - I swallowed, I don't know why I was so nervous talking to him because there was nothing that could go wrong - "Listen, man, can you meet me at Big Nick's? I need your help." Once again,
between us, there was a strange silence. I guess he wasn't expecting to hear this from me, and I never thought that one day I would need his help.
"Okay,"
"Thanks, man."
"Yeah, no problem." He answered me hurriedly and hung up the phone.
Now that everything's coming together, it's time to think about what I'm going to take from Nick's because I don't know what Neva is going to want to eat.
We used to come here, at Big Nick's, always after a day spent at sea on the yacht. How happy we were in those days. We spent all day alone, why didn't I tell her how I felt about her at that time?
Maybe everything that happened afterward never exists.
I park the car right in front of Nick's front door, get in, and ask the servant behind the counter for a pepperoni pizza with extra sauce. The only thing I will always be sure of is, as long as it takes sauce, she will ever want it with extra sauce. I believe she's a reincarnation of an Italian girl because Neva loves pizza, and pasta, and a lot of sauce and cheese. I've never met anyone like her.
As I waited for the pizza to be ready, I saw through the glass door, Miles taking off his helmet and getting out of his bike, he opened the door and came toward me.
"What's up, man?" He asked me immediately. All my brain cells came together to give him an answer. I don't even know why I'm making this weird for no reason.
"Um, you said you already see Neva..." I couldn't go on, I can't even imagine that she could do anything terrible to herself. I dropped my head in defeat.
"Hey! She— Miles put his hand on my shoulder; “She just needs someone who is always by her side, whatever happens." He stressed, but later; "Where did you take her after you left my house?" He asked me.
"To my yacht," I told him as I raise my head again.
"And do you know if you have alcohol there?"
Fuck! Fuck! I was supposed to have seen that after calling Miles from her cell phone, but then she showed up, and I couldn't do anything about it anymore.
Shit...
"Yes, I do," I answered him, clearing my throat. How did I forget about that?
"And you got them out of there, right?"
I couldn't answer that question, I had no answer, I mean I had an answer, but it wasn't what he wanted to hear. In horror and panic on my face and unable to answer him, he realized that I had probably done shit.
"Are you crazy? Didn't I tell you to get them out of there as soon as I told you what you had to do?" He yells at me, his face turns red in seconds. Miles was furious with me, but no more than I was angry with myself. I just hope nothing happened to her while I came here, that she didn't find any of those bottles. "Please tell me you didn't leave her there alone to come here."
His voice was harsh, rude, and desperate, his gaze was furious, and it seemed that at any moment he could explode and I would be his collision point.
Clenched teeth, tightly clenched fists; "Kyle, we better go now. Forget what you came here for, even forget that you already have a life or somewhere else to go."
I listened to everything he said, and in that same second, we both ran out of the pizzeria.
Hurriedly we got into my car and headed for the marina.
I was driving in Formula One pilot mode. I couldn't stand it if I knew something had happened to her while I...
Shit, Kyle, shit. How can you be that stupid sometimes? I thought to myself.
As soon as we reached the marina, we both ran out of the car and go to the yacht.
On the small white wooden bridge that connects the parking lot to the yachts, a middle-aged gentleman was peering into the water. Miles was way ahead from me, he looked at the poor man and without even asking him anything; "It seemed to hear something fall into the water."
"Clark," Miles screams over and over and over again continuing to run to find my yacht.
I couldn't move, I was paralyzed.
The fear came over me, the fear that she... Then the regret hit me, the guilt that whatever happened to her, the fault will always be mine. Just mine!
One more time, I fail to her. I'm such an idiot.
As my legs managed to move closer to the yacht, I heard Miles diving into the dark sea.
I hurried my steps without realizing what was happening. He warned me, he warned me that he had seen Neva at similar times, and I was too naive to believe he couldn't be telling the truth.
As soon as I entered the main deck; "Kyle!" Miles screamed for me.
I approached the other end of the yacht, looked down, and I saw him with Clark on one of his arms. Her eyes were shut, and it seems like she isn't breath anymore.
Oh my God, what am I going to do??
I picked up the stairs, unrolled them and tossed them into the water, allowing Miles to start climbing.
When he was halfway through, I grabbed Neva from Miles's arm, and I pulled her into the yacht.
I laid her on the floor, and although she was weak, it was still possible to feel her pulse.
Thank god!
I don't believe this is really happening.
Miles jumped to the stairs and knelt next to her.
Then he began the resuscitation maneuvers; "Come on, Clark, stay with me;" He repeated over and over and over between his mouth-to-mouth breath and the pressure on her chest.
I was completely out of my mind.
Suddenly she started coughing, pouring the excess water out, Miles turned her body to make it easier for her to get it out all the water.
Miles and I exchanged a look, and we both had the same feeling in the eyes and in mind; relief.
"Clark?" A voice asked.
We both looked in the same direction, and neither of us even imagined seeing Patrick standing a few feet away from us.
His voice was dull, fearful, worried, but that doesn't erase what he might have done to Yellow, to my Yellow.
My body was filled with anger as were my fists. And when I was going to get up — "Hey, take her downstairs and give her a hot water bath. I'll deal with him!" Miles told me, pulling me by the arm.
Once again, I answered to his request. I picked her up and carried her away from that bastard.
On the way to the bathroom, I could see Neva trying to open her eyes.
"Hold on just a few more seconds, you'll be just fine." I tried to reassure her as I felt her body quiver compulsively.
I opened the bathroom door with my foot, took her to the shower, and began to take off her cold clothes. Still hindered, Neva's voice is small and weak;
"Sorry I'm so sorry... I don't... I just..."
"Shh, you'll be fine," I said, hugging her and running my hand over her cold, wet hair.
In a great effort, I stretched my arm, never letting her go, turning on the hot water.
As soon as the water fell over us, I took off her the rest of the soaked clothes and continued to hug her, allowing her body to warm and stabilize.
I washed her hair and her body, wrapped a towel over her, and then carried her back to my room.
I sat her on the edge of the bed, opened the closet, and pulled out a pair of tracksuit pants and a long-sleeved nightgown.
"Here, put this on and lie in bed. I'll make you some hot chocolate and some cookies. Then you go to sleep, and tomorrow if you want, we can talk about what happened." I told her kneeling in front of her.
On the other hand, she didn't give me any answers, she just kept her head down, dressed in the dry clothes I'd given her silently and with tears on her cheeks.
I left the room to give her some space and went up to the kitchen.
I found Miles sitting on the couch, alone.
I don't know how he deals with Patrick but, I'm glad to see that he is not near her.
"What do you do to Patrick?" I ask him.
"Trust me, deal with Patrick now it's more easier."
"How so?" I ask.
"Because now he has nothing against Clark nor against me. So this time, I punched him hard and told him to get the fuck off." He said
to me with a weaker voice.
"Oh! Thank you for that. But now were you going to live?"
"I'm thinking to go back to Chicago and live with my mom and with my sister."
"Yeah, probably it's the best for you."
The silent settles between us, but, I have one last question for him.
I have to ask him what he feels for her because, despite the horror I suffered today, I can't understand why he is so attached to Neva, I don't understand their connection.
"May I ask you a question?" Miles raised his head with a shrug; "Do you like Neva, like…"
"I already knew that sooner or later someone would ask me that," he said interrupting me; "No man, I don't like her in the same way you and Patrick do."
Curious, if he doesn't like her the same way I do, then why did he jump into the water without thinking twice?
It should have been me, not him, though I was forever grateful to him for saving her.
He sighed, and as if it was hard for him to talk about that, he told me; "Clark helped me when no one else did, you know. She came into my life the day everyone turned their backs on me, she was the only one who cared, she was the one who always stayed by my side, no matter how difficult it was at that time. The day I met her, my mother was in intensive care, she needed to have heart surgery, and I had no money to pay, my sister living in Chicago couldn't afford it either. We have no health insurance, and I knew that without the operation, it would be complicated for my mother to survive. It was then that on a second day I was with Clark, I don't know why I told her what was going on with me, but I was so desperate... And in the blink of an eye, she paid my mom operation. I'm not sure what her parents' job is, but when she showed up at a hospital with her father saying they would pay the bill… I was so relieved that day! I will never know how I will thank her, I will never know how I will pay her for this, and I still don't know why she wants to help but, whenever she needs me, I will be here to her in the same way she was there for me."
That was undoubtedly the answer I would never think to hear. I know her generous heart well enough to know that what she did for Miles's mother makes perfect sense, knowing that her grandfather died of a heart attack. I believe she did it to honor Mr. Joseph's memory.